Everybody up in this piece, effing up the plans. What a shitshow this will be.
Dan: "Wait. So it's Nate, the Basses, the Spences and Chair? What a shitshow this will be. The Spences don't even go here!"
Bart: "Steven Spence. The man who fucked my wife."
Dan: "And my girlfriend."
Steven: "Yeah, two real exclusive clubs there."
Serena: "Dan, why are you being a huge cunt about this? I didn't shut down the friggin' airport."
Dan: "And yet I am going to yell and call you a slut for it anyway. Or let me guess, did you also invite Cutie the Chef, and Professor Sam Page, and Carter Baizen, and Damian Dalgaard, and Justin-Bobby? That actor that smelled like pee, perhaps? That development guy whose job you stole? Or just Tripp? I would be cool with Tripp, actually, if we can't have Carter."
Serena: "I don't know who any of those people are."
Dan bitches for literally one hundred years. It is now 2112 and we are all futuristic vampires that sleep hanging upside down in what are colloquially called "meat lockers." I am dating Stephen Dorff, our vampire leader. We smoke electronic cigarettes after we do it future-vampire style, which also takes place: upside down. People are still assholes about Olivia Munn and they still think this is vaguely feminism somehow. Brittany Snow was the first person uploaded onto the internet. Food is just these pills.
Serena: "On the upside, Blair and Chuck are here. So now we're even. Go fuck yourself, Feelings Guy."
Blair: "Before you ask, yes. Chuck is drunk as fuck. But you know who looks great? Steven Spence."
Serena: "Yeah, whatever. Dan's being a real tool. Hey, did you notice the Basses are here?"
Blair: "I'd better send a sneaky text to Nate about that."
Lily: "Oh, Charles. It is so hard to pretend I'm not overjoyed to see you."
Chuck: "What are you even doing here?"
Lily: "I fucking live here? How about we say bygones?"
Chuck: "Bart is going to kill us. Both. How can you not see that?"
Lily: "Well, happy Thanksgiving. You are how drunk I'm going to be in a minute."
Bart: "Don't talk to him."
Lily: "It's Thanksgiving."
Bart: "Among my people, it's less a tradition of gratitude and family, and more about celebrating the time we put everybody on an entire continent in concentration camps, just because we felt like it. And by 'we,' I mean 'shitty old white guys.'"