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.'"
Sage: "Nate, can we talk? Don't worry, I'm not pregnant."
Nate: "I know that, first of all, because what I produce is mainly confined to glitter and unicorn wishes. It will not get a girl pregnant unless she is half-butterfly, or Taylor Swift. But more importantly, don't talk to boys like that. Don't talk to anybody like that."
Bart: "Nate, I have some menacing creepiness to get all up on you."
Nate: "Sage, let's go upstairs and have that chat. In the computer room, where the computer is. The computer that came with Windows 8 (R), which uses Live Tiles (TM) to make sure the information you need most is always available. The computer with access to Bart's Evernote account where he writes down all of his countless murders."
Bart: "Uh, it's OneNote, whippersnapper."
Steven: "I'm glad at least one other of Serena's exes are here!"
Dan: "I am not her ex. I am her now."
Steven: "I'm gonna have her nekkid by the end of this song, son."
Dan, awesome: "You don't know anything about Serena. Or, sorry, are you still under the impression that her name is Sabrina?"
Steven, also awesome: "I know that she needs someone to take care of her, and I know you can't. Boom!"
Blair gloats, Dan and Steven bitch at each other wonderfully, and Lonelyboy is minutes from the door. But Chuck, Chuck is somewhat less than that. B swoops.
Chuck: "So you think tricking me into having Thanksgiving dinner with my father is going to end in us getting married?"
Blair: "Whoa, it makes total sense that you would read this situation that way. But no. I have a plan to ruin Bart, or at least get Lily back. Uncle Jack is getting Bart's passwords, and Nate is upstairs inputting them. Boom."
Chuck: "But Mommy love Daddy more than poor Charlie Trout!"
Blair: "Not if somebody actually got hurt. She's strictly a white-collar, fake-affidavit, fight over the inheritance type, that one. She'll put apple-cheeked young teachers in jail for years, plant evidence and call the cops on her own daughter to reinforce the importance of curfew, have a baby and never tell the dad even after they're married. But murder?"