"Daniel, my son, you have near perfect grades, excellent SATs, more talent than money could ever buy... If that's not enough, then there's something wrong with Yale, not you." And thus, puts a callused strumming finger on the very pulse of all that is wrong with Rufus's idiotic style of parenting. No wonder Daniel thinks he's acceptable in any way. Necktie adjusted, Daniel heads out woefully unprepared into the world: "It's just me, the best English department in America, and a hundred other highly competitive, extremely nervous wannabe Yalies."
And the uncompetitive, extremely un-nervous, extremely un-wannabe shoo-ins, of course. "Get excited, Archibald. We are three hours away from horny Women's Studies majors wanting to work out all their anger towards men in their bunk beds." Nate shakes his head at Chuck, wearing a totally cute argyle hoodie cardigan: "My heart's still set on USC. I just wish my mom wouldn't push Yale so hard. I think she's only pushing it because the Vanderbilt side of her family practically owns it." I guess with the Captain in Madeuplandia, Dartmouth's off the table. Charles is, by the way, wearing a perfect pink shirt and an ascot: "Think of it this way, Yale is your safety school." I want a t-shirt that says Yale Is My Safety School.
Nate continues to whine about the one thing he has to whine about, which is his family, but Chuck doesn't care one whit. "We blow off the formal visit crap and focus on what really matters -- creating your own Freshman Fifteen." Can you imagine being so very young that college freshman are worth fucking? Chuck explains, to Nate's intense delight, that he's only visiting Yale for his project of evaluating colleges based on their secret societies. "Yale has the crème de la crème: Skull & Bones. My goal is to get inside their inner sanctum." Nate asks how he plans on doing that. "By showing up," says Charles. Same as with you, duh.
The St. Jude's chancellor or whatever gives a short speech at the senior assembly about how their visits this weekend -- to Harvard, Yale and Brown -- are vastly important, as they are acting as the ambassadors of not only Constance Billard and St. Jude's, but their own families. Serena looks over at Blair, and her intensely huge smile falls flat. "We urge you to present yourselves in the best possible light," he continues, causing Dan, who couldn't do that if he tried, to hyperventilate. "I wonder what lucky school will be the subject of the next nursery rhyme penned by Brooklyn's lamest fiction writer?" asks Chuck, and Dan says the Yale Dean of Admissions will probably appreciate his ability to write about "damaged characters" like the pathetically disguised Charlie Trout. So I guess that whole look of consideration and guilt from Dan last week went down the shitter. If he was just going to fuck Chuck over in the end, why throw the huge hissy with Noah Shapiro? Leprechauns have feelings too. "Looks like we'll be spending the weekend together. How nice. Say hello to the 'characters' on public transportation for me," Chuck snots, while Nate looks vacantly into space.