Lola Rhodes and Olivia Burke are starring in a movie called Ivy League, billed as "The Twisted Tale Of The Female Con Artist Who Took Manhattan For Millions." Sometimes it's the little things.
If only Ivy Dickens could enjoy this final non-victory, but sadly she took her own life after a breakdown in negotiations between the Swamp People and the Crocodile People dissolved her unhappy, treaty-driven marriage to the King of the Crocodile People. She is survived by a single, croak-throated daughter, the half-crocodile heiress to two thrones, Princess Charlie Peepers. And who is the wormtongued consiglieri lurking just behind her throne, awaiting her majority, tending to her regency? Why, it's Carol Rhodes in disguise. She worships a crocodile god now. His gleaming teeth, His false tears.
Uncle Jack: "Serena looks so lovely in that dress, my sweet. Does she not?"
Georgina: "I used to roofie her, like, all the time. It seems so long ago."
Uncle Jack: "Is that right? I used to rape her mother at the opera."
Of Pilot Inspektor and Vanessa Abrams, of the Thousand Mothers of Chuck Bass and the Thousand Ex-Husbands of Lily Rhodes, we may never hear tell. The impotent Lord Marcus and Duchess Catherine sent flowers that wilted before they arrived. Stephen and Sage Spence are still in jail, for crimes whose records remain sealed. Poppy and Gabriel went down in just a hail of bullets, it was really something.
Juliet Sharp and Carter Baizen, wherever you are: Thank you. You are here, as you've always been, in spirit.
Serena dons her golden wedding armor, a sartorially confused Valkyrie to the end. Dan's hair has basically worked its shit out; he wears a tuxedo whose tailoring can best be described as "futuristic." Everything is right with the world. They are getting married, at an appropriate age. Their children will be masters of the universe, thanks to Rhodes money; they will be healthy in body and mind, raised by parents whose self-interest never impeded their growth. The Loneliest Boy, and the Ittest Girl.
"You may be rid of Dan Humphrey," Gossip Girl intones, "But you'll never be rid of me. There will always be someone on the outside, wanting to get in." A boy with a man-purse, his face occluded, takes in the polymorphous perversity of a boy with a scarf, the kind-eyed oblivion of his first mate; walks past the hateful eyes of a girl with a headband and straight through the cloud of a blonde girl's It Factor. He wants them, and he hates them; he wants to be one of them but defines himself in opposition to them. He thinks he is poor, but has no idea what poverty actually is. He knows only hate. His is the snow-globe, and they will be his dominion. So it goes.