Chuck narrows his eyes, somewhat fascinated by this new take on the usual Dan Humphrey stuttering. And of all the possible ways of saying these three words, of all the possible emphases and intonations and implications and subtleties, the naked interest and the intrigued humor, the attempts to emasculate and consideration of the possibility that Dan is saying something fascinating for the first time in his life, we are treated to the finest: "Are you gay?"
Dan's mouth smacks open, and he stares at Chuck's unmoving interrogation for a moment that seems to stretch itself out into infinity before shaking himself out of it. "...Now that would be out of my comfort zone, but no. Uh, I just need to get out of Brooklyn for one night. I'd like to experience the world of Chuck Bass." Alternately, an option in this circumstance would be to say, "Maybe?" And then one can see where that leads. I certainly do not intend to advise one way or another, but merely to refer the reader to the facts: It is Chuck Bass. It is an absurdly flattering neckerchief. And it is always good to remember that one has options. "You're lucky I'm bored," Chuck says, and breezes past Dan to the elevator: "Get in before I change my mind." And, in his way, I think Chuck might be thinking of taking revenge for the sister he loves so much, for that smile on his face as the elevator door closes means either the honorable pursuit of justice, or Daniel Humphrey is about to experience a new thing called anal rape.
Blair comes shooting through Chez Waldorf as though in pursuit of the hounds of hell, firing off hilarious statements and bons mots with such rapidity footnotes may well be called for. "Don't ever go to high school, Dorota! [?] The girls are spoiled, stupid and ungrateful! One snapshot with a socialite and it's all Serena! Serena! Serena! Don't they know that without me, they'd never see the inside of a fashion tent? They'd be stuck behind the barricades with PETA! In fact, I will leave them outside with PETA. Maybe that'll teach them some manners!" While it's possible that "Don't ever go to high school, Dorota" is the finest line of dialogue ever uttered in any medium, it is not for me to assign that honor, as I regard myself more as observer than judge. "Something's different," Blair hisses, looking at her rearranged seating chart. "Who put Serena and that Poppy person in the front row? And all these socialites?" (N.B. Christina Cuomo is on there like sixteen times; presumably this is because of Jenny Humphrey's widely acknowledged brain damage.) "Someone changed this chart! The chart my mother asked me to do! Who changed it?" Dorota drops the proverbial dime on Jenny Humphrey so fast that one might require treatment for whiplash, and Blair settles into a deep and inviting throne of rage and flames. "Guess she didn't learn her lesson last year. Looks like someone needs a refresher course." Gossip Girl notes that it would not be Fashion Week without its attendant fashion victims, and that Little J's newest design trend is the bulls-eye on her own back. A delirious mixture of metaphor, theme and motif, Gossip Girl. I salute your august and anonymous self.