Blair, affectingly enough: "Oh my God, no. No, it can't be..."

Who is Rochester's Wife? Who is up there? Elizabeth Fischer wouldn't scare her like this. Eric and Jenny are never coming back. And she's also super-sad, too. It's neither of Chuck's parents-of-the-moment, because they're in the other two rooms. So unless it's somebody unexpected having some scary sex, which it is not, it's going to be ... Bart, right? God damn it. Just goddammit. Ed Westwick is a good actor! (Maybe technically a great one, if you consider how many constraints playing Chuck Bass actually entails.) Bart's death was one of his greatest things. So rather than giving Ed Westwick something to work with, let's by all means start retroactively taking previous things away. That makes sense, right?

BASSES

Jack: "Chuck, I'd love to chat, but..."
Chuck: "I want answers! Blood donor! Fake mommy number one! Fake mommy number two! Answers!"
Jack: "I really do have to go, but it's been fun watching you act melodramatic as usual."
Chuck: "This is your tattoo in this picture of Elizabeth Fischer having a baby!"
Jack: "That picture is twenty years old, who cares?"
Chuck: "You fucked my mother! Resulting in me!"
Jack: "I fucked a lot of Elizabeths. I fucked a lot of everybody. It's my thing."
Chuck: "Fine. Just tell me whether you're my father. It matters, I guess."

The bouncers somehow get Chuck out of there just as Blair's bouncers are somehow letting her run rampant around the place.

Blair: "What just happened? Did you tell him? What you're really hiding here."
Jack: "Fine, I'll tell you the secrets. Just to create more drama between you and Chuck, I will tell you what I couldn't tell him."

INDIANA

Indiana: "Nate, you and your sidekick are becoming an ass-ache of unbel..."
Nate: "-- No! I may not have been able to nab you on child porn, and we might have a kick-ass professional relationship, and one of the more believable friendships on the show, but this time I am taking you down! You are a Madam, Madame!"
Indiana: "And so what, you're going to take the Spectator away from me? You can't even prove I own this roving millionaire sex club. Maybe I'm just here, perving out. Just like you are. Do you honestly think I'll suffer more than you in this narrative? Weird British cougar versus rich hot white guy, who's grosser for coming here?"
Nate: "I am ... just so bad at blackmailing you! It is getting embarrassing! But I'll tell the cops about you!"
Diana: "The cops that are not coming? The fake police raid is what you're talking about? Which I clearly perpetrated?"
Nate: "Oh, right. Right, I knew that."
Diana: "I mean it was like five minutes ag..."
Nate: "-- All right! You've made your point."