Laurel spits on the dress: What is it for, besides sitting around being stupid? And by metonymy, you yourself? Jenny -- not timidly, either because she's being cool or because of her unfortunate brain damage -- says that in fact, the dress is not for spitting but for the White Party. "For the Vitamin Water Party?" Laurel corrects her -- which is awesome, because if you're doing product placement you should make a hilarious joke about product placement, and saying "Vitamin Water" scornfully a thousand times in one episode is subtle indeed -- and touches the hideous thing. "Who invited you? ...Oh, lace? Ugh! It's not even white, it's bone." She boxes Little J's ears so harshly that she can barely hear the next bit, for all the ringing: "It's way too big for you. Don't you know how to fit? It's huge."
Jenny confirms that yes, it's the brain damage talking in this scene, helpfully saying that it's not for her, it's for the gigantically huge fatness of Laurel: "I'm not going to the party, so..." Laurel laughs, discreetly hiding a nine-inch Wusthof behind her apparently enormous ass: "So you thought I might wear some Holly Hobby frock made by an intern so that when I get photographed, your work ends up in W?" Jenny does the ankle-dip I've been waiting all fucking summer for, and Laurel nods: "If I'm gonna wear a custom anything, it's gonna matter." She raises the blade above her head with a demonic glint in her eye, but just before she strikes the killing blow, that familiar-looking chick comes back with something for her to sign. Laurel forgets Jenny exists, after telling her to take a giant box of buttons home with her and do something degrading with them. "Oh, and put that away. Eggshell gives me a migraine." The familiar girl silently mouths, "I'm sorry!" ... but sadly, not silently enough. Laurel's head swivels all the way around shooting lasers and before you know it, where the girl was standing there is only dust, in a sad pair of hundred-dollar Kors pumps.
In DUMBO, Jenny dumps the buttons or whatever out on the table and tells Dan that she is no longer eating, but would enjoy a nice cold popsicle; their mother is at South Pacific with Alexander Bancroft. Dan asks about the buttons, and she asks if he's finished his story yet: "I'm hoping by reading it that maybe I can figure out why you and Serena broke up anyway," too true. Except by not writing it, he's even more eloquently explaining why they broke up, which is that he is a shithead who fucks things up due to his enormous self-obsession. "Yeah," Dan sighs dramatically. "Yeah, me, too." The title of the story, which is all he's written, is "5.19.08," which in addition to being precisely as pretentious as Dan must be, but also clever of the show in a whole other way. Rather than fetching some coffee and a wee trampoline to get the fuck over himself, and actually applying some goddamn elbow grease to the situation, Dan decides that he is simply too delicate a flower to write a single word, and lumbers out of the house to go suck McInerney off instead.