Charlie's drunk himself into bed, fully clothed and on top of the covers, when Blair comes looking for him -- he's missed their lunch date and is clearly in the quickest downward spiral ever accomplished on this show -- and he looks at her angrily through his fingers and tells her about a million times to fuck off, and every single thing she says cuts way too close to his issues ("I know how hard it was for you to let your guard down," she says tearfully, "To let me in") so Charlie rolls his eyes all around and then -- haunted by Bart through a heavily-glazed French door -- drunkenly tells her to GTFO. She finally gets that he's going to a very dark place, and leaves to figure out another scheme, and Bart's like, "Well done."
The Departed is about a gangster that pretends to be a cop and a cop that pretends to be a gangster, both learning how to be a man from the same mobster father figure, and it gets so messed up with them trying to figure out the other one's identity that they pretty much lose sight of their own entirely. It's very good. And I think right now to be Charlie Trout is to be doing both at the same time: Watching himself crack the case of himself while trying desperately to cover up the crime of being himself, and wanting to put a hit out on anybody that starts to clue in, and trying to figure out which parts of his father are a villain and which parts are safe to take with him. In which case, he is lucky to have the van der Woodsens on his side, but about ten times luckier to have Blair Waldorf watching his back.
Eric tries to explain to Baylor and Taylor how Jenny's reign as Queen is a grotesque aristocracy mockery and how Blair was never this drunk with power, but just as the worm is turning Jenny appears with two more Roadies ear-marked with Blue and Purple ribbon for her two Handmaidens, explaining that her banishment of Saylor was punishment for ruining the Christmas surprise. "OMGBGE!" they scream -- "Ach Mein Gott Ist Tot Jenseits von Gut und Böse Vorspiel einer Philosophie der Zukunft!" -- and there are many hugs, and the girls run away but not too far so that Eric can have a whispered aside about how three Roadies is the same amount of cash as a SmartCar, which not even Lily would shell out for purses. Jenny rolls her eyes and runs off with her Handmaidens to buy quote "matching lipstick." Matching what, pray tell? The black patent-leather bags? Each other's lipstick? Their monochromatic jeweltones?