Serena nods to herself. Not worth it. Never worth it. Especially now, now that she knows she was never a killer after all: This time, it'll be okay. This time she can burn. "You're right. You and Amanda should probably go." The challenge in her eyes is bright and hard. "Are you ... ordering me to leave?" That fake smile returns, flirts along her lips: "Consider it a suggestion. Why should I go, Dan? These are my friends here, and it's not exactly your kind of place." She pushes past him; she takes up more space than ever before. Dan asks the bartender for the check, completely unaware of what he just did or how easy it would have been to go the other way, and Chuck appears -- suspiciously conveniently, for like the tenth time this week -- and Dan tells him to start wearing a bell. "Kinky. I'll think about it. I hope you're not leaving. You're about to see the real Serena!" She drinks at the other side of the bar, getting blearier and sexier, chatting with the bartender. "I've seen enough," Dan says, completely oblivious, and tries to leave. Chuck smiles, in his purple suit. "...Not by half."
Nate enters the Hudson apartment at Blair's invitation, and asks what was so important. "Well," she smiles a bit, "I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that your girlfriend Catherine is a lying, manipulating whore, sleeping with her stepson. I know. It's hard to picture. I have photos if you'd like to take a look." She's sincere for a moment: "I'm sorry. ...But the good news is that I convinced them both to leave town. And that's not even the best part! Catherine and I made a deal. I promised to keep my mouth shut, and she agreed to pay off the Captain's restitution. Congratulations, Archibald. Welcome back to your old life!" He stammers, and her phone rings. "Wait. Hold that non-thought." She tells Catherine to shove it, but the music -- and Blair's tune -- switch up like a rock dropped in the ocean. "What do you mean? Vanessa talked to the Duke? No, I told her to stay out of this..." She hangs up, sad again. Deeply sad, actually. "Okay. Maybe I only have bad news."
Chuck heads over to egg Penelope and Isabel on, to make the night complete: "Serena's not thinking straight, she's making this about Dan. It's the new girl that defied you." He pours some kind of magic depilatory that works faster than Rachel True's witch powers in The Craft into an empty glass, and reminds Penelope of a Nairtini she served the Danish exchange student in ninth grade. (Ours was Finnish. If only I'd had access to a Nairtini or the dark eldritch forces of Manon, she'd be bald and I'd be happily gay-married and probably overseas adopting my second baby right now.) Everybody smarms unendingly.