And so very many loving props to Blair, the immune system/security dog/bodyguard of the entire Upper East Side, for this characteristically sudden and sharp acceptance of Dan as one of the many innocents she has to shepherd and protect. You know she didn't think about it even a second -- doing so would shrivel her like the Witch of the East's Jenny-striped stockings -- but just leapt intuitively all the way to:
"Love you, Serena, but this isn't okay. I've already mentioned it once and you continue to disobey me, so I've stepped up to oblique references. Next alert level is Yellow, and just trust me when I say you don't want to get there. Now get with the program and accept the fact that Dan is your Future, because I really need him off the fucking market."
I don't think I've ever felt closer to Blair Waldorf, in four years. That is a little too close, if I'm being honest, for comfort. Anyway, Chuck calls to tell S about his meeting with Lily and the guitars and explicitly says, "Lily is trying to do the right thing by the company, and by your inmate, too. She said she'll prove it in 24 hours." All true. And of course S is like, "Fuck that. Fuck her 'words' and fuck her 'intentions' and fuck your 'high road' and 'confirming this story.' Like this was ever about anything other than taking her ass down, like Ben matters, or ever mattered. Idiot. But yeah, I'll give you a 'day.' I don't even know what that word means anyway, so you just let me know when it's tomorrow, and we will bring it on."
I guess because she misses her daughter, Lily has taken to wearing those retarded Tyler Ellis-looking pointy-shoulder dresses from the Age of Tripp. Rufus asks why "Russell Thorpe" sounds familiar -- and when he figures it out, that is going to be just a doozy -- and Lily ignores him of course and reminds us about how Bart and Russell came up together in real estate and now "comes into town once a year and throws a garish party so we all know he still exists."
"According to this invitation it's gonna be a wingding!" Rufus cheers pathetically -- even though his classy wife literally just told him it's going to be tacky -- and then Eric walks in wearing casual separates and pointedly sits down on the couch, clearly disinterested in attending the garish Thorpapalooza. "Look," Lily says, "I know you disapprove of me, but can't you please do so in a tuxedo?"