Jenny arrives at B's sometime later, and Blair screams at the absent maid, without turning around. "Dorota! I told you I didn't want to see anyone!" When she finally sees who her visitor is, she goes lupine, grinning so hugely you can see every meal she never ate. "Jenny! What do you want?" To bring back the calligraphy pens she borrowed for KOTL, pens which therefore almost inadvertently cost Jenny her virtue, that's what. Blair, Jenny, Gossip Girl, me, you, Sam Endicott, everybody agrees that this is a lame excuse, but not even Gossip Girl is jaded enough to guess what Jenny's really after. Of course, it's right up Blair's perverted alley: "You wanna know what Chuck Bass is saying about you..." Is he saying anything? "Not yet, anyway. He likes to brag about his conquests, not his victims." Ah, well. Maybe next rape. Blair checks her out for awhile, makes a call, and stands up. "Come on. You can help me get ready for brunch." A devious plan is hatched; retiring up the stairs with her new friend, Jenny is heard to compliment Blair on the flowers in the foyer, which so recently replaced the zinnias she's had there for a year. "They're hydrangeas," Blair responds. Heartlessness, and vanity.
Which, let's take a brief moment to unpack that, because Blair's right about Jenny, but you can't be human and understand why: Jenny wants to cross the fourth wall over to the GG.net side of her computer screen; she wants to become a celebrity. It's not about popularity, it's about whatever's beyond popularity. I think sometime this conceit is going to iron itself out, but even if it doesn't, like: we bought vampires, we bought hot robot chicks, both of those things turned out very well, so now we just need to buy GG.net in order for this to make sense. Or rather, for it to be even sicker and sadder and scarier than it naturally is, because this is not some kind of Stockholm Syndrome issue. It's just Jenny, too young to understand the terms, but willing to make a deal.