Blair calls a sidebar, basically for the hell of it, and she asks if by any chance Serena got fucked today, and again her mouth is saying no but her eyes are whirling around in their sockets and sweating down the walls and doing a pelvic gyration and whipping her hair like she's got Will Smith money and doing that high-heel dance where you put a ring on it and oh, shit, I should not have looked at her mouth. This is the most deranged superpower Serena's ever had. I think my bowtie just no-hands bowtied itself.
Whilst all that was going on, Blair was explaining to Serena's breasts that they are about to do the same thing they always do -- take a perfectly normal, healthy relationship and somehow turn it creepy and bring in all these irrelevant bullshit authority issues -- and they (and by "they," I mean the girls) just sigh (oh, and by "the girls" I mean Blair and Serena, not Witch Baby and Cherokee Bat) and think about how inevitable it all is. "Colin sure was dreamy," they see themselves saying next week, "Right up into that bear attack S inadvertently caused." Well I mean, what actually happens is that Serena promises to break up with Colin and stop with the Barbarella brain-sexing during office hours, but like I'm so sure.
While Bluck negotiates the last term of their agreement in private, the Teabag Two from Tuscaloo are working themselves up into a lather over made-up information cobbled together with the connective tissue of resentment and barely remembered civics lessons. "Tell me where in the Constitution it says about 'church and state,'" says Eric, and Dan responds, "Hang on a sec, apparently I'm supposed to buy a bunch of antique coins so Glenn Beck won't go blind." Gossip Girl is like, "And here we have a pair of twats."
Article XIX is: No touching. Enforced by Lady Blair, of course, to preempt another handshake orgasm like she had last week. There are some wistful damn moments outside the building, as Blair and Chuck are getting into their separate luxury automobiles, but you know they're gonna be rawdoggin' it on top of a piano by the end of the episode so you just have to kind of go with it and try to be sad like the show wants.
Apparently Gossip Girl has installed a chip in these people, because the latest 2.0 feature is a GPS tracker that will tell you where Serena is at all times. My understanding is that GG had this feature originally, back in the '80s when Gossip Girl was just a dialup BBS, but she was forced to remove it after the My Sister Sam incident. I don't want to be all "That's preposterous!" but... If you ever feel like murdering Serena van der Woodsen -- which, just anecdotally speaking, statistics favor the affirmative -- now you can. Just get the app and go for it.