So Dan tells Cece that cotillions are antiquated and a "remnant of a different age," and Cece tells him to shut the eff up in the only language she knows: "Well, do go on!" Which is your sign to drop everything and run, out of the Preston dance studio, out of Manhattan, out of New York, keep running until you hit Arizona and then change your name, but like Dan is even remedially aware of any of that: "People spend all this money to have their daughters basically dance in front of others for attention." He offers that Serena, being a lovely free spirit who enjoys leisurely pursuits on her own schedule, would probably dance around in front of you free of charge. Cece points out that cotillion "teaches the graces that women should always have in their arsenal," which I guess is true, except you should already have those, and Serena clearly does, so basically the people most in need of cotillion training are the people who won't ever get it, which is: Humphreys. You know who needs some mothereffing graces? Vanessa Effing Abrams. Dan points out that Serena's graces are spectacular, and they laugh, and Serena points out that, since she's a million years old, Cece's own graces are pretty pointless. Ouch, much? Cece leaves, and Serena's like, "Isn't she great?" Dan agrees that Cece is, in fact, something. And that something is an effer, and he's about to eff with her.
"Dan...Humphrey, was it?" asks Cece from over Lily's shoulder, and Lily rolls her eyes and says yes, delighting in it. And at first I thought that was like one of those stock "...of the Hudson Bay Humphreys?" kind of rich-people talk, but in fact no, it has to do with Lily and Rufus, which means that no matter how kind Lily is getting to the Humphreys, she's still signing on to the dogs of war that Cece is about to let slip, just for the joy of giving her mom a Humphrey-shaped finger. "Oh, you think that's crazy? My whole family is dating their whole family. We got Humphrey all over us right now, effer."
Chuck and Blair! Lying in a bed! Bright red tights up over his head! Chuck tells B how hot she looked on "Princess Theodore's arm" at practice, and Blair wonders aloud if that means she's just an accessory. "Next to him, yes," he mumbles, and she shifts onto him, 96 pounds of cowgirly evil: "...On me, you'd be so much more." But of course, she can't be on Chuck in any way, because then Nate would break up with him, and she herself would be ruined, so step one of a journey of a million miles would be for Chuck to start acting right, which will never, ever happen. Just then, Dorota calls up: Nate's arrived downstairs. Chuck sighs and falls back onto the bed, yet to get effed.