The story continues…
Blair: The only thing lamer than dating Dan Humphrey is mourning Dan Humphrey.
Chuck: You’re lying.
Blair: I am not!
Chuck: Your eyes are doing that thing where they don’t match your mouth.
Blair: I wasn’t aware that robots got jealous. Did they update your software while I was away?
Chuck: Look, I know what that pin means to you. You gave it Nate the first time you said you loved him.
Blair: Well I asked for it back. I thought James should have it now.
Chuck: Do you, ah, really feel the same way about him as you did Nate?
Blair: I do.
Chuck: I’ll see you at school.
Blair: Damn that Motherchucker!
James: It’s no wonder you hate Charade. It hits too close to home.
Blair: You don’t understand. Chuck. Is an awful person. He does terrible things. He uses people.
James: And you think you’re any different.
James: I bet you don’t even like me.
Blair: No. Well, you’re a little boring.
James: Am I? Or are you just too interested in yourself to get to know me? You two deserve each other.
James: I haven’t been honest with you.
Blair: Okay, spill it.
James: I don’t go to Princeton or Georgetown or any school whatsoever. I’m afraid I slipped up on that detail. My name is actually Marcus Beeton. I’m British. And a Lord.
Marcus: Tell me, what else do you think about me?
Blair: Keep talking in that accent and I’ll come up with something.
Chuck: I was scared that if we spent the whole summer together that you’d see.
Blair: See what?
Chuck: Me. Please don’t leave with him.
Blair: Why? Give me a reason. And “I’m Chuck Bass” doesn’t count.
Chuck: ‘Cause you don’t want to.
Blair: Not enough.
Chuck: ‘Cause I don’t want you to.
Blair: That’s not enough.
Chuck: What else is there?
Blair: The true reason I should stay right where I am and not get in the car. Three words. Eight letters. Say it, and I’m yours.
Chuck: I… I…
Blair: Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear.
Blair: Since you don’t go to Princeton or Georgetown I assume you’re not headed back to college. So where are you headed? Are you staying here?
Marcus: Well would it be too forward of me to say I’ll go wherever you go.
Blair: I’d be honored, m’lord.
Marcus: Blair, you don’t have to call me that.
Blair: I know. I was up all night reading Debrett’s Peerage. I’m well-versed in your laws and ways. I’m ready to meet the Queen. Which I also watched on DVD, BTW.
Blair: It’s like Roman Holiday. Only I’m Gregory Peck and he’s Audrey Hepburn.
Blair: Well done, Dorota. I like what I’m seeing. Now make the library the Sky Terrace; the renoculous, dahlias; the [?]. And I think we’ve got ourselves a party.
Dorota: Thank you, Miss Blair.
Blair: This guest list, however, is a complete page one.
Dorota: But those are your friends.
Blair: Then invite strangers! I have to present myself as a crown jewel. Surrounded by other, smaller, slightly flawed gems. But quality none the less. And try to round up a few people who can vote so it doesn’t feel like a total high school party.
Blair: Marcus dated the descendant of Princess Grace. His consort needs to be able to host royal dinners and hobnob with oligarchs and dictators.
Serena: Well if you can’t find common ground with a dictator I don’t know who can.
Blair: This party’s a complete bust. My whole life’s a bust.
Serena: Well it serves you right. You were scheming to convince Marcus you’re someone you’re not.
Blair: But my intentions were good. I really do like him, I just— As soon as I knew he liked me I would have relaxed and dropped the manipulative plotting and devoted myself to being the best girlfriend ever.
Serena: See? Thank you! There’s my B. Show this girl to Catherine and she’ll want you to be with Marcus. This is you, just be yourself.
Blair: She made Waldorf rhyme with Spears. I may as well have gone commando and held my party at Nyla’s Burger Basket.
Blair: Can I just say how sorry I am that I judged you earlier?
Catherine: You judged me?
Blair: I thought you were just a callow, social-climbing, former swimsuit model who married above her station only to be enslaved by her own insecurities. But now that I’ve seen you rolling around on the floor with my adolescent ex I understand you have a compassionate side too.
Chuck: Did you enjoy meeting Duchess Beeton?
Blair: I did.
Chuck: That’s not sarcasm in your voice, that’s—
Blair: Victory. I know. Your plan to ruin me totally backfired. Turns out Marcus’ mommy is even sicker than you are.
Chuck: You got along great.
Blair: I think she recognized a part of herself in me. Or rather I recognized someone in her.
Chuck: I don’t follow.
Blair: All you need to know is that you lost. But don’t be too hard on yourself. It was a solid effort.
Chuck: Tomorrow’s another day.
Blair: Goodnight Chuck.
Chuck: Goodnight Blair.
Marcus: I thought you wanted my help with this party you’re hosting.
Blair: A back-to-school party for seniors and my parents. It can wait.
Marcus: But someone could walk in. Dorota.
Blair: So? Did you see Atonement? That scene in the library when they’re discovered.
Marcus: Blair, that’s not you.
Blair: It’s not?
Marcus: You’re a delicate little flower. Nothing like that trollop Keira Knightley.
Serena: Eleanor comes home today. You excited she finally gets to meet Marcus?
Blair: And see why he’s so wonderful. It’s not often you find a man who’s intelligent, sophisticated, has an appreciation for Golden Age Hollywood and is a gentleman to boot. You know he hasn’t pressured me about sex once. Once. Not once.
Serena: Why can’t you support me?
Blair: Have you two talked about everything? About all the very real reasons you broke up last year?
Serena: Not completely.
Blair: Well when you do, if you’re still together, I’ll be happy for you. ‘Til then I just think you’re fooling yourselves.
Blair: You think I’m just going to sit back and watch you have an affair with my boyfriend’s mother? Guess again.
Nate: So what are your plans? To distract me with Vanessa?
Blair: Yes. What about it?
Nate: It’s just as your plans go it’s kind of nice.
Blair: A? Don’t be offensive. And B. From what I just witnessed if you want to keep her you’re going to have to step it up.
Blair: Duchess, it’s me. He’s bringing her. And for the record, whatever you’re planning with Nate? My bedroom floor’s off limits.
Catherine: Blair, have you seen Nate?
Blair: Um, no. It’s a blackout.
Blair: It’s for your own good S. They were going to lunch together. Lunch. As in the meal before dating.
Vanessa: I’m trusting you Blair.
Blair: Like you have a choice.
Chuck: Watching you fail spectacularly gives me so much joy.
Blair: And you know what you give to everyone Chuck? Misery. There’s a reason you’re always out here alone.
Chuck: Nate just happens to be away at his grandparents.
Blair: Nate’s only friends with you out of habit. The only person with fewer friends than you is Dan Humphrey. And at least his lame 90s dad likes him. And that’s because he’s something you’ll never be: a human being.
Jenny: I waved the white flag at school. Why can’t you just claim your throne and leave me alone?
Blair: Because I can’t!
Jenny: This is about Serena. I didn’t realize.
Blair: And why would you?
Jenny: You might be privileged, Blair, but you work for every single thing you’ve achieved. Like me. Serena just glides through.
Blair: Tell me about it.
Jenny: I wanted to be your friend last year for a reason. I wanted you to like me.
Blair: You blew off our most beloved tradition.
Serena: Just get over it, Blair.
Blair: Excuse me?
Serena: My whole life I have been bending over backwards to protect your feelings. And you know what? It’s not my fault you’re so insecure.
Blair: And I’m sure it’s not your fault you’re so conceited.
Serena: I’m just tired of trying to hold myself back so I don’t outshine you.
Blair: Oh my god. Can you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?
Serena: It’s just the truth. From now on, I’m going to be who I am. And if you can support that and not be threatened and competitive, then great. If not…
Blair: If there’s one thing I know it’s that I give good interview. I could make Larry King cry.
Serena: So you’re off to Yale?
Blair: Your deductive reasoning skills are perfect for a place like Brown.
Serena: A place like Brown?
Blair: An enclave of trustafarians and children of celebrities who major in drum circles and semiotics. Whatever that is. I can’t wait for you to come home next Thanksgiving a militant veganista. Anemic and proud!
Serena: Brown is an Ivy League school.
Blair: Everyone knows that the only real Ivys are the Holy Trinity. Harvard, Yale and Princeton.
Serena: Well I know you may find this hard to believe, but not everyone wants to go to Yale because not everyone wants to be Blair Waldorf.
Blair: Not everyone can be.
Blair: Of all the things—Nate, my mom, the girls at school—you wouldn’t take this from me. Because if you do, I swear I will take you down.
Serena: I’m not taking anything from you, Blair. I was invited. And as for taking me down. I’d love to see you try.
Blair: I’m sick of always looking like Darth Vader next to Sunshine Barbie. Life’s too short. And you make it feel so long.
Blair: What are you doing here? Making sure the Dean knows it’s all my fault?
Serena: No. I came to tell him that Yale is your dream and you deserve to go here more than I do. What are you doing here?
Blair: Doing the same thing for you.
Serena: I was up all night thinking about the first time we came here together when we were nine. Your dad took us to that Harvard-Yale game and you tackled Senator Shumer’s daughter for wearing a Harvard sweatshirt.
Blair: I bet those grass stains never came out.
Serena: I don’t want to not know you. I can’t not know you.
Blair: Maybe we just had that fight because the reality of being separated next year is just too scary to think about.
Blair: Poor Chuck. What is life without a friend to share it. Oh. It looks like you just lost yours to Dan Humphrey.
Chuck: Who cares. I’d rather talk about who you lost yours to anyway.
Blair: Uh uh. Been there, done that. Been decontaminated.
Chuck: We both know you’ll do it again. It’s just a question of when.
Blair: The answer is Never.
Chuck: We’re inevitable, Waldorf.
Blair: Despite whatever vestigial attraction my body may feel for you, my brain knows better. And yours should too.
Penelope: Kelsey Kelsey Kelsey. How many times must we tell you. As one of the girls at the steps you represent Constance royalty.
Iz: So it should come as no surprise that many girls before you have gotten the axe when their choices reflected poorly on us.
Kelsey: I didn’t realize.
Blair: That tights are not pants?!?! Honestly!
Vanessa: Blair, you got a minute?
Blair: Sixty seconds, clock it. What are you doing here with those? Shouldn’t you be at Whole Foods?
Chuck: Waving the white flag are we?
Blair: Not exactly. I’ve got a proposition for you.
Chuck: I’ll say yes.
Blair: That little troll Vanessa is working my last nerve.
Chuck: Not what I expected.
Blair: And then I realized, this could benefit both of us.
Chuck: You had me until “troll”.
Blair: Dan stole your best friend. Now you can steal his. Seduce and destroy.
Chuck: What’s in it for me?
Blair: The thrill of the impossible. The only person Vanessa loathes more than me is you. It’ll be one for the ages.
Blair: I’m prepared to settle.
Chuck: Maybe I’m not.
Blair: Chuck Bass. I will never say those words to you.
Chuck: Then you will never have me.
Blair: Is this because of Vanessa? It was a game, Chuck. That’s it.
Chuck: Maybe I want to raise the stakes. Are you ready to play that game? I chased you for long enough. Now it’s time you chased me.
Gossip Girl: And some things never change. Let a new game begin. XOXO —Gossip Girl
Gossip Girl: Every girl fantasizes about finding her Prince Charming. But if that Prince refuses to come…
Dorota: You are late. Time for breakfast.
Blair: I’ll be down in a minute. I just have to finish something.
A girl has to take matters into her own hands.
Dorota: Don’t forget: God always watching Miss Blair.
Chuck: Wanna get in? I’d love to give you a ride.
Blair: Oh I’m sure you would. Too bad you’ve made the terms of that arrangement impossible.
Chuck: About that. Maybe I was a little too hasty. Come on. Get in.
Blair: Maybe I don’t want you anymore.
Chuck: Don’t torture me. I’m dying. As Blair approaches the car, Chuck locks it. All you have to do is say those three magic words.
Blair: I hate you.
Blair: You know just because you two are making a doomed attempt at being friends doesn’t mean I have to play the enabler.
Blair: I have an itch that only Chuck can scratch and he won’t oblige unless I tell him I love him.
Dan: You need help getting Chuck to sleep with you? Really?
Blair: You hear the judgment in his voice right now, right?
Serena: He’s working on that.
Blair: I was thinking I would just disappear for awhile and give him a taste of life without me.
Dan: No. That’s a terrible idea. Don’t disappear. Become unavoidable. Chuck may be a deviant but he’s still a man. So just, you know, drive him crazy, wear him down. You should be good at that.
Blair: Well look who finally got a little interesting.
Dan: I’m sure it’s a fluke.
Blair: So ever since Charlize Theron became the face of Dior I’ve wanted to change my signature scent and I’ve been trying out a new one. would you mind?
Chuck: Smells a little like desperation.
Blair: Yeah, well I’ll just keep on looking. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.
Blair: I just wanted to thank you for encouraging me to throw myself at Chuck. I can skip dinner now that I’m so full of humiliation. Chuck was completely unmoved.
Dan: Well are you sure he wasn’t just acting like it didn’t work?
Blair: Unfortunately there was no hard evidence of that. Literally. I didn’t even get the chance to show him my necklace tangled up in my hair. The nape of the neck is Chuck’s kryptonite.
Dan: Oh, that’s good to know. So he just got up abruptly and he left?
Blair: Like a Bass out of Hell.
Dan: Well then you’ve got him right where you want him. Trust me. He’s headed home. Intercept him.
Blair: I’ll let you know what happens.
Dan: Oh… please don’t.
Blair: Chuck just texted me. He wants to meet me on the roof.
Serena: The roof?
Blair: Well this way if he doesn’t say it back to me then I can just jump. And then he’ll be really sorry.
Serena: Oh no, don’t do it B. You don’t want your obit to say you died in Brooklyn.
Chuck: What’s going on, Blair? You told me you had something to say to me. Say it.
Blair: Why do I have to be the one to go first? I was the one who waited on the helipad for you. I went to Tuscany alone.
Chuck: That’s ancient history.
Blair: I was the one who asked you to say it first.
Chuck: At the White Party? When you were on your way out with the Count? Did you really think I was going to say it then?
Blair: Yes! And when you didn’t I wanted to die.
Chuck: Don’t tell me you brought me all the way to Brooklyn for this. I thought you were ready to tell me how you really felt. Obviously this is just another one of your games.
Blair: My games? You’re the one who started this.
Chuck: And you’re the one who finished it.
Blair: Are you here to gloat?
Chuck: Over what?
Blair: Well you won. Pop the champagne.
Chuck: I didn’t win.
Blair: Then why does it feel like I lost?
Chuck: The reason we we can’t say those three words to each other is because they are true.
Blair: Then why?
Chuck: I think we both know the moment we do it will be the start of something and the end. Think about it. “Chuck and Blair going to the movies”. “Chuck and Blair holding hands”.
Blair: We don’t have to see those things. We can do the things that we like.
Chuck: What we like is this.
Blair: The game.
Chuck: That and I’m not sure how long we’d last. It’d just be a matter of time before we messed it all up. Look, I’d rather wait. And maybe in the future.
Blair: I suppose you could be some excruciating pleasure.
Emma: Is my mom gone?
Blair: Yes. So what kind of movies do you like? Something where the animals sing, or— Oh sweet heaven.
Emma: So. Muffy McDonough’s been bragging about how she’s going to lose her virginity because she finally landed a date with the lacrosse captain. They call him the De-Virginator.
Blair: Oh my god. Stop your mouth from moving.
Emma: But now that I have the night away from mom and dad, we’ll see who’s first. I’m saying TTFN to my you-know-what.
Blair: Or, maybe we’ll see how your mom feels about your little clearance sale, Lohan.
Blair: Well, you finally did it. Made absolutely sure I’m never going to get into Yale.
Serena: What are you talking about?
Blair: Little Emma? Turns out she’s less Holly Hobby and more Jenna Jameson.
Serena: Can you speak plainly?
Blair: She’s determined to become a woman on my watch. And if I don’t help pimp her she’s going to character assassinate me to the dean.
Serena: I don’t understand. I thought she liked ice cream and magic.
Blair: Next time leave the scheming to the experts. What are those?
Serena: Pictures from Camp Suisse. Aaron dressed up as Cecil the Caterpillar. I bumped into him outside The Palace.
Blair: The guy gave you a ring pop when you were six. Move on.
Serena: It was licorice and I was eight.
Blair: Ancient. Unimportant. History.
Chuck: Kittens, please. I found her table.
Blair: You’re behind the plot Bass. She already left.
Chuck: The bartender says she’s in the corner booth.
Blair: E. Boardman. Elizabeth. That’s not Emma. That’s her mother.
Serena: And that’s not her father.
Chuck: So Humbert Humbert’s name is Serge Gromance. His father plays tennis at the club. I know where his building is. Let’s go.
Blair: I’m going over there.
Serena: I’m late for the Gala. My mom’s texting me. Look, do whatever you want, Blair. But please, save Emma first.
Blair: Fine. We’ll save Little Red Riding Hood from the Big Bad Wolf. But after that it’s “Bulldog! Bulldog! Rah rah rah!”
Blair: You still don’t get it. Having sex for the first time shouldn’t be part of a competition to beat Muffy the Lacrosstitute. It should be with someone you love.
Emma: Was your first time with someone you love?
Blair: Yes. It was. And honestly? There are better ways of getting your mother’s attention.
Emma: I told you, this is about Muffy.
Blair: Please. I wrote the book on distracted, self-centered mothers. My mom has never met a single one of my teachers. She regularly forgets my birthday. And she only comments on my appearance when she has something to criticize.
Emma: But you’re perfect.
Blair: True. But that’s why I finally realized it wasn’t about me. The same way it’s not about you.
Blair: Mrs. Boardman, before you say anything you’ll regret—
Elizabeth: What was your plan? Take my daughter clubbing and hope she’d plead your case to the Dean? I have some bad news for you, Miss Waldorf. From what I’ve seen, you’re not Yale material.
Blair: Oh you haven’t seen anything yet. Tell me, did you have a nice time with your Bryn Mawr friends?
Elizabeth: What is that supposed to mean?
Blair: Here. Let me lend you my phone. You’ll be needing it to make a call to New Haven.
Emma: Mom, this isn’t Blair’s fault—
Elizabeth: I told you to go to bed!
Emma: Blair was only trying to help me.
Elizabeth: You’re lecturing me? No wonder I don’t want to spend time with you. Bed! Right now! You were saying?
Blair: Just. Your daughter’s a great girl. You should pay more attention to her. Soon it’ll be too late.
Serena: B, it’s time to get up. There are other schools besides Yale. Like Princeton.
Blair: Princeton is a trade school. There’s only Yale.
Serena: Well I’m proud of you for not succumbing to your baser instincts. Hey, even though you might not get into Yale at least you won’t go to Hell.
Blair: Though it seems like just yesterday Serena and I were eight and playing dress-up in my mother’s vintage Manolo’s, my eighteenth birthday has finally arrived. So blood orange martinis or blue  Belvedere?
Penelope: Why don’t we make drinks tonight and do a taste test?
Blair: Oh I can’t. I’m meeting my mother’s new boyfriend.
Hazel: Even moms have a boyfriend. And I don’t.
Blair: Cyrus has been one of my mom’s attorneys since the divorce. He asked her out when they first met but she didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. Finally his amorous overtures wore her down and she agreed to dinner. She’s been smitten ever since. One thing my mom has is good taste in men. Maybe a dashing step-dad is just what I need.
Blair: I called you like ten times last night. Where have you been?
Serena: I went to the dentist at lunch. And yesterday I met Aaron in Times Square. B, it was the most romantic thing—
Blair: Who cares about plaque or pretentious artists when your best friend’s having a meltdown. He’s totally unsuitable.
Serena: Who is?
Blair: Cyrus. He’s five feet tall. He has a catchphrase. And he’s a hugger. I was expecting Cary Grant and I got Danny Devito!
Serena: That sounds… um, awful. phone rings Oh, sorry. I’ve got to run.
Serena: Yeah. He asked me to pose for him in his studio. To be his muse.
Blair: And you said yes?
Serena: Why not? It’s romantic.
Blair: No. It’s a death trap. Being a muse never works out.
Serena: Plenty of women have been both lover and muse to famous artists. Like Picasso.
Blair: Serena! A guy starts out in his Blue Period and everything’s great. But it’s only a matter of time before he’s all into Cubism and it’s some other girl’s eye coming out of her forehead.
Dorota: You have glow Miss Eleanor. Like Chinese lantern.
Eleanor: Well. It’s love, Dorota.
Blair: How can you possibly love Cyrus? He does all the things you hate. He uses the wrong fork. He slurps his soup, he wears sports socks. He’s short and pushy. He’s nothing like Daddy.
Eleanor: Which is precisely why I like him. Harold was lovely in a million ways but he had his secrets. Cyrus is someone I can trust.
Blair: Screw Grace Kelly! I need a scheme.
Dorota: Oh no.
Blair: Are the caterers done setting up downstairs?
Eleanor: Yes. And what about you, my sneaky daughter? Are you done yet?
Blair: What do you mean?
Eleanor: Cyrus told me that you had lunch together, he was very touched. Of course he doesn’t know yet that you have an agenda for absolutely everything.
Blair: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Eleanor: Blair. You’re not a child anymore. But you can’t help it, can you? You can’t help meddling and scheming.
Blair: I would say, “I told you so” but since I’m now eighteen I will refrain.
Blair: So Pablo’s already moved on. That was faster than I thought.
Blair: Cyndi Lauper! What are you doing here?
Cyndi: My pal Cyrus called me yesterday. He bought out my gig and asked me to play this girl’s party instead. I guess he’s madly in love with her mother. I’m looking for a Blair Waldorf. Blair offers her hand How do you do.
Blair: Make yourself at home. I— Oh! Dorota! This is Dorota. She’s your biggest fan.
Dorota: Oh my! Miss Lauper. Wait! Miss Blair. Where are you going?
Blair: I wanted a Harry Winston choker for my birthday and instead I got a conscience. I gotta go.
Blair: You threw in the towel rather easily. I expected a harder fight.
Cyrus: I’m smart enough to know that getting into a war with Eleanor’s daughter is never going to result in a victory.
Blair: So you retreated with dignity.
Cyrus: Who says I gave up?
Blair: Oh my god. You outmaneuvered me! You deliberately let me win counting on the fact that Cyndi Lauper would prey on my emotions.
Cyrus: I’m a lawyer. I do think a few moves ahead. Some of us can’t rely entirely on our looks, you know.
Blair: Well done.
Cyrus: Not enough.
Blair: Fine! You’re a genius. You better be good to my mother or I’ll be coming for you.
Cyrus: Those are fair terms.
Blair: Now. Come upstairs and stand next to me while I tell my mom the whole truth about the golden lion. She’ll be furious with me so I may need an attorney.
Blair: I can’t believe Aaron is Cyrus’ son. Of course you get the prince and I get stuck with the toad.
Serena: I really tried to deal with the casual dating thing but it’s just not for me.
Blair: Of course it’s not. Because beneath that free spirit façade you’re totally conventional just I am.
Serena: It’s not a façade. I believe in freedom. People following their hearts, doing what they want. You know I always wish I had lived in the 60s.
Blair: You believe in long hair, peasant skirts and sandals. But you in an open relationship, I don’t think so.
Blair: Even though Daddy isn’t coming, I’m determined to have the perfect Thanksgiving I didn’t get last year. You’re still going to help me make his famous pie tomorrow.
Serena: Yeah, but I can only stay for a couple of hours. Aaron is coming to meet my family before Thanksgiving dinner.
Blair: And how do you plan to introduce him? “Mom, you DVR Big Love. This is Aaron. And he’s just like Bill Paxton only younger. And with scruff.” I’m serious. The Serena I know would never want to share a guy she really liked with anyone else.
Serena: Well I’ll admit it’s been hard. I like him enough that I don’t want to date anyone else. And you can’t get the prize if you don’t want to compete, right?
Blair: There’s so many things wrong with that sentence. Here comes your Ghost of Boyfriends Past to haunt me.
Serena: Please, try to be civil.
Dan: Hey, have either of you seen Jenny?
Blair: Oh, if she’s hiding from you she has better taste than I thought. to Serena I tried.
Blair: Mother, is there anything you want to tell me?
Eleanor: Why, yes, actually there is! And I will tell you tonight, at the restaurant, once everyone is assembled for dinner.
Blair: Of all the things you’ve done, Mother, this one is the worst. I’m your daughter. Lumping me in with everyone else to hear the news?
Eleanor: I don’t know what “news” you are referring to, Blair. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go check the reservations for dinner. She walks off
Blair: Dorota! Get it together. We’re leaving. If I’m just like anyone else to her I doubt she’ll notice I’m not at dinner.
Dorota: But it’s your favorite holiday.
Blair: Not anymore.
Blair: What are you doing?
Jenny: My dad and I got in a fight. I was crashing at Eric’s and he finally chased me down.
Blair: You’re lucky. You have a family who fights for you. Mine doesn’t even care if I’m there.
Jenny: Your mom loves you in her own way, Blair.
Blair: Not the way your father loves you. I’ve never had that. My own dad, as sweet as he is, isn’t here. Your father will go anywhere for you. Anytime. I know because I’ve sometimes made it happen. Sees Jenny looking at something over her shoulder What? What? Is it my hair?
Jenny: No. You’re just wrong.
Eleanor: Jenny. You look cold. Here. to Blair Come on dear, you’ve made your point.
Blair: I don’t think I have.
Eleanor: Well I think that you might feel differently when you find out what I have been waiting to show you.
Blair: I’ll come. On one condition. Jenny has to go home too.
Eleanor: I think that’s a terrific idea. Everyone should be where they belong on Thanksgiving. With their family. So c’mon. C’mon c’mon c’mon. We’ll drop you off.
Blair: What do you want, Bass?
Chuck: It occurred to me today when I was having my afternoon shiatsu that I should choose your date.
Blair: You? Why?
Chuck: Why not? And it would let me prove I know you better than anyone else.
Blair: Fine. Then I choose yours.
Chuck: I bring a date for you, you bring one for me. Let’s see who’s paying attention to the other’s desires.
Blair: There has to be something to keep you honest. And to make things interesting.
Chuck: Name the stakes.
Blair: If you actually like your date, I get your limo for a month.
Chuck: Fine. And if you like yours I get Dorota.
Blair: What? Dorota?
Dorota: Yes Miss Blair?
Chuck: By the way, I take my breakfast in bed.
Blair: What are you staring at? Go polish something.
Blair: Chuck is in for the shock of his life. I have depths he’ll never plumb, but I know every inch of his wafer thin soul.
Blair: I thought I made it clear that we need to find Chuck the perfect date. Kirsten Curran is the loosest girl in our class. Don’t you know Chuck doesn’t like his fruit pre-picked?
Dorota: She has long hair. In Poland long hair symbolizes—
Blair: And Elizabeth Phillips is somewhere between Mormon and moron. How did you come up with these?
Dorota: Facebook. I join few groups.
Blair: This has to be Chuck’s dream girl. Intelligent but not a bookworm. Strong-willed but still feminine. An equal. And he likes brunettes. With deep brown eyes.
Dorota: But Miss Blair, that’s you.
Blair: No. That girl is out there. And you better hope for your sake that I find her!
Dorota: Please, I don’t want to shine Mr. Chuck’s shoes for a month.
Blair: Yeah, his shoes if you’re lucky.
Blair: We both know that I’m your one and only. And a Canal Street knock-off seemed like the best option.
Chuck: My thinking exactly.
Blair: Fine. If Beta Bass is anything like the original I have no doubt that sooner or later he’ll disappoint me.
Chuck: And I’m curious to see if the new Blair has all the features I so enjoyed on the old model.
Blair: So the bet is still on.
Chuck: Unless you’re prepared to concede.
Blair: To you? Never.
Blair: Everyone—even our doppelgangers can work it out. But we can’t.
Chuck: Dance with me.
Blair: What’s the point, Chuck. We’re never going to be them. You said so, remember? It’s not for us.
Chuck: Maybe. But I wouldn’t change us. Not if it meant losing what we have.
Blair: And what do we have, Chuck? You tell me.
Chuck: Tonight. So shut up. And dance with me.
Eleanor: Wow. That’s a good picture. Lily should send a thank you note to the editor. How is Charles holding up?
Blair: He hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts but the hotel says they keep sending up food so there’s something alive in that room.
Cyrus: You should try some capers with that and just a tickle of the sliced onion.
Blair: Maybe I’m underestimating his emotional bond with Kim and Krissy from room service, but I just think that at a time like this he should be with someone who cares about him.
Cyrus: Not enough! Not enough!
Eleanor: That is exactly why we are getting married so that we can always be around to care for each other.
Blair: It’s true.
Eleanor: Isn’t it.
Dorota: Just delivered, ma’am. For your trip to Paris.
Eleanor: Christmas in Paris.
Blair: How can you even think of your vacation the day that we’re putting Bart in the ground.
Cyrus: Because my dear, in the midst of death we are in life.
Blair: Maybe Nate’s heard from Chuck. she gets up and leaves. Only to think better of it and come back and grab her food.
Nate: We should have just driven to the door and dropped him off on the steps.
Blair: No one should see him like this. He needs to walk it off. Okay, walk it off, Chuck. Lift knee, bend foot.
Nate: Maybe we should have just left him at The Palace.
Blair: It’s his father’s funeral. He needs to be here and show his respects.
Chuck: Respect. My father wasn’t shown much of that in his final days.
Nate: What’s he talking about?
Blair: Who knows. When we found him his shoes were on the wrong feet. Chuck, remember how in eighth grade you used to help yourself to the decanter in The Captain’s library?
Chuck: First got my taste for single malt.
Nate: That’s right. And you’d have to go home to a four course dinner without passing out in your consommé.
Chuck: Or my father would think less of me. What does that matter now?
Blair: Chuck, am I going to have to stick my finger down your throat? I’ll hold back your hair. to Nate What?
Nate: Sorry Blair. You had me, then you lost me.
Blair: Just straighten his tie.
Nate: You’re really sweet with him.
Blair: Me? Sweet? No.
Nate: Yeah you are. I mean worrying about him, offering him food. It’s downright maternal.
Blair: I’m not maternal, I’ve just been spending too much time with Cyrus and I’m turning Jewish.
Blair: Chuck! Stop! Don’t go. Or if you have to leave, let me come with you.
Chuck: I appreciate the concern.
Blair: No. You don’t. You don’t appreciate anything today. But I don’t care. Whatever you’re going through, I want to be there for you.
Chuck: We talked about this. You are not my girlfriend.
Blair: But I am me. And you are you. We’re Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck. The worst thing you’ve ever done—the darkest thought you’ve ever had—I will stand by you through anything.
Chuck: And why would you do that?
Blair: Because I love you.
Chuck: Well that’s too bad.
Blair: I told Chuck I love him.
Cyrus: Really? That’s wonderful.
Blair: No it’s not. It’s horrible. I thought that if I could finally say it that everything would change but he’s jut as selfish and soulless as ever. Only a masochist could ever love such a narcissist. Help me.
Cyrus: You don’t need help. He just needs time. He hugs her.
Blair: Wait, not enough. She hugs him tighter
Cyrus: Don’t worry. It’ll all be okay. You’ll see dear.
Blair: What do you think you’re doing here?