The Prince’s sister is in town for a spot of passive aggressive bonding with the future queen. Trouble is, Blair is suffering the effects of being with child, and is basically one big vominator.
Bulimia, Blair’s childhood eating disorder of choice, would have been the obvious explanation, but in trying to convince psycho princess that she’s not that, she lets the cat out of the bag about MiniBlair (and ignores the fact that the Princess is actually an ambitious throne-pretender with a thing for men of the cloth).
Of course, MiniBlair could be either European or American, depending on whether Chuck or the Prince is the father.
As Dan wisely notes, “even Blair Waldorf cannot bend DNA to her will.” Looks like this won’t be the perfect white wedding.
While Blair is battling the after-effects of a night of passion at a barmitzvah – still so, so wrong – Chuck is battling the lack thereof. He can’t feel anything, good or bad – even Dan’s questionable tickle offer was dismissed – and so he’s going around playing Hire-A-Thug to try and change that.
By episode end he seems to have regained his purpose, largely because Dan wants help hacking into Vanessa’s bank account (surely the password is something along the lines of “I’m so totally awesome and supercilious” before bookgate hits the fan. Something tells me his efforts will be in vain. Yay.
On the other side of the country (but not for long) Serena and fake cousin Ivy are rekindling their family ties. Basically, turns out the psycho thing wasn’t just a role she was playing. “Ivy” really is more than happy to steal someone’s identity and take the trust fund access Serena is handing her on a plate.
Speaking of which, a whole room for her shoes? Can’t they just go in the cupboard? It’s not like’s Serena’s clothes use all that much material.
And lest we forget, there’s Nate, continuing to pursue ridiculous and implausible relationships with women who could be his mother just because, well, frankly, he’s cute and he can.
I’m not sure which is more ridiculous, that Lloyd Blankfein wants to offer him an internship or that we’re supposed to take Liz Hurley seriously as a media magnate.
I mean, come on. Murdoch would never let Mrs Archibald fact-check a “lives of the rich and famous” expose. Amateur.