Chuck: I wonder what lucky school will be the subject of the next nursery rhyme penned by Brooklyn's lamest fiction writer?
Dan: Actually, Chuck, I think the Dean of admissions at Yale will actually appreciate my ability to write about, uh, damaged characters.
Chuck: Looks like we'll be spending the weekend together.
Dan: How nice.
Chuck: Say hello to the characters on public transportation for me.
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 ivies are the holy trinity-- Harvard, Yale and Princeton.
Serena: 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. Since we're not friends anymore, let me speak frankly. You're not that smart. You lack focus and discipline. Charm is all well and good, but in the real world, knowledge is power. You wouldn't make it past the first round of admissions at Yale, no matter how hard you tried. Have fun in Providence. Oh, and, you know, maybe you can get your hair dreadlocked while you're there.
GossipGirl: Gossip girl's hardly a war buff, but I did cram for a quiz or two on the American Revolution. The last time new haven was invaded was in 1779.
Serena: Hey, mom. Change of plans. Tell the driver we're going to Yale.
GossipGirl: Heads up, B. There's a cannonball coming your way.