Pop Vultures

All yesterday, I had planned on writing a post on the Chuck v. Reaper cage match that exists in my head, but I got distracted by last night’s Gossip Girl. I already know I like Chuck, but GG is just sort of pissing me off.

Because, no matter how much I try not to, I will watch it. I can’t help it. It’s a mostly competent teen soap opera featuring actors of at least legal age, so I don’t feel too dirty if I think the bad thoughts (despite the fact that I could, technically, be the mother of the actor playing Dan Humphrey). It’s shiny. It’s shameless. It’s silly. It’s everything mindless entertainment should be…except for one small detail. They haven’t perfected the cat fight.

Seriously, what was up with that last night? There is our supposed heroine, Serena van der Woodsen, going toe-to-toe with her arch-nemesis, the scheming Blair Waldorf (see what I mean about shameless? The names!) and…crying? Begging for forgiveness? Whimpering and behaving in a quietly self-sacrificing way? What kind of a cat fight is that?

In order to help this show maintain its position as the best option for bubble gum drama, I helpfully present the Aaron Spelling Guide to a Successful Cat Fight, which this show would do well to study.

Rule #1: You must have an indomitable will. There is no sniveling, no begging for mercy, NO giving up. It doesn’t matter if you are cast as the good girl (see: Brenda Walsh) or the Devious Diva of Deceitville (Amanda Woodward), you never let some other bitch win, whether the prize is the hot new boy, the career-making job or the last piece of cake. It all belongs to you. Now, own it.

Rule #2: Do not be afraid of physical violence. This includes, but is not limited to: slapping, hair-pulling, pushing them down stairs or throwing them into the conveniently-located pool. Bonus points if they are wearing something you KNOW you would look better in, so you damn well better find a way to get it off their skanky body.

Rule #3: There is no strategy too underhanded if it gets you what you want. Faked pregnancy, deleted voicemails, brain surgery, employment at a strip club — these are all viable options in desperate situations. Or if you’re just bored that night and looking for some distraction.

Rule #4: It is never about a man. That may be the catalyst that kicks off the fight, and it might be the prize at the end of it, but it’s never the focal point. The fight is merely another chance to demonstrate your Alpha Bitch superiority, to flex those Machiavellian muscles before they atrophy. You fight for the pure joy of it. Why would you need to fight for some guy when you have a queue of applicants already lined up around the block?

Rule #5: If you can rock a turban, you’re already halfway to victory.

That’s all there is to it. So, if I don’t see Blair and Serena drenched to the waist in some Central Park pond by mid-season, with their turbans artfully askew as they rip each other’s Marc Jacobs finery from limb to limb, I’m taking myself to Lipstick Jungle in January. Don’t think I won’t do it. Aaron Spelling taught me all about indomitable will.

What did Aaron Spelling teach you?