Greg notes that it's nice to "finally" meet Trista. He tells us that he wants a home with "a picket fence," which shouldn't be too hard to find in his current locale of Manhattan. Maybe he should foster his wishes for a Rockwellian utopia with Chris out in Grover's Corners and the two of them could live happily ever after. Greg, I'm guessing, wouldn't be entirely averse to that plan, either. I'm just sayin'.

Matt is the long-lost Howard brother to whom Clint can finally revel in handing over the mantel as "the ugly one." He's forty-two. He's a gym owner in Marina del Rey. He thinks it's "about Trista and I and the connection we have. We either have it or we don't." You don't. Shut up, Matt.

You might think Ryan has a general, Hartnett-esque endearing sense of cuteness when you first see him. And you'd be wrong. The only time you've seen him on TV before now is back when he was groaning Christmas carols on SNL with Tarzan and Tonto. The only reason he should end up with Trista is because his boxlike, lumbering, Frankensteinian presence requires that he get himself a mate who can be referred to often as his "Bride Of."

Here's Brook, who...hey, I think I'm seeing double! He's clearly the genetic DeVito to Trista's in-every-way-superior Schwarzenegger, but the two of them share way too many capital letters on the Punnett square for them ever to be legally wed. (If I totally already wrote that on the forums, I'm sorry.) He asks Trista how she's doing, and Trista answers in a bad fake Southern accent, "You've got a Southern accent." Meanwhile, in a bad real Southern accent, Brook tells us in confessional with a dashing lack of irony, "I'm a cowboy." He notes that "roping a girl is much more difficult than roping a steer. I can let that steer go, but sometimes it's harder to let go of a girl." Or a hairstyle brought to you by the Starship corporate branding department. And, ew. Roping a girl?