Matthew is sipping on some coffee-looking beverage out of glass mug (don't be fooled, America. That thing is dirty with the devil's poison), and he meets Meredith's eyes just as she erupts, "You are so cute!" Is one of the producers holding up a copy of Tiger Beat magazine featuring adorable moptop cover model Jonathan Taylor Thomas behind Matthew's head? Because you rarely hear an adult woman just bust out with that type of "squeeeee!" love unless she's full-on wasted. Matthew, for his part, gets all surprised and squints his eyes so hard I wonder if a racist children's rhyme has led to someone's putting pee pee in Matthew's Coke. He responds, bewildered, "What?" Meredith shakes her head with continued delight, and in a confessional, she shares, "There is nothing about Matthew I don't love." Except for "Matthew." She adds that he's the guy she's "always dreamed of," and of course they've snipped off the more revealing follow-up, "But now that I've found him, I'm wondering how much he can offer in the 'casually distant, emotionally blackmailing' arena."
Matthew carries flowers from the Phillips's front lawn up to the house. The first person to meet Meredith at the door of her home is the aforementioned brother Matt, whose responsibility it is that Matthew had to acquire an extra syllable whenever Meredith refers to him. And, having met this brother Matt before, it remains a wonder to me that a different Matt has been forced to add the illuminating letters "ew" to his name. Isn't it weird that Bob met these people? I don't remember Meredith even making it that far. Matthew is introduced to Meredith's mother (Evil Sandy Duncan, and her name is actually Sandy!), her father (Santa), her brother (the "ew" tolls next for thee, Matt), and her Uncle Steve (Steve). Matthew confessionalizes that, to his Southern-friend delight, everyone was smiling. Nevertheless, he says that the early goings were "still kinda tough," and we land on Brother Matt, decked out in a pilly maroon scoop neck sweatshirt made by the original Chess King himself before he got a staff to help him out with the sewing and the pilling and things. Matt rolls up the sleeves on the Members Only jacket he's only metaphorically wearing and leaps right into the talking points: "What makes you think you're the best for Meradee?" First of all, stop calling her that. It's not a nickname if it's the same number of syllables as the actual name. Matthew responds that he's going to give an answer Matt might not be expecting, and I cross my fingers in the hope that he'll snark his way out of Sincerity Land in which he resides and just snipe back, "Because the law says you can't have her, punk." Instead he tells him, "I don't know," and in a confessional Brother Matt admits, "Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" Oh, wait. He doesn't say that. I must have gotten thrown off by the throaty, froglike timbre of his voice. Instead, he says, "My first impression was the term 'glamour boy.'" It WAS? Like, from the somewhat less famous Living Colour B-side? Good ol' boy? Yes. Glamour Boy? Not unless you're grading on a curb of "guys in room named Matt." Matthew is all, "I ain't no glamour boy," and then he screams, "I'm fierce!" and Matt reclaims the recapping thread with the continuing observation, "He had much more intelligence and personality than I first expected." Good news for Matthew. Now what do you mean my credit's no good?