The party's hosts come by and the husband starts bitching about a neighborhood vandal who got their birdbath, among other neighborhood landmarks. Another neighbor, Andy, happens by and notes the vandal knocked the seahorse off his mailbox. Jesse the Unconvincing Stoner -- who is Andy's son -- whines that he hated that seahorse anyway, even though his deceased mother picked it out. Andy then proceeds to super-soaker random party guests while the neighbors indulge him for being half an orphan. There's talk of a neighborhood watch, and then Andy jokes that the trouble didn't start until Dexter moved in. Dex, currently incapable of not looking incredibly suspicious at all times, doesn't recognize the joke until Andy has to spell it out for him. You know what that means: Another minute and a half of Dex's VO pontificating about how impossible it is to fit in.
Elsewhere, our fine BBQ host playfully pushes Cody into the (insanely luxurious) pool, to chuckling all around. But when Dexter sees it and tries to do the same to Astor, she's mortified, as is Rita. You guys, this is gonna be a sad hour for Dexter.
In happier, more well-adjusted news (or so the editing would have us believe), we see Trinity has decided to go forward with his second murder. The mother he was stalking all last episode is crying terrified tears as she drives down an isolated alleyway. Trinity's in the seat behind her, dressed in all black like he's a cat burglar. He has her pull into a warehouse parking lot, then directs her inside and up the stairs, at knifepoint. The woman's badly freaking out, while Trinity stays icily calm as he positions her towards the ledge overlooking the parking lot. "It's time for you to jump," he says. He's not even touching her, and he won't push her when she ultimately (after he makes threats against her husband and children) begs him to. "That's not how it works," he says, stone-faced. So the woman, trembling and despondent, steps to the ledge and lets go. Back down on the ground, Trinity sees her dead body and whimpers, "Mommy?" Then he pulls a vial of something or other out of his pocket and spreads it with his un-gloved fingertip along the pavement. That's two killings that rate a 10 out of 10 on the creepy-crawly scale.
The next morning, Dexter emerges from his house to get his paper, only to see the vandal has spraypainted a grimacing smiley face on his front gate. Immediately, Ghost Harry is there to prey on Dexter's doubtful feelings: This is just like 11th grade, when the school kids TP'd their yard. Harry made Dexter clean it up then, so as not to arouse suspicion. So the pattern remains the same: Nobody liked Dexter, and he has to work hard to cover up so he won't give himself away. "I know you're under a lot of pressure," Harry allows (a perturbed Dexter snorts his agreement), but that's no excuse to slip up. Dexter notes a can of spray paint left on his lawn. He grabs it and VOs that it looks like somebody else slipped up this time.