That night, Pauly, Vinny and The Situation dub themselves MVP (Mike-Vinny-Pauly) and decide to storm MIA in support of the GFF (Grenade-Free Foundation). Pauly breaks out a pair of super-bright red sneakers for the occasion, announcing that his fire engine-hued kicks mean the creeping is ON. Cue requisite Angelina cock-blocking in which she desperately wants to come with them but tries to pretend she'll be uncomfortable being the only girl. They're all, "Yeah, you probably shouldn't come. It won't be fun for you since it's a guys' night... Seriously, though. Don't come." This rejection only makes Angelina want to horn in that much more. Pauly matter-of-factly tells her, "It's not MVPA." Truth. Eventually, the guys realize that Angelina is not going to give up, so they devise a plan to ditch her that probably would have been obvious to a third-grader. Of course, it works on Angelina, because she turns her head for a second to act all cool and blasé in front of JWoww. They scamper out the door and high-five each other at their masterful trickery.

While Angelina hangs out with the girls to the sound of crickets chirping, the guys think they're going to get their smush on. Instead, our huh-roes are besieged with grenades. They finally find some girls who'll at least take their tops off and get in the hot tub. The Situation comes up for air mid-way through the hot tub high jinks and removes his night time sunglasses to realize they are in the midst of yet more grenades. Worse, Pauly D's body seems to be hurtling in slow motion at one of them! Sitch tries to figure out how to get Pauly out of the trance of the girl's lobster-like sunburn and strapless bra. Because both are so sexy. But she's whispering all sorts of sultry things in the vein of "What happens in Miami..." into his gel-filled ear, and even Sitch's copious mugging for the camera will not save his wingman.

Everyone is momentarily distracted, though, when a chicken cutlet (the kind you put in your bra, not the kind you eat) randomly starts floating around in the hot tub. They initiate a game of catch and eventually decide these girls are too gross and desperate even for their low standards. But before that, all of them spend many strange minutes trying to figure out what the bust-booster actually is. Obviously, these guys aren't as experienced as they claim if they've never seen a chicken cutlet before. And as for the girls, I'm not even going to try to plumb the depths of their hot-tub-soup minds. I might get lost, like I'm four levels down in a dream in Inception or some shit. Who knows what kind of toxic ideas MVP could plant in my subconscious?