Bret Mail! "Motocross was hella fun/The race was great/And four of you -- Magdalena and Sam racked me at the drive-in/Now Brandi M. and Rodeo need some lovin'/It's time for the two of you to have your fun/With a bitchin' day in the L.A. sun." Hella and bitchin' in the same Bret Mail! It's the rebirth of Yeats. Rodeo hopes that fun in the sun equals shirtless Bret. Oh God, I don't think I'm equal to his chest hair. Bret picks up the girls for their date, and en route asks them about the dirt in the house. Rodeo tells Bret that she had to restrain Lacey, and very seriously interviews that she does not want Bret to have that woman around his children. Rodeo and Brandi M. make it very clear that Lacey was out of control, and that they were afraid that she was going to knock Dallas down the stairs. Bret interviews, "To me, Lacey is either going to make passionate love to me, or possibly kill me in my sleep." I don't know why he seems to think these things are mutually exclusive.

The girls and Bret wind up at the store of Ashley Paige, swimsuit designer. Bret says that he's arranged every girl's dream -- to get the hottest bikinis ever tailor-made to fit their bodies by his friend Ashley Paige. Am I stupid if I admit that I totally think that would be awesome and fun? Bikinis! Brandi M. is first, and it does not go unnoticed by Bret that she looks totally hot in her bikini. Rodeo is not skeered, though. She says that Brandi can take her young ass home because all Bret's got his eyes on is her. Rodeo maybe looks a little like vintage Schwarzenegger in her bikini, but Bret doesn't seem to mind. He gets all close up in her business to make sure everything fits fine, which is apparently what a good boyfriend is supposed to do on a date. Is it customary that a good boyfriend brings another ho along with you and does the same with her?

Back at the house, the bad girls start a wall of shame with little drawings of each of the girls, just using "natural facts" about them. Admittedly, they are kind of funny, if remarkably similar to the cave wall scratchings of early man. Hot Hammered Heather, for example, has huge breasts, six arms each holding beer bottles, and is on a pole. When archeologists find this sheet of paper in eight hundred years they'll surmise that she's a fertility goddess of some sort. The drawings feature a lot of boobs. Which, true to life. When it's time to draw Jes, Lacey requests really skinny arms and legs and notes that you can see every bone in her body. She thinks they should start calling her "clavicle." Clever. The drawing is thus labeled "Clavical Jes." And to think Jes called these masters of wit stupid bitches.