As I've said before and I will say again, some of the best moments on this show come in the pickup - now renamed "Pink Panther" - as the girls travel the lonely highways. Last night, Nicole and Paris figured out how to use their CB radio and spent a good amount of time giving truckers woodies by providing sexual fantasies over the airwaves. Then again, just the presence of a female voice was probably enough to get these truckers going.

But there's plot to be had, so we left these funny antics in favor of the Lutz-Carillo family farm, which inexpliquably was portrayed as some psycho, Leatherface-friendly den of torpor. Unfortunately, even the most elaborate lightning and thunder effects couldn't disguise the fact that this family was actually just a regular, happy family unit. Paris and Nicole made a muddy entrance as the Pink Panther quickly became trapped in the quagmire that was the Lutz-Carillo front lawn. Next time, try the driveway. As father Lutz-Carillo and his sons worked to free the pickup from the unholy grasp of the mud, we quickly came to realize that this wasn't the typical country bumpkin family. Unlike previous hosts in Mississippi and Arkansas and Florida, these farmers were clearly hippie farmers - the type that devoted a large chunk of the 1960s to acid and hairy armpits before moving off to a small Texas farm to live organically and make pottery. Granted, this is all speculation - Bunim/Murray only went as far as to say that the family was simply just weird - but it was clear that the Lutz-Carillos were not of agrarian roots. Just look at their kids' names: Sky and Zephyr. I heard they were bummed that Moon Unit and Dweezil were taken.

For anyone still grasping for a proper image, I recommend studying Lily Tomlin and Alan Alda's performances in Flirting With Disaster.

Paterfamilias Jim clearly did not show the rigorous work ethic of other farmers we've seen. Since he only had enough money to pay for one worker, he concocted the sort of scheme that only an ex-hippie would find logical: the girls would split the work hour by hour, allowing someone to rest while the other labored. Paris noted that the plan made no sense, and for once, I don't blame her vacuousness.