Those tuning in to see the new "Joe Millionaire" are probably expecting several things: a himbo pretending to be a man of culture and sophistication, a bevy of women pretending that he's actually pulling it off, the smug platitudes of butler Paul, etc. And while all of those elements abound in the second edition, there's a new twist as well -- a sweet, simple love story between a man and his horse.

The man in question is David Smith, a Texas cowboy who makes his $11,000-a-year living riding broncs bareback and spends his free time dodging the affections of "buckle bunnies," aka rodeo groupies to you and me. He says his parents raised him "southern" even though Texas is the west, meaning he can't wear his hat in the house (or, presumably, church) and no spurs at the dinner table. All in all, reasonable demands.

David loves his mother and his dog. Not the big, drooling hunting dog one might imagine him owning, but rather a yippy little white Jack Russell terrier. So much for labels. He's hoping that the European honeys he will be lying to will prove more feminine and to his liking than the hard-living women he meets riding the circuit.

To this end, he flies to Italy and meets his tutor Paul at the palazzo where all this drama is set to play out. Paul urges him that in order to live the part it is important that he feel comfortable in his surroundings. However, the real schooling starts the next morning at 7 a.m. sharp with Paul repeatedly correcting David when the polite young man calls him "sir." This lesson never quite sinks in, but by nine Paul has moved on to taking him through the five countries the 14 women he will be meeting are from -- Germany, Sweden, Czech Republic, Netherlands and Italy -- and their respective capitals. Because, you know, nothing impresses me on a date like when a guy drops the fact that he knows that Sacramento is the seat of government for California.

David is a willing pupil, just not a particularly bright one. His knowledge of Holland is "that's where they wear the wooden shoes" and when Paul asks him if he knows what "ciao" means, he replies, "I'm not for sure. Food?"

By noon the show has tired of David and is ready to move on to the women, and, quite frankly, so are we. Cut to the spa retreat where they have been living it up and daydreaming about what the American mystery man will be like. Some want James Bond, some want Lenny Kravitz, some want Keanu Reeves. Johanna from Germany comes closest to the Woody Harrelson they're going to get with her wish list of "tanned, big, blond and really muscular." The editors helpfully underscore this with a shot of tanned, big, blond, really muscular David shirtless.

Next comes the first of several FOX spots for the series premiere of "Skin" airing next. There's lots of pretty people lit beautifully and important publications saying nice things, including the New York Times assertion that it outclasses its time period competition, NBC's "Las Vegas." All that's missing is the tagline "So pretentious you'll think it's basic cable."

Until then, there's "Joe." The ladies (and we're already using that term loosely) arrive at the villa and are greeted by Samantha Harris, the hostess that has replaced Alex McLeod in exactly the same manner that that perky Paige Davis on "Trading Spaces" usurped Alex. Samantha assembles the women and tells them "the story" of David, a real American cowboy.

This is the point where we all learn that apparently Europeans are just as ignorant of Americans as we are of them. It is established that "for Europeans this is a joke" and that Samantha might as well have told them that he's "Santa Claus" as well. Amazingly, the Marlboro Man fantasy hasn't crossed the Atlantic and, well, we already know technical Texan George Bush hasn't done much for international relations.

However, the women perk right up when Samantha goes on to tell them that David's grandfather was an oil baron who set up a trust fund that has just come of age, making the presumed "redneck" worth $80 million. Suddenly, little Italian actress girl is wearing a tank top emblazoned with the logo "Cowgirl" and saying, "Yee-haw."

Thus follows much drinking of champagne and vast displays of stereotypical labeling. All the women know the theme song to "Dallas" by heart, and a few of them attempt a hoe down. Lina thinks Texas is all about "apple pie," "spareribs" and "small villages where everyone knows each other." Linda thinks it's about "living on a ranch and eating ranch dressing every day." A rodeo is described as "a festival with horses," and Olinda (who is quickly distinguishing herself as "the skanky one" with her Deborah-Harry-the-strung-out-years look) makes jokes about David and a certain sheep named Mary Rose.

Realizing that they should really save something for the rest of the series, we are suddenly shifted back to David and his search for the perfect steed on which to make his grand entrance. Of course he's ahead of the game since he actually knows how to ride, unlike that dolt Evan Marriott. David is giddy that he gets to pick his mount (in more ways than one) and knows that he has found true love when he's introduced to Hurricane, a palomino that's one smooth ride.

After shaving in a downward motion that would have the Fab Five spilling their mojitos, David comes trotting up on Hurricane to "say hi" to the assembled women and to ask if they're enjoying Italy, even though three of them are from there. Yes, sweetie, and the capital of Texas is Austin.

David, who can't keep his eyes off of Hurricane, then mumbles something about seeing the women tonight "for sure" and then takes his leave to the voiceover of one of the optimistic cowboy mockers: "My last name means 'poor,' but I'm sure it's going to change soon."

Hurricane just says "Neigh."