She was a boyish short-haired blonde, strong and athletic, a bit overweight, but clearly fit. Her run for the Little Rock Hash House Harriers had just ended, and Rock watched as she pulled a life-sized mannequin from the back of her pickup. As she stood it up at the edge of the group, it became obvious to everyone, Rock included, that it was a nearly perfect replica of him.
"Shit, Rock, it's you," someone said.
For a brief moment, he was honored, but then the woman poured a cup of beer over the mannequin's head. She began to curse at it, and she then knocked it to the ground with a fist. The crowd was amused at first, but this had turned weird.
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