You have to use your internal peepers for this one. Let me set the stage for you and tell a little tale.
One day a woman was driving home from her violin lesson. Traffic for some reason was pretty much insane. Inching forward, stop, inching forward, stop. Finally, she reached the on-ramp for the interstate and found that not only was traffic there, crazy, it was moving right along. She merged and then played the get-in-the-right-lane game. It was then that she saw him, two lanes over.
A bright blue pick up. Mid-seventies, possibly early 80's...the kind that you just don't see on the interstate very often. Beat up, of course, it's put some serious time in. The bed is full of lumpy peach colored items. The woman, intrigued now, cranes her neck, one eye on the traffic, one eye trying to figure out what fills the pickup bed....
And then, she spies it. A well-formed, completely obvious swell of a buttock. And there, next to it, is a complete set, standing proudly, leaning against the inside corner of the truck. A load of mannequin buttocks? A truckful of butts? A buttload of mannequin parts?
Yes. And the woman, battling crazy traffic, all alone, wished for a camera.
