Once upon a time there was a boy who was approximately 4 1/2 years old. He enjoyed superheroes and candy. Something else that he enjoyed immensely was posing with mannequins whenever he want out with his mom to establishments that featured mannequins.
Incidentally, his mom always assumed that the boy-child would hate visiting clothing stores, so she refrained from taking him very often when he was in her charge.
Once however, when the mom’s hairstylist texted her that she would be running a bit late, the mom took her son on a fancy Starbucks date and then to Dick’s Sporting Goods. Unfortunately named it was, but full of tantalizing mannequins it also was.
Instead of looking for smart little black running pants that made her ass look phenomenal, the mom followed her strange child around and took photos of him with whatever mannequins he so chose.
That turned out be quite a few.
This is not unprecedented. Last summer he spied a model in a catalog and asked me to take a photo of him just like the model. (Okay, the fab the hairstyle may have been my idea.)
Strange child. The end.