Roger held his breath and silently complied as the strange men took him out of the trunk, untied him, dressed him in the uniform, hoisted him onto the horse and handed him the radar gun, and then drove away. He sat there in the hot Texas sun, afraid to move lest the strange men returned, for several hours. Finally, at approximately 5:45 p.m. Central Standard Time, he fell off the horse.
When he awoke much later in a nearby hospital, Larry King was tickling his toes with a feather duster.
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Legend, oh legend, the third wheel legend...always in the way.