Ghosthunting
I went to Woodson Lateral with Bernard and two of his U.C.A. Friends, which was a colossal disappointment. Not on account of them, but because that faceless bitch Susie wouldn't come out from her bridge. Doesn't she realize that ghost stories are the only source of tourism for that godforsaken town? Pay your dues, Susie.
Here's the main story: You stop at a white pentagram painted on Woodson Lateral Road, about 17 miles south of Little Rock. You turn your lights off and honk three times, then wait until a light starts coming towards your car. Supposedly, it's the headlight of this phantom motorcycler who died on the road, whose light just goes through your car if you wait to be hit. What an unsafe urban legend, right? Well, there were too many cars on the road for us to do the deed right, so I'll be back there soon, I'm sure.
Edit: Susan is the name of a supposedly faceless woman who lives under this old bridge, and will come out if you call to her. For reference.