In fifteen minutes the cans of resin were empty. Chad quickly realized that each coat of resin was permeating deeper into his flesh, and his body seemed to be more and more sensitive to the touch. His weak voice had faded into nothingness as the additional coats of resin were slathered on. Each brush stroke seemed more intense. For forty five minutes after the resin cans were empty, Murph and Bob continued moving their brushes up and down statue boy's body. Chad was going bonkers. He was way past being edged. All he could do was take it and pray that it would stop or he could cut.
"Hm? Maybe we should stop, my arm's getting tired," said one of the stoners. Chad was so blotto after the constant brushing that he really only heard fragments of their conversation.
Apparently, the two had run out of weed, as well as resin, and had found a dolly, and tarp, and had decided to keep the statue they found. "...after all, we painted it", "finders keepers", and "it would be a waste to leave it here where no one can see it..."
Chad had no idea where they were taking him, but he was totally aware of the burlap tarp rubbing against his skin as he was dollies away. He was solid resin now, even the soles of his feet. The stoners had both run their fingers and hands over his solid bare soles. Darn, he was super ticklish now, but he couldn't laugh or cry, though he wanted to do both.