Marcus unceremoniously flipped Chad over like the empty sleeping bag he now was. Then he felt the cold paint spray through the stencil on his backside. The cold indelible paint started to feel warm, then burn and sting as it permanently bonded to the sleeping bag's outer fabric. Chad hung on a clothesline for hours blowing limply in the wind with a dozen other sleeping bags that hadn't been properly marked.
Rick, Bruno, and the other senior campers gathered for their orientation on the other side of the camp. While they were gone, Chad was scanned, inventoried, rolled up and stacked with the other confiscated sleeping bags.
Just after the dinner bell, Chad heard Rick demanding "his" sleeping bag. Marcus replied, "None of these sleeping bags have your name on it. If you want a sleeping bag, come back at 8pm. That's when Coach said we can check them out. And it's on a first come, first serve basis."