"Ooooooh," moaned Chad.
Snake's, "Aaaaaaaaaaah!" accompanied Chad's moan. To Chad and Snake it sounded fairly harmonic.
"Uh. Uh, uh, th-thank you, Snake. I think I needed that. I feel completely human again."
"Any time, MVP," Snake said thinking to himself that MVP now stood for My Very own Pussyboy. He knew Chad couldn't refuse him now after saving him from become a weird dickless mannequin. Still Rick would be pissed, and might be dangerous. So as he dismounted from the former QB stud, Snake glanced at the boxes of spray cans. Chad was definitely a receiver now. Come to think of it Rick was a receiver.
"Snake, do you have any clothing I can borrow?" Chad asked.
"Not here. But I think Rick will be back soon, so if we're going to keep him from turning you back into a mannequin in the near future, I think we'll have to do something about him. And if we strip and spray Rick, you can have his clothes. You're about the same size and build. So, you better climb back on that pole before Rick returns."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Wish I were. We need to surprise Rick. He needs to think he is alone with his mannequin. Then when we move, he'll freak out, and not have a chance to fight back."
"Well, okay?" Chad said reluctantly. He added, "Do you have any lube?"
"That I do have."
Headlights flashed through the shop windows. Rick must be back. Hurriedly, Snake lubed up the pole, and helped lift Chad into place.
"Hm, you don't look quite right. You got be convincing to fool Rick. I know!" Snake said as he grabbed a can and started spraying the impaled jock.
"Nuh!" Sputtered Chad.
"Don't worry. Just hold still, a light coat to make you tan all over, and a bit stiff, but movable."
He emptied the can, while Chad made muffled noises.
"Sh!" Snake took a handful of cans, then moved the furniture to where Rick had left it earlier. He cleared his workbench, got down on the floor, and waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
"Hello? Snake?" Rick called, as he entered. He looked around the room, and sighed in relief, "Good he's gone. It's just you and me, dummy. A few more coats, and it's dick amputating time. I bought some top grade Bondo to fill out your mound before I apply the final coats. Then I ship you off the New York, and collect my big money."
"Big money?" whispered Snake to himself.
"Huh?" Rick said. He looked at the nearby blowing heat fans, and around the apparently empty room. He added, "Must be getting a conscience. Well, too late for that," Rick flicked Chad's stiff cock, it bounced up and down. He pursed his lips, "I thought you might need a few more coats, but guess you need a lot more before I can saw off my new paperweight."
Rick lifted up a box of spray cans and set it on the nearest table. He took a step backwards toward the man-now-mannequin, and Chad's stiff arms closed around him.
"What the fuck?" Rick gasped.
Snake had worked his way on the floor to the other side of the nearest table. He popped up with a spray can in each hand blasting Rick in the face.