The turpentine goes to work, causing the latex to fall away and revealing your human foot beneath it. The stuff that had been coating it quickly slops off to the ground, apparently undamaged by the turpentine aside from its change in state and turning back into a pink puddle on your floor. You breath a sigh of relief with the knowledge that you won't have to go through life with a massive latex cartoon rabbit foot, and then turn to leave the room and the puddle in it.
Exhausted by the night's event and most definitely unwilling to try your luck with that puddle a second time, you decide to forget about it and go to bed. You're a bit shaken from your experience, but still manage to relax after a time. You lie in bed for a time, slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep. That's when you hear a sloshing noise near your door.
You immediately sit upright, trying to make out what made the noise, but the room is just too dark to see. You try squinting, but don't even see a shadow out there. The noises seem to have stopped when you turned, but you aren't about to give up and assume it's nothing. You squint, standing up to search the room, and walk around for a bit. Nothing touches your feet, and nothing seem to be there. With a sigh, you decide that it probably WAS just your imagination, and sit down on your bed.
You hear a SHLOOP.
Looking back, you see with horror the thing that had been making the noise: the pink latex puddle, which had relocated itself to your bed and now sat plastered to your rear, coating your backside from the tops of your legs up to just a little over your tailbone.