“Barrels, right. Floating down a gentle stream in a couple’a barrels… Hey, what’s that sound? Sounds like rushing water and impending doom. There’s no waterfalls around here, is there?”
“Just a sec. Almost… done…”
The Repairman had been busy pulling the barrel off the lid. That last nail was a bit of a tricky one; he was pretty sure he would need a new hammer after this.
Finally, the nail popped out and the Repairman threw the barrel behind him, riding the quiet current on the lid. The inkblot happily took in a breath of fresh air, and looked around to get his bearings. The foliage was dense on either side of the river, but it seemed to be thinning out as the two went along, being replaced with mist and a dull roar.
The Repairman jumped as he saw what lied ahead, nearly losing his balance on the small disc he had. He suddenly regretted losing what little shielding he had.
“Erm…Would you feel better if I said it was clever acoustics?”
Siblings-a-Fixin' 