The shark blinked, curiously hovering over the Repairman as he worked; binding and reconstructing a wall he had previously ignored or disregarded. But… how could one miss a giant wall in the middle of the ocean?
As the other began to depart, the great white hesitantly followed alongside, like a lost pup. “So… ‘ow does this… Toon business work?”
The Repairman looked back down at the shark. The look on Bruce’s face made the Repairman suddenly realize the effect he had on his entire worldview. He halted, despite the seawater trickling into his suit.
“Well,” he replied, apologetically, “We just… do what we normally want to do, I guess.”
“Toons are just drawn or animated characters,” he continued, now oblivious to his suit filling with water, “so, like I said, most of us can do what we like, as long as it keeps audience interest going. I mean, there are Toons I know who can blblblblb–”
That was strange. He was pretty sure he didn’t mean to say “blblblblb.”
He tried again, still saying “blblblblb.” Why was he…?
Oh.
His suit was almost completely full of water, and his inky body was beginning to mix with it.
He tried to sigh, crossing his arms. This was not how he wanted to spend today.
Siblings-a-Fixin' 