The sudden change in the Repairman’s plan led a small thread of concern to sew itself into the pattern of Bruce’s mind, but under the duress of the current situation, the shark shrugged off any feelings of self doubt, moving over towards the named toolbox and gripping the upper handle in his jaws. He paced over towards the hole through which the Repairman traveled and unhinged his jaws, letting the box fall to a noisy clatter into the hole. “Ye see it?” Bruce inquired. 

The Repairman looked up at the arm that was menacing him. It was clear that, whether or not it was programmed to clean, it wanted to scrub the inkblot out. Not lethal, granted, but not exactly something the Repairman wanted to go through.

He was thinking about how to avoid the cleaner when the toolbox landed on it with a crash! Nuts and bolts flew everywhere, and the cleaner fell further down, making several clatters as it banged against the walls.

The arm slumped, and the toolbox slid towards the Repairman. He quickly caught it and began checking for dents and fractures. He was satisfied to find no more than usual.

“…Yup!” he replied. “Got it!”

He began to climb back up to Bruce, pausing only to place an “IOU” card on the remains of the robotic arm.