“Ah, I guess so,” the great white replied hesitantly. “Was thinkin’ more ‘long the lines that ye saw out a lil’ piece ‘f the door and I pull ‘part the metal with m’ teeth.” Bruce glanced down reluctantly at the tool. “Never really handled anythin’ sharp b’fore. Other than m’ teeth,” he chuckled nervously. 

“Ah,” the Repairman said, somewhat embarrassed at his misunderstanding. “Well, that makes more sense.”

He snapped off a length of the handle, reducing it to its original size.

As he turned to the door, he realized he forgot something. He went back to his cart and picked out a pair of protective glasses.

“You need a pair?” he asked Bruce.