“Not a problem, mate,” Bruce replied. Ever so gently, the shark wrapped his jaws around the repairman’s midsection- or whatever resembled it- and placed him gently onto the ground before directing his attention towards the stuck saw. With a less gentler force, the shark snapped his jaws shut on top of the handle, whipping his head side to side to dislodge the tool from the metal plate. It came out with a screech and a metallic pop! which echoed across the underpass. 

“Hey! Wha–”

The Repairman didn’t think about how he could be picked up in spite of his being blobby. He was used to the rules there being as inconsistent as Tooniness would allow. He was just surprised that Bruce decided to pick him up.

He was about to get indignant, but then he realized he was on the ground without a splat.

Despite his relative apathy towards heights, he breathed a sigh of relief. It just felt right to.

He looked up at the shark, wincing as the metal screeched. After flinching slightly at the pop, he said, “Thanks!”

He suddenly realized how unusual it was to see a CG Great White wearing protective eyewear.

“Need help taking that visor off again?”