Stupid pressed on, “but why can’t we see them till they’re broken? And why don’t we bump into them if they’re everywhere?”

I was about to tell him to shut his pie hole….but Stupid actually brought up a good point for once; to get to the bottom of this, we have to understand what this little blob /does/, extractly as he does it.

“Yeah…,” I began. “How does this whole thing work anyway?” I asked, getting closer to the repairman, almost right up in his face.

“I’m curious about this. If we know how this works, we can help you better,” I added, trying to make this less stressful for him. Especially considering it was /us/ he was dealing with.

-Smartass

“Well…er…I…”

As he tried to answer the fat one’s questions, the Repairman forgot all about being stuck in a dried puddle of cement. This quickly became apparent as he tried to back up slightly, away from the pin-suited one, and the top two-thirds of him detached from the lower third with a quiet shlup.

Well, at least he could move now.

As the weasel tried to reassure him, the Repairman looked back in the cement, seeing if he could recover his ink.

“Oh, um,” he continued, still focused on digging the rest of himself out, “I think it has something to do with…metaphors…metaphysics…metagaming…erm…basically, you only see it as the plot demands it.”

He winced. He knew he’d have to clean that up, too.

“Same thing for working with it., I think. I mean, I could bump into it, but that’s my job.”