Songbird felt her heart plummet into her stomach with her hopes as the repairman couldn’t find a key. Her wings drooped… but it didn’t seem like he was giving up? She moved closer to him, grabbing the bars and peering through as he pulled a cart from… well she wasn’t really sure where, but she was sure it didn’t matter. She watched his every move with vested interest.

He opened the red toolbox on the top shelf and started to root through it.

“Lessee…” he muttered, “buzz-saw… blowtorch… bolt cutters…”

As he kept digging, he tossed these tools aside, as well as a car battery (that he struggled to lift), a duckie inner tube (that squeaked when it landed), a jack-in-the-box (that a clown face sprung out of), and a box full of springs (which immediately boinged away).

“A-ha!” the inkblot finally exclaimed, pulling out a paperclip. “This should get you out quick!”