He just stared at the other thing not sure if he should, shoot it or ask
it what it was. He flicked the safety off his gun and aimed at the
thing hoping for the latter to occur.
The Repairman, meanwhile, was humming tunelessly, looking for a hex key to put the finishing touches on a Fourth Wall patch. Suddenly, he heard a click.
Painted white eyes turned, and immediately widened when they saw a gun pointed at the inkblot. He reached for the sky and looked up at the other.
“…Aha,” he said, nervously. “…Is this…your place?”
Siblings-a-Fixin' 