Tag: chainsxwsmile

“Aye, really?” the shark asked. “Why’s that? I mean, the reason that it gets busy?” Bruce hovered over the metal floor, waiting patiently as the Repairman gathered his tools and belonging back into his case. 

“Met ‘nother Toon a few months ‘go. Put two and two t’gether. ‘pparently they live ‘ere, at least ‘round the older ‘hand-drawn’ sector, I believe,” the great white explained. 

“Ah,” the Repairman nodded. Made sense.

He continued as he closed the box and readied his cart. “Well, it’s summer; Toons everywhere get quite a bit busier. I don’t know why, but these days it seems worse in the CGI part.”

The great white gave a few good blinks, adjusting to the lack of plexiglass inches from his eyes before giving his head a quick shake. “Just off to ‘ead back to the CGI sector. Ye ‘ave anywhere ye’re headin’ off to, eh?” Bruce asked, glancing over to the Repairman. 

The Repairman turned around, to fetch his cart and toolbox.

“Careful,” he said, casually, “I hear the CGI area gets pretty busy this time of year.”

After a moment, he added, “Wait, that’s not too different from the rest of ToonTown, is it?”

He shook his head. “Anyway, I’m off to fix the Wall in a stick figure world.”

While packing, he asked, “So, it’s been a while since you found out your Tooniness. How’d you get from the ocean to here?”

“Oh, aye, that’d be great. Not ‘avin’ hands, it… sort’a gets annoyin’ every once in awhile. ‘specially in a world where just ‘bout everybody else has hands and makes things for people with hands,” Bruce added with a chuckle, gliding over towards the Repairman and lowering his head down enough for the other to reach the adapted safety optics over his eyes. 

“Yeah,” the Repairman said, looking back at his formless hands, “I can see that.”

The Repairman quickly took the glasses back and began to fold them back up. As he did so, he looked out the new hole in the door.

“So, where you off to?”

“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?”

Bruce tilted his head, arching a brow as he stared up as his struggling companion. “Ye… need any help up there? I can give a pretty strong pull if ye want that thing out’a the metal there,” the shark suggested. 

The inkblot stopped pulling and looked back down.

“…Um,” he replied, somewhat humbled by this, “If you could, that’d be great.”

Bruce blinked, detaching his teeth’s hold from the metal with a good pull or two, leaving behind two serrated pearly whites too embedded into the metal to pull out. They’d be replaced with a new set of teeth by the next day. 

“Ye could come down whenever ye want-” the shark began only to stop prematurely. “D’ye need any help down?”

The Repairman looked at his saw. Unreliable as it was, it was his. He tried to pull it out again, to no avail.

“Nah,” he replied, adjusting his grip, “I’ll come down. Just need to…”

He tried again. And again. And again.

 "…get…this…out…first…“

“Aye, good idea,” the shark answered, giving a nod before opening his jaws, moving towards the metal plate ripped open until he felt the tips of his pearly whites brush the steel surface, producing an ear-splitting screech. Jaws clamped down tight and a ton or so amount of pressure dug into the metal. Bruce angled his head, pulling the ripped up part of the metal plate back and rays of light burst through the opening. 

The Repairman couldn’t help but wince at the noise as Bruce peeled the door. He gripped the saw tighter as the vibrations and the screeching caused him to shake.

He quickly adjusted, however, and looked down. It looked like it took no effort on the shark’s part to tear through the door. Better still, the inkblot could see light from here.

After a few seconds, he called out, “All right, you think I can come down now?”

“I reckon this’ll be just fine,” Bruce answered, opening his jaws to clamp down on the fragmented piece of metal plate. He paused, though, glancing up towards the other still hanging from the height. “Ye need any help gettin’ down from there?” he asked. Granted, even a fall couldn’t kill a Toon, but despite the constant chaos and destruction of everyday life in Toontown, the shark was apprehensive about letting someone get hurt if he could easily prevent the injury.

The Repairman stopped trying to pull the saw out. He could wait up here a bit, if Bruce no longer needed help. Well, so long as he didn’t drip.

He decided to humor the shark, despite his lack of real danger. “Um, you could try and peel it upwards, I guess.”

That might makes his descent less drastic, and less worrying for the shark.

The great white backed up with a sudden yelp as the chainsaw flew up the wall, the poor Repairman still grasping the tool’s handle helplessly. Bruce glanced about, disoriented by the sudden chaos and noise until their enclosure fell back to a numbing silence. The shark raised his head, catching sight of the Repairman further up the wall, uncooperative power tool still in hand, embedded into the wall. 

“Ye ‘lright up there?” Bruce called up, glancing back down at the saw’s handiwork; although chaotic, it had done its job. Bruce noticed a fragmented portion of light shining through the ripped metal plate. 

“Yeah,” the Repairman called back, “I’m fine.”

He adjusted his grip as he looked down at the tear he caused. He, too, could see light coming through.

“That give you enough room to work?” he asked Bruce, evenly. The inkblot was never too acrophobic; he has recovered from worse heights.

“If not,” he grunted, trying to pull the darned thing back out, “just give me a sec, and I’ll be right down!”

To the shark, who had gotten used to a good number of antics, Bruce only shook his head with an amused grin before glancing back to the door. The great white leaned over towards the Repairman, signaling the other to help him put on the protective goggles. As great as fins were, they couldn’t hold much and their dexterity was limited, at best. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Bruce answered, plastering an expression of confidence across his face. “Let’s do this.”

He carefully put the goggles over Bruce’s eyes (after pocketing the ten, of course). The Repairman couldn’t help but notice the shark’s confidence.

Well, why wouldn’t he be? He’s a great white!

After a quick nod, the Repairman tried showing a similar expression as he stepped back and revved the saw up. He managed to hold that demeanor as he pressed the tool against the metal door.

And then the saw shot up the door, pulling the inkblot with it and sending sparks everywhere.

After a couple of seconds, the Repairman stopped screaming and turned the saw off. Well. He was now dangling a few yards off the floor, with an uncooperative saw.

“Um,” he turned to Bruce, embarrassed, “I think you can start peeling now.”