Taking no further hesitation after the other’s permission, the great white moved forward, nudging the odd creature towards the surface with his snout; less than tempted to grab the suit with his jaws lest it break open. The two burst through the surface, droplets of white foam spraying everywhere.

“Ye ‘lright there, mate?” the shark asked, glancing over to the other.

Thankfully, the water began to seep out of his suit. The Repairman made sure to grab himself before he was swept out with it.

“Blblbeah, I-I’ll be fine,” he replied, as he began to regain form on the parts of him that were above the surface. “Just…just let me..”

He lifted an arm to air it out, then pulled a pre-inflated life raft from behind his back. Throwing it on the water, he clambered onto it, pulling bits of himself that were too soaked to get up there themselves. After taking a moment to breathe, he realized something. He turned back to Bruce.

“You know,” he remarked, twisting to wring himself out, “you took that pretty well… you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh- I reckon that can’t be too hard. Though, I don’t really fancy the idea ‘f nosy humans proddin’ into m’ everyday life-” he began only to notice the other’s sudden, stranger noise. Bruce blinked, glancing up to see the suit filling with water, and the semi-formed repairman became less formed by the minute. 

“Ah, need help gettin’ to the surface? Just give a nod or shake of the head.”

The Repairman looked up at the surface, then back at himself. Deciding he had time, he shook his head as calmly as he could. Gosh, his head was getting easier to turn. And was Bruce getting more distant? He looked out the remnants of the suit.

Yes, he was moving through a current.

He sheepishly looked back at Bruce and nodded faster than he knew he could.

The shark blinked, curiously hovering over the Repairman as he worked; binding and reconstructing a wall he had previously ignored or disregarded. But… how could one miss a giant wall in the middle of the ocean?

As the other began to depart, the great white hesitantly followed alongside, like a lost pup. “So… ‘ow does this… Toon business work?”

The Repairman looked back down at the shark. The look on Bruce’s face made the Repairman suddenly realize the effect he had on his entire worldview. He halted, despite the seawater trickling into his suit.

“Well,” he replied, apologetically, “We just… do what we normally want to do, I guess.”

“Toons are just drawn or animated characters,” he continued, now oblivious to his suit filling with water, “so, like I said, most of us can do what we like, as long as it keeps audience interest going. I mean, there are Toons I know who can blblblblb–”

That was strange. He was pretty sure he didn’t mean to say “blblblblb.”

He tried again, still saying “blblblblb.” Why was he…?

Oh.

His suit was almost completely full of water, and his inky body was beginning to mix with it.

He tried to sigh, crossing his arms. This was not how he wanted to spend today.

The shark was silent in thought. “Huh, must be a pretty strange
life, then. Can’t imagine ‘avin’ to live on every moment tryin’ to
entertain some humans who may or may not be there,” Bruce shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know,” the inkblot said evenly, ignoring the fact that he was on a blog, as well as the fact that he has slipped up before.

“Though trust me, they’re there.” Without thinking, he turned towards a screen and motioned for the shark to do the same. “See?”

And then his eyes widened, and he buried his face in his hands, muttering incoherently.

“So, an audience would be more like humans, aye? Or the ones Toons were built to entertain,” the shark nodded. “Sort ‘f like… movies I reckon? ‘eard ’bout those kinds ‘f things from the mainland. S’that ‘ow Toons entertain people, eh?”

The Repairman sighed in relief.

“Yep! Movies, comics, games, things like that…” he trailed off, remembering his own lack of showtime.

“Well,” he said, looking down a bit, “most Toons. I’m just the Fourth Wall Repairman.”

“Well, like what?” the shark asked. Oh, boy. This guy was just
full of riddles, wasn’t he? Nonetheless, the great white attempted to
keep his patience, and temper in check. The other was just trying to
help, after all. With…whatever he had been doing before.

The Repairman started sweating. All he came to this universe for was a check-in on the Fourth Wall (as there was a sudden surge of buzz about this area). He really didn’t expect to be probed so much here, but here he was, explaining Tooniness to a shark unaware of his own.

Judging by the further questions and the look on the Great White’s face, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Erm,” the Repairman tried, gesturing towards himself, “for one, blobs of ink don’t talk or move around in what the artists call ‘the real world.’ So… it’s funnier…when…they do…?”

He coughed. Using himself as an example might not have been the best idea.

“Let me try again. A battle of wits between a talking rabbit and a talking duck is usually a lot funnier to onlookers than a normal rabbit and duck in the same room.

“So long as it keeps the audience,” he continued, wincing as he said audience, “entertained, both the Toons could do and survive most anything.”

He looked at Bruce hopefully.