I just stared as the Repairman pushed a small, silver radio/CD player through the back window.

“Well
it’s unusual for sure, but I dunno about cruel. Unless you set it to
the country music station!”, said Wheezy, laughing as he snuffed out two
spent cigarettes on the underside of his pork pie hat.

“We gotta think of something perfect for this bulky!”, cried Stupid. “But what’s good enough for him?”

“I’ll tell you what’s good for me, you glorified ferrets!”, snarled the Breaker, “Letting me out of here!”

“Quiet!!”,
screeched Psycho, shaking the box roughly, “Or Wheezy’ll put out his
cigarettes on your face! You wouldn’t want your play doh puss to melt!….
Wheeze…Would you mind?”, he whispered, sotto voce, to Wheezy, who
opened the lid and dangled his lit cigarette over the Breaker’s face.

The box was quiet for what turned out to be the whole trip.

-Smartass

The Repairman couldn’t help but chuckle at Wheezy’s comment. However, he had to cringe a little when he heard the threats of burnt cigarettes. Yes, the Breaker would be fine in the long run, but still.

Awkward silence followed after that, until they reached their destination.

As the inkblot opened the door to leave, he stopped.

“Hmm,” he mused, noting his opposite’s laziness, “is ‘breaking rocks’ still a thing?”

That would be a fitting punishment, he felt.

We all started to laugh, getting louder,
but then we all must have remembered that it could kill us, so we all
trailed off a awkwardly at the same time.

“Good!”, said Stupid.
“He was beginning to give me a headache! Thanks mr Blob!”, he said,
shoving you through the window to the holding cell back into the
passengers seat.

“That don’t answer my question,” I said. “I
meant whadda we do with him once we get back home? It’s not like
Toontown even knows who he is. Or cares. ”
-Smartass

The Repairman said nothing as the weasels laughed at his predicament. It was kind of funny that he was the only one to get flung like that, but c’mon…

“Oh, sure th–eep!” was all that came out of the inkblot as Stupid crammed him into the front seat.

He turned to Smartass.

“I mean, couldn’t you…” he trailed off, thinking. “I mean, I could sue…no…Hmm…”

After a moment’s thought, he pulled out an AM radio.

“Hey,” he called to the back, pushing the radio through the slot, “could you set this to a public station and put it in the box with his face?”

He turned back to Smartass.

“Wait, is that considered cruel and unusual?”

The Breaker sounded sick. We were all
kind of hoping he’d throw up, but then again, he’d ruin the back of the
van. It would be all-out “Robot Chicken” claymation mess in there, and I
wasn’t about to clean that up!

Speaking of…

“What will we do with Play-Do over there?”, I asked the Repairman.

-Smartass

“Hang on,” the Repairman replied, after peeling himself off the back door and popping back into shape.

He started to check the boxes for the face. It was a slow task, given the speed, but he managed to search nonetheless. Once he saw the woozy Breaker’s eyes, he pulled out a small tablet and a sick bag. After dropping them into the box, he closed it. After a gulp, the moaning stopped.

“That should hold him over for a while,” he said, before losing his grip on the floor and once again splatting against the back doors.

I could tell the little twerp had more to say. I could literally see the gears grinding in his brain.

Shaking
my head, I climbed in the driver’s seat and turned to him, saying,
“Um….about us being all heroic and stuff…don’t mention it. We got a
reputation to hold up, and if it gets out that we did the right thing
with no obvious motive, we’ll be done for.”

Leaving it at that, I turned the ignition on the truck and drove off at my usual breakneck speed.  -Smartass

The Repairman simply nodded, and got into the back with the boxes. He was quickly thrown back and squished by the Breaker’s various prisons. All he could say was a simple “oof!”; not even a scream really worked out.

The Breaker, meanwhile, was feeling pretty ill from the velocity, plus the fact he was currently separated. No one could see his clay turn green, but moaning could be heard from the boxes.

“You….you fix walls with chewing gum?”, I
asked, not able to believe it. “No wonder they keep on breaking!” I
snorted and shook my head.

We each carried a box full of the
living lumps of Breaker to the back of the open truck and inelegantly
shoved them in there. We heard muffles curse words from whichever box
had his face in it. I hope for his sake he was upside down.

“So where to? Back to where we picked you up?”

-Smartass

“Look,” the Repairman asked indignantly, “do you fix the Fourth Wall? I know what I’m doing!”

He would have gone on a bigger tirade, but he had been sculpted, splattered, framed, and terrified today. It just wasn’t worth it at this point. Besides, the Toon Patrol had just helped him with those nasty rumors.

He sighed.

“Sorry, just…yeah.”

After a moment, he sighed.

“Yeah, that would be nice, thank you.”

“Stupid pulled the car- and I mean pulled cause I don’t trust him behind the wheel- out to the front of the building while we was talking before.” I said, standing up and brushing fine plaster dust off my keister.

Shortly after, the Breaker was boxed up in the only things the boys could find that were suitable enough: those cookie tins that grandmas store sewing supplies in. Apparently they stole them out of the Breaker’s room where he used them to hold paper clips that he stole like trophies every time he broke a wall. Yeah…I didn’t ask. Didn’t wanna know.

“We ready to go, blob?”

-Smartass

"Ah,” the Repairman nodded, noting how strong Stupid seemed to be. And, well, if his name was any indicator, the inkblot didn’t exactly blame Smartass.

“Oh, hang on a sec.”

He pulled out a rather large wad of ACME Pre-Chewed Gum and stuck it into the nearby crack in the Wall.

“All right, ready!”

I snorted. This little blot was scared of us after all we’d been through? Sure, we’re THE toughest things on the streets, but I felt we bonded.
……Ah, forget him! He’s just like the rest. Nobody wants to get to know us, fully. We can’t have our cake and eat it too. Although….

“You know, Ink Boy, I think you got something there about our jobs being similar…. You clean up messes too. Only our jobs are a lot messier.” I noticed the flashing lights. “Speaking of….you got an alert. You need a lift?” -Smartass

The Repairman nodded, sympathetically.

He was about to say "No, I don’t need it,” but stopped before the words could escape. Just ditching after all this? Really?

“That’d be nice,” he said, aloud. After a moment, he added, “But wait, didn’t we leave your car over in our Toontown?”

Ah, well. He was used to walking, anyhow.