“You may have!”, I shot back, getting nearly face to face with the repairman, “but that don’t mean we can’t be trusted. We got a job to do! Believe me, we’d love to rough him up a bit to teach him a lesson, but we gotta obey the law! We finally have our shit together, and we don’t wanna mess it up.”

“Toons like you are part of the problem,” snarled Greasy. “You don’t know what it really means to be a weasel. It’s not all stealing eggs and laughing at misfortune and roughing toons up. It’s a brotherhood. And we bust our asses keeping you guys safe when we could easily be part of the criminal underworld. Why? Because somebody’s gotta!”

Wheezy chimed in, “And you were only a fake weasel for about five minutes. Try walking a mile in our shoes! But we have to rise up and prove that we’re more than just the stereotype. But you just judge us at face value instead of how we are. Why should we even bother to arrest this guy? We should just let him screw up your work because /plainly/ you- and all the other toons in this miserable town- don’t appreciate the hard work that goes into making this town the painted, cheerful hellhole it is!”

-Smartass

"Y-yeah, well–” the Repairman stammered, having trouble keeping up with all this. “You think I meant–? You mentioned Di—!”

He sighed. He knew, on some level, it was true. Even sculpted, he was a pale imitation at best.

He wondered how much had to do with the past and how much had to do with the fact they were weasels. In either case, he realized, their actions didn’t reflect what he had been expecting. Harsh, sure, but so were a lot of non-weasel Toon cops. Didn’t mean the Patrol was the same one from decades ago.

“…” he finally said.

He cleared his throat, and tried again.

“…I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his head. “Y-you’re right. You could’ve resolved this job a lot faster if what I thought was true, but… I wouldn’t be here then.”

He sighed.

“…Thank you.”

The Breaker rolled his eye-holes.

“Yeah, yeah, enough of this sap, can you just can me and get it over with?”

“Oh please!,” I rolled my eyes. “We only wanna stop this guy. We want this mess to be over with!”

“We just wanna make sure you can do YOUR job,” said Greasy, “so we can do ours.” “Besides… We can’t dip him. We’d lose our jobs and he can’t be dipped anyway. ” -Smartass

Neither the Repairman nor the Breaker really knew what would happen if the Breaker touched Dip, but neither was willing to find out.

Still, the Repairman realized, there wasn’t much he could do, other than maybe visit the Breaker from time to time to make sure he was doing okay.

"All right,” he sighed, taping the remote back together, “if you’re just going to arrest him, that’s fine.”

He turned to the weasels.

“But how can I trust that?” he asked, pointing to his own noggin. “I’ve seen how you guys think!”

The now-ignited arrows swarmed in the air, taking a few seconds to regroup. “Come on, guys! We’re gonna get Smithy back for what he did to Bowyetta and our brother!”

“YEAH!”

The arrows began charging toward Smithy, shouting and taunting as they went. “Hey! Get outta here, you…” Smithy swung his hammer at the arrows, but they were much faster than Bowyetta was, and he didn’t manage to hit many of them.

The girls gathered around Bowyetta. Bonkakira attempted to help her up. “Are you okay?”

Bowyetta wasn’t in the best shape, but she still seemed to be alive. Her body was badly dented in several places, and her glasses were cracked. When she spoke her voice sounded strained: “Bowyetta is not able to be feeling her legs…”

Beepsumu looked around out the group. “What are we going to do? Bowyetta’s all smashed up, and she’s too heavy to lift… And I don’t think the floor can hold out much longer…”

The Repairman looked around, before snatching the umbrella from Bonkakira. Without saying anything, he opened it and hooked it under Bowyetta’s arm.

While he used the earbuds to secure it, carefully perching the best he could with no legs, he looked at the others.

“Might want to check on the arrows and then hurry back on here.”

He just hoped that those Toon physics would apply here.

Galanthus was wiping the tears from his eyes when the repairman’s voice drew his eyes back over to the flowers, where the concrete hovered perilously over them. “Don’t move,” Galanthis shouted, then flitted away swiftly with no further explanation. He came back shortly holding the ends of a VERY large leaf… at least in comparison to Galanthus. He hovered above the repairman/s hands while the leaf was held under them, ready to catch any cement that fell. “Now what,” Galanthus asked, back to his grumpy, irritated self. “Where do you plan on putting it?

“Well,” the Repairman thought aloud, “normally I just toss it aside, but…”

He looked around at the local flora.

“…Not sure if that’s an option here. Eugh.”

He began to feel the cement seeping through his hands. He didn’t like any rocky/grainy substances in his ink, and knew this would be another trip to the cleaners.

“Hmm…”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. He stayed like that for a moment or two, before snapping his fingers with an aha!

He used this third arm to pull out a bucket, and carefully poured the cement into it before putting it away.

He turned towards the fairy, one hand behind the back of his head.

“Heh, sorry about that. Is there any way I could…?”

And then he realized he was gesturing with three hands. He hastily absorbed one and looked at the fairy sheepishly. He hoped it wasn’t that noticeable.

Before Bonkakira followed the group, she stopped to pick up Bowyetta’s belongings: Her umbrella, a six-sided die, a spool of string, and a set of measuring spoons. Beepsumu shot her a quick glare as she did so, but Bonk’s response was “Bowyetta might want this stuff back. Besides, it may come in handy.”

As the group entered the next room, they were met with another extreme blast of heat, this one even stronger than the last. “G-geez…” Beepsumu mumbled. “I feel like my circuits are going to melt… Could we be in-”

Her question was answered when she felt something heavy slamming the floor, accompanied by another one of Bowyetta’s screams. At the back of the room Smithy was chasing Bowyetta with his hammer, slamming it as he went. Neither of them had noticed the group yet. “You’re not going to get away forever!”

Beepsumu called to Bowyetta. “Bowyetta, it’s us! Are you okay? What are you doing?”

Bowyetta gave her one of her smiles. “Bowyetta is remembering something about this room! If we are shaking of the floor enough-”

Bowyetta didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence. Her brief pause was enough to allow Smithy time to catch up to her, and she was only able to give a singular squeak as she was crushed beneath Smithy’s hammer.

Beepsumu couldn’t even react. She wasn’t sure HOW to react. She could only repeat Bowyetta’s words. “Shaking the floor… Shaking… The Floor…”

Bonkakira looked at the items in her hands. “Bonkakira doesn’t think these will be very useful.

She was answered with a knocking noise. “BUT WE MIGHT BE!!”

The Repairman had a visible layer of mist over him now, as even he was feeling the heat.

He could only watch in shock as Smithy chased Bowyetta around, finally crushing her like the arrow from earlier.

He was stunned until he heard something knock from his hammerspace.

He remembered the arrows, and pulled out his two remaining pieces of flint.

“All right,” he said, as they emerged. “Have at it!”

And with that, he dashed over to try and get the badly battered Bowyetta.

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!”

(Askthefwrp)

“Hmmm, the fourth wall …” Rosalina stated and was colored interested. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I believe that I’ve might have done something similar to yours.”

Indeed. The word as the repairer mentioned, ‘fourth wall,’ suddenly planted into her mental noggin, and it reminded how she used to done those kinds of stuff similar to this fellow’s doing. The tall lady was curious enough to know more about the fourth wall. “Correct me if I’m mistaken: is your job is like traveling through another dimension or another galaxy, except only for repairing the damage?” she questioned the repairer.

“Done something similar?” the Repairman echoed. He hoped it wasn’t the same thing, but still, he was a bit curious.

As he continued building his makeshift bridge (still trying to get out of the low gravity of the galaxy), he nodded.

“Pretty much, yeah. I just go where the breaks are.”

And then a green platform shot in front of him, causing him to jump back a little.

After he stopped sloshing again, he looked at the block of metal in annoyance.

“…Does this happen often…?”

“This guy could easily escape if we put him in jail, though!” I protested. “There’s gotta be some way to keep him from breaking out.”

Greasy reached behind his back and pulled out a dunce-style cap labeled “thinking cap” and slipped it on over his fedora.

“Jefe, if I may, ” he began, before I cut him off. “What the hell is that?” I said, pointing at his cap.

“It’s a thinking cap!” He said, defensively crossing his arms and facing away from me. “I use it to think of ideas! How else do you think I got us out of jail when Pepe LePew pressed charges for almost causing him to crash into a cologne shop?”

“That…was…a good plan….but take it off. We’re too gangster-y for visual gags and prop comedy.”

Greasy reluctantly snatched the cap off his head. “As I was saying…..he’s made of clay or something, so we can’t Dip him…what if we just kept him in lumps like he is now so he can’t re form, and then formally arrest the lumps of clay?”

“Or,” said Psycho, “we could just toss him in the kiln like I’ve been saying!”

“Where do you even know to find a kiln??”, Demanded Greasy. “We’re TOONS! Not sad old people making pots in Florida retirement homes!”

“I know a guy who knows a guy who owes me favors!” Shot back Psycho.

“Let’s just go with Greasy’s idea and cuff the clay!” I shouted, trying to restore order.

-Smartass

The Repairman and the Breaker simultaneously sighed in slight disappointment that prop gags weren’t allowed. And then both recoiled at the reveal that Dip was apparently an option.

The Repairman didn’t really process any of the discussion after that until the leader shouted they could just arrest him.

"What, so you can try Dipping him later?” he asked, sarcastically. “Uh-uh. You can go now; I think I can handle this.”

He glared at the weasels as he headed upstairs, giving an “I’m watching you” gesture. After a moment, the sound of TV static could be heard, and the Repairman came back down with a remote.

“All right,” he said, snapping the remote in half, “enjoy your daytime TV.”

The Narrator moved his mouth in the approximation of a grin. He looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh. No. I should clarify. I can’t really put us in immediate peril right now, because I…” The rest of his words were lost in an incoherent mumble. He pulled self-consciously at his tie and tried again. “Okay, this is difficult to admit, but for the sake of avoiding misunderstanding I should probably enunciate, ahem…”

He brought a hand to his forehead. “Okay, okay… full disclosure: I don’t have the ability to… to artificially engineer a ‘Big Bad’, even one that could potentially unite us.”

“Well, good,” the Repairman muttered, annoyed. “I don’t see why you’d do that anyway.”

He took a quick look around as he finished packing his tools away. Miraculously, he saw that his staples from before were still there. He just had to go further into the office.

If the human narrator would let him, that is.

“Um,” he started, awkwardly, “Could I just…finish this and go…? I know you don’t really want me here, but I have to do this…”

Link and Zelda finished gathering their things and were walking out the door just as the ghosts and inkblot’s discussion reached the kinds of instruments he didn’t play.

“The bass. The instrument you’re thinking of is the bass guitar.” he commented offhandedly, turning to face the voices and looking completely bewildered when he found no one there. Vio and the other Heroes froze in place, eyes wide in a deer-in-the-headlights fashion. They all clamped their mouths shut, not even daring to breathe for fear of being caught again.

“Who are you talking to?” Zelda asked, looking at her friend like he had his shirt on inside out or something. Link scanned the room one more time, his gaze even resting on the spot where the ghostly Heroes and their companion were standing, then turned back to Zelda and shrugged. Sparky and the others let out a very muffled sigh of relief. They weren’t quite in the clear but at least he hadn’t seen them.

“I dunno. I thought I heard someone… stupid finals, I think my lack of sleep is catching up to me!” he said. Zelda chuckled, shaking her head and linking arms with her best friend.

“Come on, let’s go home. Your paper’s done right? I think you can probably afford a nap.” she said, gently tugging Link along.

Once the two friends had completely exited the room, Sparky let out a groan, dramatically slumping against the wall.

“Ugh, that was close! That’s what I was afraid of… he hears us sometimes when we talk too much around him. He hasn’t seen us yet, and it doesn’t happen often enough for him to really think anything of it, but, yikes!”

“Anyway… uh, well there’s still a lot of cool places to see in New Hyrule! We could go to one of the Temples, although now that I think about it the Ocean Temple might be a bit hard to get to because that over-water section of the Spirit Tracks is hardly ever used anymore, and literally no one uses the underwater section. Probably because the Spirit Train’s the only train that can go there without flooding, I guess, and of course people don’t just drive around the Spirit Train.” Sparky rambled, unaware that he was going off on a tangent about trains again. Vio politely cut him off with a touch to his arm, and turned to address the Repairman.

“How about we head back to the train station and pass through that reconstruction of Ancient Whittleton they have? I think that would be neat to see, and it’s in a different direction than Link and Zelda are going if they’re heading home now, so we won’t have any more mishaps.” he chuckled, rubbing his arm a little in embarrassment.

“Haha, don’t beat yourself up, Vio, it’s ok! Plus, you’ve got nothing on Wind and Time’s record… I think between the two of them they’ve practically had a full hour long conversation with the kid by now!”

“Oh, yeah, thank y—”

And then the Repairman realized that wasn’t the ghosts talking. He turned to see the current Link looking right at them. He froze just as the ghosts did.

He sighed in relief as Link failed to spot the group.

“Yeah,” he remarked, “good thing he didn’t look down.”

He doubted very much that a living hero in a video game universe would be too keen on seeing a blob in his school.

“Uh, sure,” the Repairman replied, “Whittleton sounds good.”

He still wasn’t fond of being in any aquatic temple. Not with a liquid body.

“Also, you’d be surprised how often ghosts almost get caught like that.”