“Alright then…?”

He set the Repairman back onto his desk, this time quite far from any edge. He had treads, yes, but he did have some hydraulics holding him up. So he emptied them back into their containers inside his undercarriage, his gear-like ‘belt’ making contact with the top and a small “poomf” sound effect had been played. Well, probably.

“So what’s the scoop?”

The inkblot was sweating somewhat. Well, no turning back now.

“You know how you said it was like a game…?” he began, quavering. This was killing him to say.

“Well, you’re…not wrong.”

Another crack in the Wall appeared in the office, and the Repairman winced.

Eight have entered the waters…

“Seems like a long way’s ‘way from ‘ere,” the shark mused, glancing east. “Ye sure ye’ll be ‘lright by yerself, mate? I mean, with yer suit and everythin’?” Bruce asked, an expression of concern spreading across his scarred face, and head tilting to the side in genuine worry.

The Repairman had his oar halfway in the water when the shark pointed out his suit was still ruined.

The inkblot almost forgot about that thing. He might be able to salvage it, or at least parts of it. He fished it out with the oar, and plopped it near the walls of the raft.

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” he grunted as he did this. “It’s not that far. Should get there in about ten minutes, weather and tides permitting.

"Besides,” he shrugged, “I won’t be rowing the whole way.”

The cog seemed unfazed when the creature gently splatted against his hand and reshaped immediately: he’d run over other toons before. Hey! He can’t see everything in front of him! Don’t just STAND IN FRONT OF A MOVING PIECE OF MACHINERY, THAT’S DANGEROUS.

“Started noticing? Hah, I don’t actually remember! Probably because it was so long ago. Either way, I’m pretty used to it, as unsettling and creepy as it is. I guess it’s no different than that one really quiet part of night.”

Okay, maybe it would help this character if he knew. The Repairman took a deep breath; he’d be lying if he said he was looking forward to doing this.

“Um,” the Repairman began, tentatively, “I…might know why that seems to happen…”

The Repairman gulped, looking around.

“…You may want to…” he continued, before seeing the VP’s lower half, “sit down?”

Apparently, the Vice President had treads. The Repairman hoped the phrase still had meaning.

Eight have entered the waters…

“So not every minute?” the shark asked, a bit of relief in his voice. “Oh, well that’s good to know! It’d be awful nosy for someone to constantly watch me without m’ permission and all,” Bruce answered, eyeing the boat. “So where’re you off to, now, mate?”

The Repairman nodded, half in agreement. For him, however, it wasn’t so much nosiness he was concerned about. The Repairman wasn’t a performing Toon (save his blog), but he imagined it would be exhausting to have to entertain 24/7.

Upon hearing Bruce’s second question, the inkblot looked around uncertainly.

“Well, my siren light’s not up,” he started, tentatively, “so I don’t really have to go–”

Of course that would be when that stupid red thing sprang up. The Repairman sighed, pulling a single oar out of the raft.

“…Looks like I’ll have to go…” he started again, turning around, “that way.”

He squinted. “I think I’m headed to Free Country, USA.”

Eight have entered the waters…

“What, b’sides everythin’ I knew ‘bout the reality bein’ suddenly shattered all at once?” the shark chuckled. “I think I’ll get over it. Though, I’m still a lil’ wary ‘f the whole humans-watchin’-me-without-my-permission sort ‘f thing. But I guess that can’t really be helped at the moment.” All he could do was make sure no paranoid thoughts crept in, or just go about his day like nothing happened.

The Repairman half-heartedly laughed with the shark. He didn’t believe it was going to be that easy, but it wasn’t his place. The humans watching, on the other hand…

“Eh, don’t worry, it’s not like it’s constant monitoring. Besides, they can’t really do much. Even if they don’t like you, the worst they can do is hope the odds are against you, or simply leave.”

He looked at the shark in good humor. “I’m sure you won’t have that problem.”

He thought it best to leave “writers” and “artists” for another time. Bruce probably needed a while to get used to Tooniness.

You haven’t slept for days, have you?

ican-giveyoustars:

“Is it that obvious?”

The Repairman nodded. Anyone could tell by the rabbit’s posture and manner of walking that he was not only awake for a long time, but also that he was very much not used to it.

It really wasn’t his business. He was just passing by. He had places to be, a Fourth Wall to fix…

He pulled his push-cart over and went over to the other Toon.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“If there was some way I could get a break from this I certainly would, pcht. Sometimes there’s times when there are no toons around at all, anywhere, but not a cog is doing anything either, we all just…. idle? Then when toons seem to come right back they go right back to do whatever they were doing, maybe something new happening or something. It’s almost reminiscent of what being updated feels like except it’s the entire world around me.”

He watched the blobbish creature fall off the side of his desk and immediately put out a hand to catch him. Certainly he wouldn’t wish his own experiences on others.

“Oof!”

The Repairman landed on the VP’s hand. He seemed to splat for a brief moment, then he bounced back up into his normal form.

“Heh, thanks,” he said, rubbing a hand behind his head. Thankfully, the robot’s hand, despite being a little cold, was big enough to hold him.

He would never admit it, but the Repairman knew perfectly well how bad he was at keeping the Fourth Wall secret. Especially when the people he talked to seemed to be getting increasingly aware of the worlds around them.

Maybe if the Repairman tried to break it gently…

“Huh…” the Repairman replied, innocently, “When’d you start noticing that?”

Eight have entered the waters…

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?”

“I’ve been practicing,” said the Narrator glumly. “Oh, how I’ve been practicing – 3-D modeling, programming, map design… all the technical knick-knacks and fancies I had to learn in order to present my story! I had thought to myself that maybe, if the chance presented itself, I would be able to create another story, this time using a technical finesse even greater than that of The Stanley Parable. But, right now, I’m just lounging about in the abandoned remains of my first foray into the world of video-gaming…”

His voice trailed off as he surveyed the office area around him.

Even with his self-imposed limitation, the Toon couldn’t have said he knew how that felt. After all, his job was never-ending, as far as he was concerned. With places like this, he’d always be busy. Besides, he was no storywriter, or video game programmer, just a Repairman.

A Repairman who was pulling out a tape recorder. It was in decent condition, and the tape in it was labeled “Video Game Tropes.”

He held it out, one of his hands over the record button, and asked aloud, “Would it help if we looked at those tropes now?”

He tried his best to ignore what he just caused. With all the other breaks in this area, that wasn’t too hard.

“Oh, it’s because I’m the Sellbot Boss, and also because as a result of taking over toon buildings we kind of? Put the shopowners in a cage? And keep it in my tower office? And have it there even during Promotion? I don’t know, that’s just weird and I didn’t really even suggest it but I guess that’s what happens. Then I have all the fun damages to be repaired and placed back up there, hoo hoo. Been this way for twelve whole years as of December 19th, 2003!”

He let out a sigh, his head spinning to its frowning face, although his expression changed from one of anger to one of glumness.

The Repairman merely listened, his eyes widening in unpleasant surprise. This boss didn’t just rematerialize back on top of the Tower? Kidnapping was a regular thing? For twelve years?

The Repairman was at a loss. It didn’t seem best to tell the VP that his subordinates come back, given the giant cog’s own experiences. It would be worse still to tell him it was part of a video game. And he couldn’t really say anything about the endless war; he hadn’t seen it.

All he could think of to say was, as calmly as he could, “It’s not your fault.”

With that, he extended an arm out towards the Vice President, in what he hoped was a kind enough manner.

And then lost his balance and fell off the desk with a “WAUGH!”