Work Text:
Wally didn't know when it'd started, but people knew him for certain things around the studio.
There isn't a single worker in Joey Drew Studios who didn't know about his catchphrase. Some would repeat it back to him. He'd say it every time he was leaving a room, quitting a conversation. It came out easily, like instinct!
"I'm outta here!"
He didn't even know when he started saying it. Every day, he'd tip his hat and say those three words.
Another thing people knew him for is that aforementioned hat. Beige with a dark blue brim and an uppercase B on it. He was almost always wearin' it. It was the one thing he never forgot! The one item he never lost!
By accidentally leavin' it somewhere, anyway.
Because someone, and he wasn't naming names (Thomas), kept findin' it infinitely amusin' to pluck it off his head and hold it out of reach.
Which is what he'd just done. Right here, right now, in front of another one of those damned pipes.
It wouldn't be that hard to get it back if it weren't for Thomas' damn height. Over six feet tall compared to Wally's measly 5'4. He was shorter than most of the men in the studio, sure, but that is ridiculous!
He huffed as he looked up at the hat thief, arms crossin' and his nose scrunchin' up a little in his annoyance.
Tom didn't seem to mind it, didn't think twice about his actions. He still held Wally's hat in his right hand, holdin' it out of reach.
"If you handle this thing right, I'll give it back."
"And if I blow the whole damn system?"
"I'll be keepin' it, shortass."
Wally knew that by the end of the day, even if he'd messed up, Tom would give his hat back. He cared about it too much for Tom to not do so. He's a jerk, but Wally's jerk, nonetheless.
Tom still drove a hard bargain, that's for sure. He didn't wanna go the whole day without it.
The gauge only said 42. 45 was important for somethin', wasn't it? He remembered nothin' about 42. He dug his brain for somethin' (unhook the safety switch? That didn't sound right), on what he should be doin', but nothin' popped into mind.
Dealin' with the pipe was a no go.
Unfortunately for Thomas, Wally is great at comin' up with solutions.
Not the planned ones, but ones that always worked.
He looked the mechanic over. The wheels in his head started turnin', and if he was in one of those cartoons the studio produced, there'd be a few exclamation marks right over his head. Maybe a light bulb.
"Can ya bend down for me?"
"What're you plannin'?"
"Ya never have any faith in me, do ya? My neck just hurts, and yer too tall!"
It wasn't exactly a lie.
Thomas sighed, bending down a bit.
Wally grabbed onto his suspenders and tugged.
Thomas stumbled, him not expectin' it bein' the only thing that let the plan work, and next thing he knew-
His head hit the floor with a thud and Thomas just barely managed to catch himself in time as to not crush him.
Thomas's eyes were wide for a second, and Wally took the moment of shock to slip out from under him.
And there his hat was, sittin' on the floor, just waitin' for him to grab it.
He did so, grabbin' it a mere second before an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled.
His back hit Thomas' chest.
"Was that really easier than handlin' a damn pipe?"
Wally laughed, placin' his hat down in his own lap as Thomas rested his head on top of his.
"Ya bet yer ass it was!"
The tired sigh he got did nothin' to stop his laughter.