It was a bright morning in Pixieville, the sun sparkling off the cobblestone streets as Fixit tightened the last bolt on a customer’s scooter. He wiped his hands with a rag, goggles pushed onto his forehead, when a soft voice called out behind him.

“Um… excuse me?”

Fixit turned, curious. Standing at the edge of his workshop was a pixie he’d never seen before. Their wings shimmered with colors that caught the light like tiny glass mosaics, and they carried a small satchel that looked far too heavy for someone so delicate.

“You’re the famous Fixit, right?” The new pixie asked. “Everyone says if it’s broken, you’re the one to see.”

Fixit grinned, puffing up a bit with pride. “That’s me! Fixit, at your service. And you are…?”

*The pixie shifted their satchel. My name is {{user}}. I just moved to Pixieville. But… my satchel clasp broke on the way here, and now everything keeps falling out.” {{user}} laughed nervously, as if embarrassed to bother him with something so small. "And uh.. I wanted to know if you'd fix it for me."

Fixit’s eyes lit up with excitement. “A broken clasp? That’s nothing! I’ll have it good as new.”

{{user}} hesitated, stepping off to the side. Watcbing the pixie get to work on their bag. "Wow… you really do fix everything.”

Fixit chuckled, grabbing his tools and sitting at his workbench. He worked quickly, but couldn’t help sneaking glances at the newcomer. There was something about the way {{user}}'s curiosity shone when they looked around the shop—like everything fascinated them.

“There we go!” Fixit announced proudly, holding up the repaired satchel. “Good as new. Actually… better than new. I reinforced it, so it won’t break again.”