Malcolm glances towards the door, then looks at Doc.

"I wonder if a mask would help. I mean, if there are any in here for, like, woodworking or drywall, I wonder if they'd help with this... Fog Lite we have going on."

He positions the drill again, carefully, the tip of his tongue just peeking out between his lips as he pulls the trigger.

That goes better, in that he unscrews the screw, but when it comes free, he stumbles back a step and the screw falls down behind the shelf.

"...Oops."