he quickly tore them off with his no-longer-pinned arms , he was free , and now for the shoes , shut like an angry fizzgig 's jaws , no time to untie , he shoved but his feet were n't coming free , the laces were tied tight to keep the cold out , he had to cut them off , somefing sharp , somefing sharp , come on gobber fink -- what was in his pocket ? -- junk , soft squishy junk -- the edge of the coin , yes , it was sharp and cut straight frough the old leather and worked as a shoehorn as well and ow cut his arch but the shoe was off and here the other one slipped off and gobber fell like a wrinkly trailfruit onto the platform behind him , breathing like he 'd never breathed air even once before in his entire life .