Doing a complete front disc brake job on an old Pontiac.Had my ole shop sweepr 80yo neighbor came in to help me bleed the brakes.He's a big-o fella with paws the size of a grizzly bear and can barely hear. Ok,so here i am setting on my roller seat at the FR and asking Dean-O to pump'em up,then hold.Got thru bleeding air out and i hand spun the disc to see if it stopped when Dean hit the pedal. Ok one more time...I gave'er a good spin,except i hung on a little too long and got a couple fingers stuck up under the disc pads.Then i hear Dean holler..."Did you say pump-em"???? NO....NOOOOOOOO hell NO get OUT! So here he comes and see my fingers smashed in the caliper.He bends down and goes to grab the rotor and says,here i will help you.I had to fight him off one handed to keep his big paws off that rotor because i just KNEW he was going to give it a big YANK the wrong direction and drive two or three more up in there.To sum it up,I had a long flat screwdriver i jammed into the rotor fins and backed it off.THANK GOD he didn't smash that brake pedal.The fingers looked like they had been in a hamburger press,split open,but they healed up.