Wally's Questionnaire

I must have lived here before. Before I was like this, that is. I recognize things sometimes, when I'm out. Stuff like the lights, the smells. I feel like I've been to some of the places Doug and I go, I just can't figure out how.

Doug's place is small and smelly but he's smart. I can get around easy while he's not looking. More on him later.

The trickiest part is doors. The ones with the circle knobs on em. They are the worst, impossible to open. Honestly a safety hazard. What if they're slippery or you don't have thumbs. I don't have thumbs. One thing for sure right now I can't eat anymore of this god awful dogfood.

It might sound crazy, but money isn't really my highest concern right now? Like I know money is awesome. I get like, mouth watery when I think about it, which is weird, money isn't food, but like, immediate future? Not my problem. Doug has good insurance so like, he's not hurting either. So everything's good right?

Still though money makes me happy. Which I guess is normal, but like REALLY happy, my butt wags and I drool a bit, which even for money people is uh... weird. Maybe I was like rich or something. Before. Not now. I barely have pockets.

I don't think I'm a dog. I am a dog like physically at the moment, but I can tell this isn't normal. Like normal dogs don't get stuff like I get stuff. Doug noticed, neigbors noticed, cute baristas. The whole deal, like I'm not a dog. See the thing is when I think about it I get really mad. I'm starting to remember stuff, stuff from when I was a person, like a grown ass man, taxes. (Maybe not taxes). I think someone did this to me, and I can't get the thought out of my head.

I HATE being like this. I want thumbs. I want to eat a sandwich. I can't fucking stand DOORS. GOD.

Whoever did this to me has it coming. And I'm going to bite their fucking face off when I find them.

OK clearly, you haven't been on the same page here, so I'll reiterate:

I'M NOT A DOG.

Someone did this to me, I can't remember who, but I'm sure I didn't deserve it. I probably didn't deserve it, did I? If I did, then this is still waaaay too far. Like what could I have done that you couldn't just like stick me in a jail cell or pay a fine or something? Like I swear I'll treat dogs better after I'm back again.

If I could talk, I could tell people. They'd help me! Doug would help me! But it's getting clearer every day. I was a man once. I don't know how the hell this happened but I can't really do anything about it until I can remember. Until I can... get better.

Doug Miller

Doug is good people. He's got like pots. or something. It makes him go all light headed when he stands up. I can smell it so I help him out. He scoped me as a free guide dog and got all the papers done. I was lost as hell though, so I'm not exactly sure how we met. Just smelled he was about to eat dirt and helped. He's good people.

The following wally cannot remember:

Leonard wilson

Pit boss at the MGM casino. Leonard has a particular distaste and admiration for Wally, but won't let on more than what he can use to manipulate Wally. Knowing a conman has it's perks, and having dirt on one gives Leonard the means to use Wally as a lackey at best.

Meredith Gildsen
A wealthy trust fund kid and one of Wally's marks. She wonders where he has gone, and has been looking for him ever since he went missing. Unknowingly a victim of one of Wally's scams in the early stages.

Ok I don't think I've oversaid it or anything but i'm having trouble remembering... some stuff about my past, I remember some vague stuff. uh, my dad was a cop! and my mom was uh, not working, so she would stay at home with me. I wanted to make them proud but I don't think I did, I think I was a rebel or something? I got into trouble. My dad wasn't proud, not ever but that's ok, I don't like him. I remember that much.

School though, I was good at school! I was smart! I think. Or popular. Probably both. School I didn't really finish. I was too smart. I was too busy doing work anyway, you can get a lot done when you aren't stuck in a desk all day. I could convince people to do stuff! Or do favors. Or sell stuff. I mean there's a lot of stuff to do for folks that can't do it themselves right? Everyone needed an extra pair of hands... I'm remembering things! ok cool I was smart, and a gifted kid and...

I'm sure a lot of people have loved me? I mean besides being a super cute fuzzy dog that can do any trick ever (if bacon is involved). If I want, I mean. My mom loved me though, I remember that. She was my biggest fan. I remember she would get in the way if dad was mad. I remember being hit. A lot. He had bad days. But my mom would get in the way. She loved me for sure.

At school though I loved some girls, and after too, it was so easy, people just liked me I think... But I can't remember their faces. Their eyes or their hair, it's like they're all blended together into one blur. My head hurts. I don't remember why there's so many, or maybe there isn't, were they even real? I remember breaking some peoples hearts, it... hurts to think about. Can we talk about something else?

Being like this is scary enough, people treat you like a particular stupid child and then want to also pet you. Like that's demeaning, if it's in the wrong spot. A good scratch though is heaven, there are a few spots a dog body can't really reach. That's not the scary part, the itches. No the scary bit is I think I'm getting dumber. Like maybe i'm in the eye of a storm of being stupid, and not being stupid, and I'm about to get a lot dumber, like full dog dumb, and never be able to come back.

What if there's a time limit on this thing, if I don't figure out how to be human again, do I just become a dumb dog? Will I die like a dog? How long to dogs live anyway, like 13 years? I hadn't thought of that, I need to do something to make sure i'm not an old decrepit dog that dies at 13. How old am I now anyway? I wasn't like super young as a human, am I gonna die sooner cause I was old? SHIT.

I can't reach the mirror so good, I uh.... Ok one thing at a time, first the Gifts can stop the Dog aging probably, right? Maybe I have a little time, if the Jobs don't kill me first.

Like Dog ones? Ok Gary is pretty smart, he works on computer stuff. But the smart part is he's got all the dog stuff. He says 'You take care of me, I'ma take care of you.' He knows I'm smart too, so I get to pick my stuff. Stuff to chew on, stuff to smell, stuff to rub against, the biggest FLUFFIEST bed I want. I'm living like a little dog king. I also trained him to put a towel on stuff so I can open it, so doors aren't a problem. I even use the toilet. Best dog he's ever had.

When he's busy I watch TV. He's got a big one in the living room and I get the couch. Catching up on my shows is the best. Don't even have to leave except for when it's work time and Gary's gotta go outside, which is terrible, this city is hot as hell. Anyway, favorite thing, uhhh....

Besides the dog thing? Cause by now I'm hoping you know about the dog thing. I've got A LOT of new problems since the Harbinger thing. I've failed TWO jobs. TWO OUT OF THREE. But they keep sending me invites for new ones. One problem is I never know how I'm going to get to the jobs. I can't really drive there, but they sometimes send tickets or stuff like that. And this last one, I had to find my way back home FROM SCOTLAND.

So yeah peachy. Juuuuuust peachy. If that part wasn't enough, I've kinda got a new problem, my memory problems were intentional, someone did this to me, just like I thought. I came clean to Gary and he's pissed. He threw my only chance at figuring out more about who I am and now I have to figure out how to keep Otis off the streets. Sorry, Ollie, who apparently I knew, but I'm beginning to think isn't so trustworthy.

Yeah so anyway my biggest issue is I can't talk. I've gotta ace this next job.

Perks of being a dog is you don't have too much of a skincare routine. To be honest though, no one mentioned how dirty fur gets. Like dogs lick themselves but I can't do it. So I do showers sometimes, which is also awful because fur is HEAVY. Like you get it full of water and I'm an extra 10 pounds or something. And then there's the fur in the drain which Gary also hates.

Right, morning routine. I steal some breakfast, or *shudder* eat dog food, and watch some TV. There's a lot of stuff online that's real helpful with the contracting stuff too. Mostly conspiracy theories I think. But it's hard to tell. I've been searching a lot about making dog lives easier and supernatural animals. Mostly to ease Gary into it, but that's totally shot now. So these days I'm lurking around the house. Gary's still too mad to talk. If I could afford my own place I would.

...Wait. Ollie said I was a con man... I've got to remember if I have money somewhere.

I'm starting to think you're not listening here. I've got one look, this one, dog, brown and black. I've got no pants. I don't even have fucking socks. Sorry, sorry, it's just frustrating. Here in Nevada, less is more. It's hot and dry, and I'm packing a fur coat. If I lived somewhere else maybe I'd wear little funny booties, or maybe a jacket, with little pockets that'd be nice. You have no idea what you're missing when you don't have manageable pockets.

If I was HUMAN SHAPED, I'd probably wear a nice suit. Not like that orange guy that came to the house. Kitschy that one, bright orange? No something a little bit better fit, better colors. Maybe nice an cool for the weather. And maybe I'd move to somewhere that isn't a flaming desert half the year. if the air conditioning goes out I'm going to die.

Gotta make a note to buy some booties though, my feet hurt.

OK this one I can actually answer. I want a biiiiig juicy steak. You have NO IDEA the amount of flavor you get as a dog. Flavor is MOSTLY smell. And I can smell really good. I always wondered why dogs basically charge head first into places, but if you could smell how I smell, you'd probably do it too. So yeah, lets go with steak, but beyond that I'd REALLY like to not have to go on a job. At this rate though, they'd probably call me WHILE I was cooking. Which I can do, perks.

For a good birthday I think id like some drugs? I have a feeling I did some drugs. I'm curious what kind of effects a bump would have on a dog. Probably not a good idea to test that out, but still. Curious.

Ok the answer to this one is actually what I'm after. If I was a con man, how big of a con did I have to do to deserve this? Was I a good con man? I'm starting to remember stuff but only when I think about a very specific question. Basic cons sound pretty easy, provided you're good looking and in the right place at the right time. But whatever I had to do to get the fun dog suit seems like another league entirely.

I think it must have been for someone really important. Or against someone really important. Not the usual money stuff. I'm talking big Mojo stuff. Someone with a lot of juice to throw around, and not a lot of leeway for failure. But why wouldn't they just kill me? That would have been so much easier. What did I know that they needed to keep me alive for. Or was I important, did I have leverage? Whatever it was, it must have been big.

Right now the biggest thing I regret is not knowing.

Weird thing so far is that the only one i've got is kinda... helping me be normal. I don't have hands and stuff, so now I can pick stuff up with my mind. I can move it around, even myself sometimes if I go slow enough. I didn't ask for that, it just kinda came as a perk. That's what I'm calling em'. Perks of the Job. I think if I get more I can shape them the way I want. I kinda remember selling some artifacts. That's what they call em, artifacts, that one I actually remember. I could even make some, I think. That's what Otis would sell. So if I can remember how to make them again... maybe I can make some that will help me out of this current predicament.

First order of business, I've gotta be able to get around easier, and talk, I think talk first, the other parts will come with the territory. Come to think of it, I could use a driver...

Like do I have a religion? No, kinda busy not being delusional. At least I think. I get why people do it. There's a lot of confusing stuff out there, you want to have all the answers right? Easy pick. Get a community of people that believe all the same stuff, and let someone tell you all the rules. Security and such.

I'm seeing a lot of WEIRD stuff lately. I know there's more stuff out there. More and more, I'm thinking there aren't just one set of right answers. There was like a melon god moon. SO I'm not really going to rule stuff out. For me I'm gonna try and focus on my stuff, what I can do about stuff. And I know there's a lower g god out there with some comeuppance do, courtesy of me, the fucker you fucked with, so I guess when I get there I'll ask them about all of our place in the universe.

Yeah so I've had to do a lot of violence stuff, which is really not my bag, I'm a bit more of a coward, plans type guy, you know? I'd rather not be where the fight is. I'm really lucky. Like REALLY lucky on how stuff has turned out. I still got nightmares about that crazy cryptid girl. Yes, I'm having a bad time. No, I'm not gonna stop. I've gotta deal with this stuff, so i'm shoving it in the mind box and trying not to think about the folks who didn't make it. Thanks so much for bringing it up.

I feel like before, I knew about some supernatural stuff. I stole stuff. Or dealt with weird folks for magic beans or something. So I don't know what's true. Like I said, The whole 'all the answers' things is for idiots. We don't know what's out there. The contracts I've been doing? Yeah those are the proof.

OK might not be really nice but some of the folks I've met on the contracts? I don't think they've read the contract. Like it was REAL clear on how dangerous this stuff is. And what perks you can get in exchange for not being a moron. This is serious. You're out here doing life risking stuff to appease the whims of these weird harbingers for superpowers. Like there's no specific reason for these jobs that I've been able to figure out. Or remember anyway. The stuff we do could be anything! You've gotta be flexible, and I don't even have hands and stuff so I'm stuck being the idea dog.

As long as folks listen and don't do dumb stuff, really THINK about what's going on around them, I have a much better time. Some of the contractors I've met have had some good ideas, and even some great skills or powers that really got us out of trouble. Those ones I like. But for real though, I'm starting to think that common sense isn't so common. This stuff is really scary, and I'm gonna need to start making friends if I wanna survive.

What? I mean... like a perfect room geometrically? No, ok perfect room, I'm gonna say for my own use, I'd like it to be dark and comfy and probably have more than one exit. Also en-suite bathroom, it's weird enough sharing a bathroom with Gary without him walking in while I'm doing my business. Which is hard for a dog on a people shaped toilet.

Other than that I'd like to have some nice lighting, not to bright, keep it low key. And I'd like some ramps. Jumping on everything because it's too tall is probably why dogs die young. Seriously. Steps or ramps to chairs and stuff would be ideal. Get me a computer with voice to text. Some comfy spots and a biiiiig screen TV. Also snacks. Maybe a little fridge. And lots of locks on stuff. Why do I want locks? I think maybe the human bit of me was a bit... cautious. We'll say that.

I *Was* a conman. And I'm told I was good. I'd like to get back to that sort of thing maybe. Maybe not. Maybe contracting is all I've got now. And I'm not very good at that either.

Maybe I need to think differently. Be more ruthless or something. I don't know, some of these jobs are just cruel. But I've met some good friends, trauma bonding and all that. They're good Doctors, investigators, hitters. I could get good at that stuff right? Maybe I should reach out to the ones that tried to help me. Or the ones from brunch. Get some jobs set up. There's got to be someone who needs what I've got. Which is talking. a lot. Do they have powers to make it so people take me seriously even though I'm all dog.

I've got to be good at something here... If I could just remember.

I'm not usually the guy to draw lines. I mean I was basically just a fancy criminal before right? But it was all white collar. No one had to die. Well from me anyway, I wasn't *that* guy. I didn't do the knee breaking. I did smuggling and confidence stuff. The paperwork type of crime.

Yeah, short version I don't wanna get my hands dirty. People don't deserve to die about stuff, and I hope folks aren't about doing that to me, even if I'm causing them some problems. I guess that's my line. I don't wanna do murders. I don't think I even can... dog body and all. But if it's me or them... I don't wanna think about that sort of stuff, but each job is getting worse. Being honest I'm failing more jobs than I'm finishing. I don't think doing more murders is the answer, necessarily but I can't help but wonder. Am I cut out for this stuff?