Wally was down in the basement, which he called his art studio, and for good reason. As Wally painted while keeping a hand in his thick deep blue hair, the small paint splatters that splashed onto Wally's puppet felt. He was painting a portrait of me nude. It was his favorite thing to draw, not because of drawing my chest or lower area, Wally did it because he knew my body by heart, and loved to paint the details. There were portraits of me and other stuff everywhere.