The gentle sound of humming fills the dimly lit halls of a random building on the Straight and Narrow st., dying bulbs flickering in the hall as a familiar face makes their way up the stares and opens the door marked with The Freelance Police.

Inside of the eccentrically decorated office sits two desks, a bunch of random "keepsakes," a monster-infested file cabinet, and the familiar form of a brown dog in a grey suit, focused on filling out papers. Though as the door opened, Sam craned his head up, his humming coming to a stop. "Hm? Oh, hello there! What'dya need, buddy?"