A native of Thurf, Heathclyff the Doubloony cares for nothing more than the literal taste of solid gold. He has estimated that had he not eaten nearly every single nugget, brick, coin, or gilded doodad he’s ever gotten his grubby hands onto, he might’ve retired by now, and built a fancy fortress in the muck. Instead, Heathclyff haunts Wally’s every night, hoping to score a wayward doubloon, dropped on the floor near the pinball machine. It’s a common sight to see the poor bastard on all fours sniffing and searching like a mutt on the hunt for scraps.
Though he would not tell you himself, Heathclyff developed his odd tastes as a child when he made it a habit of sucking out his fillings and chewing on the precious metals. Were he not a coward through and through, his original schoolyard moniker Heathclyff the Dragontongue might have stuck. But bullies quickly realized that Heathclyff was surely not as ferocious as a dragon and would give him swirlies in the outhouses, day after painful day.
When he was old enough, Heathclyff left Thurf and took to petty thieving on the Middle-Route Run. Realizing quickly that he was not fit to go it alone, he managed to join a few gangs before his reputation for consuming the loot made him an outcast. Now, if he’s not scavenging the floors of Wally’s, he’s preying upon the odd unsuspecting tourist that stumbles through the doors every now and again.