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John "John-John" Johnson

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Well, I grew up in a small town called Gardona, maybe 700 pop. There I was a sort of Jack-of-All-Trades picking up any jobs anywhere I could, but never really worked one for too long. I did enough to keep bills paid and keep myself fed. Through all the jobs I've worked I gained a considerable tool belt of skills. Now, I'm a simple a man and was content with the way my life was going, but then everything changed when my cat tried to intentionally, and maliciously murder me by pushing me down the stairs of my two-story townhome. From what I'm told, the only thing I used to catch my fall was my head. My neighbor had found me after hearing all the commotion and getting no reply to the knocks at my door. Unfortunately, the hospital of my small town was not well equipped enough to deal with injuries as serious as mine, so they flew me out to the city, where I spent 2 months in a coma. When I finally woke up, I found myself in an entirely new place, with no money in pockets, no direction, and as some sort of cosmic joke, I got a few more fishies swimming around in the pond of my head. I never quite know when they my show up, but when they do, I'm told it's never a dull moment.

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