I don’t usually post figures in this scale since a) they photograph terribly with my awful camera and b) I’m not great as small-scale paint apps (ever wonder why all of my good figures are air-brushed?). However, this little guy is the exception. Skip to the end for recipe.
-----------------
Everyone always asks, Where is Waldo? But no one seems to understand the real question, the gravity of the man’s very existence. They miss the real questions. Who is Waldo? What is Waldo? Why is Waldo?

A crowd of people at a spaceport. In the middle is a man in his mid-thirties in an unassuming outfit- a striped undershirt, a hooded jacket, old jeans, an odd carry-on which could be easily missed in the rush of pre-boarding, a bag across his back holding some long object- another carry-on, no doubt. All of this probably breathing apparatus for Space-Scuba, nothing out of the ordinary. The only marker of his existence is a pom-pom on his hat, a relic of a lost age of cold weather that no longer exists on this heated sphere that is Earth, and even that seems designed to be missed. His glasses hide his eyes as they dart around looking for his gate.
He spots it and flashes his ticket for entrance to the blonde at the desk. No one notices that the man’s face on the screen isn’t the one that just gave them the ticket- in fact, she is his accomplice, and hands him a photo before he moves on. He thus walks onto the plane undetected and picks a seat. Takeoff begins, and soon they are in the air. The man stands and approaches the front restroom, but instead settles into an empty front-class seat, next to a man in yellow and black.
“Can I help you?” the yellow man asks.
The red man is silent and raises his glasses to reveal silver orbs with red centers where his eyes would otherwise have been. “Odlaw.”
The yellow man tenses up. “That’s… that’s not my name. I’m Wallace Delacruz. Wallace De…”
But Wallace Delacruz sees the Red Man’s silver case, and the green sparks issuing from it. He is quiet.
“Odlaw,” The red man repeats. “I have been sent by the Whitebeard corporation to eradicate you for crimes against the W.O.O.F. and humanity at large. I can see you’ve identified my Plasma cannon. I don’t intend to use it unless you make me.”
Wallace waits and thinks and n the end offers his hand.
“So you’re a Waldo,” he says. “I didn’t think Whitebeard could make them so human.”
“I am human. I am not a Waldo. I’m just… Waldo.”
Wallace smirks. “I wonder.”
And then he brings a pistol to his head and ends his own life. Waldo disappears into the crowd, as he always does, and the ship lands on the surface of Mars.
He is greeted by a woman in matching clothing.
“Wendy,” he states, “Am I human?”
Wendy looks longingly at the man she has been seeing intimately for five years now and sighs.
“Almost, Waldo,” she finally whispers. “Almost.”
“Let’s go.”

And with that they disappeared into the throngs of unsuspecting people who, without knowing it, watched as their silent hero stepped by.
--------------
RECIPE:
Really easy recipe… it’s just a resculpt and repaint. G.I. Joe Movie Stormshadow 4”. Sculpted/Sanded collar, hands, glasses, hair, hat. Rest are parts from the original figure. I almost feel bad at how easy it was but it’s still fun.

Comments and critique more than welcome.