Dennis from Moline

He's the up-and-coming young broker who runs more crews and more 'Crashes for more Sponsors, including the infamous Stinko Yusarian, than any other game in town. He's the guy who's going to put the Fiddler out of business, one way or another. He's the guy with no last name, because he's just too off-the-grid to be tracked. He buys ten thousand-dollar suits and drives a car more expensive than the building you live in. He's the bright, fresh face of Third Millennium damnation-extraction. He was voted 'Most Likely to Re-Run Helen of Troy' by the informal New Devil's Easter conclave in Peoria last year - partially because the kid has such big plans, and partially just to satisfy his own insufferable, megalomaniacal Faust fetish.

Of course, the crowd at the roach-infested Denny's then started joking, at length, about whether Dennis would even know what to do with a woman. They all laughed pretty hard about it. Because for all the exploits attributed to Dennis, there's not one that involves a girl.

Now: if even half the other self-spread rumors about Dennis from Moline (Last Name Unknown), are true, or at least stripped-down for parts, then this asshole apparently thinks that he's the Jerry Maguire of 'Crashing. Those few 'Crashers with an appreciation of film have compared him to the kid from 'In Good Company'; Abraxians just call him a sniveling little speed-bump about to get stomped dead if he isn't careful, and accordingly Dennis steps lightly around mention of their name. Then again, they haven't moved against him yet, either. At least, not that people know about.

A buttoned-down, self-important little shit from the Quad Cities barely old enough to shave, the really annoying thing for people who hate him (and there are plenty) is that Dennis from Moline is a very capable young man with a long string of good luck, a bright-looking future and good business-savvy. The really dangerous thing for people that put their trust in him (and there are more every day) is that Dennis is in WAY over his head: he learned most of what he knows about financial acumen from the video game 'Wall Street Kid', and his various "areas of expertise" on the Nether are mostly cribbed from his pet Hell-Savant Matt Damon and some factoids purchased off of Azrael Scheiss for money that would guarantee reliability in anyone except a raving compulsive liar with no fear of pain … like, for example, the Angel of Shit & Death herself.

Plus, he burned a bridge with Legend Kligrapp by working with Stinko, and that's cut him off from a lot of good Damnation-Lore.

The fact is that Dennis from Moline, for all his talk, can't pay as well as the Fiddler. Or, at least, he doesn't. Most of the bank paid by Sponsors sticks with him. And his claims about "running more crashes" don't really hold up, either. He's great when working with a smithers, but crews keep dying on him. And people that DO work for Dennis are taking their lives in their hands: while he claims to research his 'Crashes better than "the old pedo," who will famously let dangerously ill-equipped teams handle a suicide-raid, the truth is that the false confidence that Dennis exudes can be more lethal than the Fiddler's carpe diem attitude.

But for all that, there are people lining up to work with Dennis from Moline. He lends the whole escapade an aura of respectability, with his big words and his his fancy car and his nice watch and sharp haircut.

Oh, and rumor has it that he wears an amulet under that Brooks Brothers shirt that will transfer wounds dealt to him back to the attacker's true love; the gunshot or knife-wound jumps out along a sympathetic connection to fuck up his assailant's whole life. The truth is that it can only "bend" one wound at a time, and the magic sends the damage streaking into a specially-prepared corpse, no less than a week old, with the item-wearer's semen inside it.

But it's been enough to deter a few assassins. Oh, and it's not the jewelry-encrusted amulet he wears under his shirt that does it. It's the always-bleeding, band-aid-coated iron spike set through his left nipple. But no shit, it works.

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