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dennis.

How well do you really know your drug dealer? Is that slurring reprobate you pull aside at the bar to ask for advice on where to score as innocuous as he seems?

If the greasy-haired, bloodshot-eyed teen you whisper to happens to be Dennis?

the answer is not at all.

Your boy's a lot older than he looks. Old enough that his true name has been lost to time, though his millennia-long rampage of debauched atrocity has been attributed to many different mythic characters through the ages. For thousands of years, he hoarded power that he wielded with all the callousness, sadism, and caprice of an infant god.

Until he allowed himself to be bound with a curse, by someone pure and just and dumb enough to weasel their way into whatever remained of his unbeating heart.

that was 50 years ago.

Has going cold turkey on torture changed Dennis? Definitely. Has the simple life mellowed him? Absolutely. Mostly, though, it's the drugs. These days, you can usually find him bussing tables in a narcotic stupor at C'est la fin du monde, a bar in San Francisco that services an eclectic and esoteric clientele.

He's also known as the premiere source of illicit recreational and ritual substances this side of R'lyeh. ■