About
Derek C. F. Pegritz is a real person, contrary to popular (and his own) opinion. Born and raised in the mysterious wilds of southwestern Pennsylvania, Fayette County to be exact, Pegritz continues to live there to this day, in the ruins of an old coal patch called Lamberton. Don’t bother looking it up on Google Maps, though, because Lamberton—much like Dunwich and Innsmouth, Massachusetts—hasn’t existed on any maps in decades. He is occasionally seen in Pittsburgh, in the company of black-clad weirdos much like himself: know him by his backwards black leather golfcap or his Guiness baseball hat—and look for him primarily in coffeeshops, as he is far more the tea drinker than the beer drinker. Should you perchance catch him in a bar, however, ply him with Guiness and he will become extra voluble concerning topics both esoteric and resolutely mundane (hint: he loves gardening and his cat, so to avoid a two-hour lecture on quantum physics and megascale engineering, bring up orchids and/or catnip).
As the descendant of Croatian and Slovene miners who came to the United States in the early 1900s, Pegritz is proud to call himself a “patch hunky” born and bred He’s got that Croat Temper, though, so watch out should you rile his ire—which is, fortunately, very difficult to do. In fact, he’s a resolutely amiable sort (who, like others, has his Bad Days, thought few they be) who will gladly converse with you concerning anything from The Robotech Chronicles to the literary function of Lovecraft’s use of older men as narrative characters.
I killed Kenny.
