There are playwrights and minmakers who infuse their work with such truth and beauty that it brings tears to the eyes of the most jaded. Artists whose opera say something important about the nature of existence and are destined to be remembered and cherished for hundreds of years to come. Lerd Ammager is pretty much the opposite of that. Lerd Ammager writes and produces plays and more recently mins filled with nonsensical plots, unnatural dialogue, bizarre visual choices, and overall a general air of incompetence and incomprehensibility. There are those who seek out his creations for a laugh or just for the chance to witness something so infamously awful, but almost nobody sees them because they expect quality entertainment.

Still, somehow there are always at least two or three Ammager shows running somewhere in the Arts District. Where Ammager gets the money to put on so many productions is a bit of a mystery. Certainly his productions don't have the most lavish budgets, and yes they do attract some paying customers, if only out of morbid curiosity, but it doesn't seem they should be making enough money to cover the theater rentals, let alone pay for the cast and other production expenses. Either Ammiger is independently wealthy, he has a secret side job, or he has one or more hidden benefactors (perhaps people with odd senses of humor and more money than they know what to do with). Nobody has yet managed to determine which of these is the case.

Lerd Ammager is a short, hairy man with a perpetual five-o'-clock shadow. He has a blocky face with a large chin and a nose like crumpled paper. He has a slightly phlegmy voice somewhat deeper than one might expect from his stature, and has a tendency to repeat himself a lot. He is usually seen wearing shabby suits with patches of various clashing colors.