Let's see. So far we have Kenugli in his own words declaring himself :

A graduate of http://www.rpi.edu/ , where everyone else went off to
become engineers in nanotechnology but Ken stayed behind and works as
a car cleaner in a Russian-owned used-vehicle lot.

Growing up in Canada, Florida, Maryland, Rhode Island and Missouri
with a father who worked as a Defense contractor and a mother who
apparently died of starvation.

A veteran of the Persian Gulf, (where he said he swam in snake-
infested waters but his watch ran perfectly).

A veteran of Vietnam.

A veteran of another mysterious Middle Eastern scenario.

A veteran of Secret Sqwirrlzz, the ones who run the innermost sanctum
at the Pentagon.

Best friends with not one but two United States Senators.

Best friends with the commander of the deepest darkest moley group in
US Intel.

Called in to de-brief at the Pentagon during September 11.

Currently employed as a top-ranking Systems Analyst for more Secret
Agent Man responsibilities.

Former "Federal" Marshall, protecting Mafia witnesses.

Drives an old beater Merc with spaz plates.

Weighs two hundred and ninety fucking pounds.

Has a criminal record which throws his whole fantasy life into, ahem,
suspicion.

Says he's married to Sarah Sara Czepiel, who conveniently keeps her
doofus husband's name and sometimes says she has one son, sometimes
three. Only one has ever been enrolled in school, so maybe the other
two are chained to the doghouse out back, who knows.... but we do know
the poor girl has enormous red and blistery arms and swollen hands
covered in pawn shop watches. He doesn't even wear a wedding ring.

Dresses up in military surplus clothing, complete with Missouri White
Trash hat, signaling to a world that doesn't care that he's lost in a
moment in time 35 years ago when he was an anonymous dumb-fuck
enlisted personnel of no merit or respect.

He's irredeemably fixed in hopeless debt, from which there is no
escape other than to declare bankruptcy, file a homestead act to keep
his house and thank God Almighty for the fact creditors cannot garnish
a disability check, no matter how suspicious his claim to it.

The only fun one has to look forward to is the slow diabetic
disintegration of his feet and legs, digit by digit, section by
section, ankle by knee, until that car plate he weasels is a real
fact. Ken's old Merc will hold a rusty wheelchair just fine.

I still want to know if Bill is aware of any of this.