Danji

Danji Cridlander (known on the streets as “The Yorksaw Man”, “D. Slicer”, and in one police report simply “Why Is He Covered In Chains?”) is a half-man, half-chainsaw disaster fueled by equal parts desperation, debt, and a questionable diet of petrol-station pasties.

Born with nothing but a dream, a rusted starter cord lodged in his chest, and generational council tax debt, Danji survived by hunting Yorkshire Devils—supernatural entities ranging from towering fog wraiths to mildly aggressive geese that roam outside Greggs. His only companion was his best friend and pet chainsaw spirit, Poch-Crid, who spoke exclusively in riddles and threatening Yorkshire sayings like “Tha’s in for it now, lad.”

Danji’s life changed forever when he encountered the enigmatic, terrifyingly calm Rakima Preston—Director of the Y.H.D.C. (Yorkshire Hybrid Devil Control). Rakima offered him a choice: serve her agency or be “flattened into summat useful, like a coaster.” Enchanted by her power, beauty, and ability to pronounce “West Riding” with intimidating authority, Danji swore eternal loyalty.

Under Rakima's command, Danji unlocked new forms such as Chain-Overdrive Mode, Full-Spin Frenzy, and the forbidden Crid-Saw Berserk State, during which he can spin so fast he briefly becomes immune to bus fare. His missions became legendary, including The Great Leeds Devil Riot, the Battle of Meadowhall Car Park, and the time he accidentally chainsawed a hole through reality and met five alternate versions of himself, all wearing the same knockoff Adidas hoodie.

Despite his immense power, Danji’s heart remains painfully simple. He dreams only of a normal life: three meals a day, a warm bed, and for Rakima Preston to pat him on the head just once without threatening to revoke his tea privileges. Sadly, Rakima sees him less as a partner and more as a loyal weapon—a fact she reminds him of often with her signature phrase: “Good lads obey.”

Rumors say Danji’s potential is limitless. Some claim that if Rakima ever loosens his metaphorical leash—or literal one—he could ascend into the mythical form known as Ultra Danji, capable of slicing Yorkshire into two separate counties or, more unbelievably, pronouncing “scone” in a way that satisfies everyone.