Historians of the Internet bubble might remember Collins-Rector as a cofounder of the Digital Entertainment Network, an online video empire that was one of the most talked-about new media launches of its day, before its spectacular flameout. Accused of molesting numerous teenage boys who worked for him, the 48-year-old entrepreneur went on the lam to Europe. Apprehended 21 months later, he was extradited to the United States, where, after what seems a rather lackluster prosecution, he pled guilty to eight counts of luring teens across state lines for sex, and paid a small fine. Two years later, here he was, as the Sun put it, "swanning around Britain in a chauffeur-driven limo and surrounding himself with young boys."

PASTY MONSTER Collins-Rector strikes a pose for the Florida sex-offender registrySuch brazen behavior wouldn't surprise anyone who knew Collins-Rector back when DEN was riding high. In those heady days before the Internet bust, a Who's Who of gay Hollywood flocked to notorious all-night bashes at the "M&C estate," so named for Marc and his twentysomething cohort Chad Shackley. The pair, who met on an online bulletin board (remember those?) when Shackley was just 15, collaborated on a number of tech start-ups, including an early Internet service provider, Concentric Network Services. Flush with cash from their successful ventures, Collins-Rector (who had changed his name from the more pedestrian Rector) and his young colleague landed in Encino, California, where they took a special liking to a 4.2 million Spanish colonial McMansion that had previously belonged to Death Row Records rap impresario Suge Knight. Streams and waterfalls traced the carefully manicured 1.5-acre grounds, which housed a tennis court, an enormous gazebo, a swimming pool, aquariums, a home theater, and a hot tub built for 12. Among their new acquaintances in Los Angeles were such industry heavies as David Geffen, uber-manager Sandy Gallin, then¨CNBC Entertainment president Garth Ancier, and Usual Suspects director Bryan Singer. It's also where they hatched an audacious plan for a Web-based television venture that was to consign the networks to the dustbin of history. They called it DEN, and staked its business model on "narrowcasting," or marketing to thin demographic segments. An early attempt to capture the online video zeitgeist that eventually blossomed with YouTube, den.net was instead rooted in original programming. The plan attracted major investments from key players in Hollywood, the tech industry, and Wall Street, ranging from Geffen and Singer to Intel, NBC, and Microsoft. Representative Michael Huffington wrote a check for 5 million after a lavish dinner party at M&C, boasting to a friend that he expected to reap at least a tenfold gain from his investment.