The Eye of the Bedlam Bride (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #6)

by Matt Dinniman

T’Ghee Card. Unique. Totem Card. HeyZoos. Uzi Jesus. “I am the way, motherfucker.” Level: 140.

Entering the Penis Parade. I took another step, and a second notification flashed across my interface. New Achievement! “We Want Meat! We Want Meat!”

Take a physically gifted, steroid-enhanced male, give him some dancing lessons, teeth whitening strips, a shower, a banana, a Guns-N-Roses CD, and an entire bottle of baby oil, and then you basically plop him into the equivalent of the inside of a female restroom at a nightclub, and you got yourself a money-making empire.

an Ifrit is more attuned to the aura of lust and sin and envy and greed and all those other nasty iniquities that spill over the world. That doesn’t make him good or bad, any more than a guy who jacks off to granny porn is bad. Actually, I’m not sure where I’m going with this.

“Oh, yes,” Samantha purred. “I got a coin pouch in my nussy. You make that drink right, and I’ll let you use those sexy claws of yours to... dig it out.”