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July 23 - July 31, 2025
“No dumb bastard ever won a war by going out and dying for his country. He won it by making some other dumb bastard die for his country.” GENERAL GEORGE S. PATTON
“Yes, Carl,” the potion bottle said, his voice deep and demonic. “Drink me. Drink me deep. Put me inside of you.” “What the shit?” I asked as Donut hissed. “That’s how you know it’s a good potion,” Mordecai said, grinning.
“I’m going to kill her,” Samantha said. “And I am going to kill Katia for not allowing me to slake my need for revenge.”
“Don’t move, Carl. It’s different for eyebrows and hair. There’s a dozen different types of hair, all with different mixes. That’s why it’s so complicated. Your eyelashes are also gone, so there’s a third mix I have to do. It’s almost identical to the pubic hair recipe, so I have to be extra careful with that one.
“I will not have you saying, ‘Goddamnit, Tugboat’ over and over again. Can you imagine how annoying that would be?”
Or a boy named Jason who didn’t think he was always the main character?
Splash, make it strong. Just like you do at the club. Do your Wet Spot routine.
He started gyrating his hips for no apparent reason.
Tipid: This is for you. This is what you built.
Donut sniffed angrily. “Carl, if this turns into some weird, furry porn thing, I’m going to lose my absolute shit.”
Fortress of Unyielding Power and Authority?’” I laughed. “F U P A. The FUPA. That’s why the AI made it stay on that name.”
“Isn’t that for weaker possessions?” The NPC looked over at me nervously. He leaned in toward Mordecai and whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Like, won’t his head explode if it doesn’t work right?” “Wait, what?” I asked. “No, his head won’t explode,” Mordecai said. “Not the way we’re doing it. Probably not.”
“We’re going to bathe in apostate blood,” Todd added, waving his dulled spear.
DO YOU THINK HE’D BE MAD IF I CALLED HIM ‘POPS?’ HE LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE WHO’D BE CALLED POPS. BOOMER DOESN’T FIT HIM AT ALL. BOOMER SOUNDS LIKE THE NAME OF SOMEONE WHO PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL AND NOW SELLS ALUMINUM SIDING.
<Note added by Crawler Ossie, 18th Edition> If you want to create fright amongst an otherwise stalwart enemy, confusion is always the key.
“Empress, Darling,” Donut said. “Mongo would like to express his utmost disappointment at how you judged him during the pet show.”
“If you change the name of the party, I swear I will leave, Carl. Is that what you want? Mongo to come from a broken home?”
In the heat of it... in the absolute, scorching heat of battle, one learns who they really are. What they really want. One faces their greatest fears, yes, but worse, much worse, one oftentimes also faces their greatest desires laid bare.
There was what I thought was another form of Jesus, but he was just named 1970’s Death Cult leader.
Happy wife, happy life takes on a whole new meaning when your other half is an indescribable cosmic horror.”
“In the eternal words of my mulleted friend, Holger. You done stuck your pecker in the wrong beehive.”
Reward: You’ve received a Platinum Have You Goddamned Figured Out How To Use This In Conjunction With the Fucking Voodoo Book Yet? Jesus Christ I Can Only Help You So Much box.
Who could’ve predicted activating a goddamned volcano could possibly spiral out of control?
Donut: SAY THE WORD, AND DEATH WILL RAIN IN MY NAME.
“Well, that’s not how this was supposed to go,” I said.
Warning: This is still cheating, you clown. Nice try, though. I do like a good loophole, but you need to be using this damn book for something else.
When Big Things happen on such a large scale, it’s easy to forget sometimes that these Big Things are also happening to the little things in the world.
She says she’s ready, willing, and able to do this. But I fear she doesn’t yet know what she’s gotten herself into. And me? If I let her do this? What sort of monster am I? This is war. What have I done? This is war.
Blood was so much more red when it was spilled from someone you loved.
Temporary effect from Meatus: Your dick will fall off if you get an erection.
Elle: It’s not the first time I’ve woken up stinking like a stranger’s wang, believe me.
Epitome Tagg: For the sake of the gods, it’s in the notification menu. Section four. WARLORD DONUT: IT WORKED! THANKS! WE’RE STILL GOING TO KILL YOU, THOUGH!
“Don’t tell sad stories about Louis’s past,” Donut shouted from her spot on Mongo’s back. “My goodness. Don’t you know how this works? You’re going to jinx the rescue!”
This is not normal, a distant part of me thought. This is not how people react to almost getting incinerated by a nuke.
“He was having sex with a naga?” Donut asked. “How did that work? Can you imagine the dirty talk? ‘Rub your naughty tusks all over my scaly cloaca, my warthog king.’ It’s obscene!”
“Goddamnit, Samantha,” I said. “You have a nuke up your neck hole?”
“It’s okay to be a work in progress,” Donut said.
“You know what, Carl,” Elle said. “Sometime in the near future we need to sit down and do a solid positives and negatives analysis of letting you keep that pet sex doll of yours.” “Like you never accidentally triggered an apocalyptic event, Elle,” Samantha muttered.
EPITOME TAGG’S SEXY MOTHER: “I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO COME BACK TO ME, LOUIS. MY HAND IS STUCK IN THE WASHING MACHINE. WILL YOU COME HELP ME?”
“I almost choked to death, Carl. That would’ve been quite ironic, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, so if you wanted, you know, a last second fling, we have time.” “We have like four minutes, Ferdinand.” “That’s more than enough time for me.”
The second was a bra. A bra with my own face on one cup, and the words “Time to pay the daddy tax!” on the other.
When they think it’s over. When they think they are safe. That’s when the hidden danger presents itself.
