This Inevitable Ruin (Dungeon Crawler Carl #7)

by Matt Dinniman

“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

This is a human. This one is something called a Canadian. Part French. Part maple syrup. He’s weirdly obsessed with ice hockey and snowmobiles and semi-erotic lumberjack fan fiction. Has a well-worn Tim Hortons loyalty card in his Velcro wallet. He says “aboot” instead of “about” and gets really, really upset when you point it out, claiming you’re hearing things and that it’s a harmful stereotype. It’s not a stereotype, and that’s exactly how it sounds. He has a relative who was trampled to death by a moose. You get the idea.

They farmed. They mined. They learned. They lived, laughed, loved. Yeah, fuck you. I like that expression.

“Goodness, Carl, are you okay?” Donut asked. “You’re shaking like Miss Beatrice during pumpkin spice season.”

The Inevitable Ruin. That’s what their queen used to call this moment. The moment you realized there was no hope, nothing left to do, and all that was left was to die and reflect upon what you’ve already done while you waited. To ruminate on how you’ve helped the colony, and to beg forgiveness of God for not sacrificing enough.

“Empress, Darling,” Donut said. “Mongo would like to express his utmost disappointment at how you judged him during the pet show.”

“There’s a saying, amongst the former crawlers. The ones who eventually go free. It’s something like, ‘Once you enter the dungeon, you will die in the dungeon.’

I’M SORRY, BUT YOU ARE MUCH TOO POOR TO BE TALKING TO ME LIKE THIS.

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.

System Message: Warlord Princess Donut has committed an atrocity. Donut: WELL, I NEVER. THAT WAS VERY RUDE.

Blood was so much more red when it was spilled from someone you loved.

Elle: It’s not the first time I’ve woken up stinking like a stranger’s wang, believe me. Imani: Elle! Elle: Don’t pretend you don’t know what went down on canasta night.

“You did not just fucking say that out loud.”

“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.”

EPITOME TAGG’S SEXY MOTHER: UH, TIME OUT. IT’S TELLING ME I CAN’T DO ANY MORE NAME CHANGES UNTIL TOMORROW. SERIOUSLY. I THINK I’M STUCK WITH THIS NAME NOW.