Dungeon Crawler Carl (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #1)

by Matt Dinniman

I grumbled a bit about that three in intelligence. Yeah, I never did too great in math, but I never considered myself a slobbering idiot, either.

I’m on an intergalactic game show, and I have to be an obnoxious showoff in order to get eyes on me. And once I do have eyes on me, I might get a loot box with toilet paper in it. Does that about sum it up?”

Doesn’t cure poison or other health-seeping conditions such as succubus-inflicted gonorrhea. So remember to wrap it up, bucko.

Wtf lol

As we waited for my mutant cat to emerge from her blob, I examined my other loot.

The game show host AI described it using a caveman voice. Toad Cudgel Big stick for bonking. Bonk toad. Bonk mob. Bonk girlfriend and drag back to cave by hair.

I placed my hand on the symbol branded onto my jacket. An infobox popped up. Goblin Pass. It’s a tattoo! On your forearm! Now you’ll never get a good job!

Enchanted Crown of the Sepsis Whore. “That sounds ominous,”

“You know, you’re not wearing pants, either,” I said after a moment. “Nor am I wearing a cloak that makes me look like I won a participation trophy at the special needs comic con, Carl. I’m a cat. Cats don’t wear pants. Don’t be so droll.”

I looked at the countdown time, astonished that I’d slept 10 hours straight. I hadn’t slept that long without waking in at least five years. It took the literal end of the world to finally give me a full night’s rest.

Cockroaches that have been baptized in rage and Monster Energy drinks.

“Did we really just start a meth war between the goblins and the llamas?”

“Each of them has a clay jug of something called toilet-grade moonshine,”

Warning: You’ve been infected with the Taint. “Fuck.”

Enchanted BigBoi Boxers. Have you ever read an Incredible Hulk comic and thought to yourself, everything rips off of his body except his pants?

New achievement! Like a Moth to the Flame. You attacked and caused damage to a mob that is more than 75 levels above your own. The fact that you’re reading this suggests you’re the luckiest fucker in the dungeon. Just remember, luck goes both ways, like your mom.

The ghost of Steve Irwin smiles down upon you.