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September 27 - September 28, 2025
Slime Time was Donut’s favorite. And for good reason. It was fucking awesome. But now wasn’t the time.
“Carl, the back of your cloak looks as if it was used as a sanitary napkin. You need to get cleaned.”
You called them the Grays. They are a nasty, unpleasant race. Perverts, all of them.”
“I imagine it’s time you learned of my secret affair. A princess and a ruffian. It wasn’t meant to be, but our love was pure.”
While the Maestro had been overly muscular, Stalwart was leaner, but he still exuded power and strength. And cruelty. Even before he spoke, I could see it in his pig eyes.
They destroyed us, destroyed our planet. And one poorly-shot missile or whatever the hell it was, and suddenly it’s a tragedy. Fuck you. Fuck you all.
One of the mysteries of the Sex Worker quest was how the city elves of the 201st Security Group figured in all of this.
“Maybe we should have tested them first,” she said. “That’s what they’re gonna put on my tombstone.”
“What? Are you scared of my butt or something? I’ll have you know it is glorious.” She waggled it at the elves, jingling the crupper that hung like a skirt across her backside. “This is an award-winning derriere!”
She is Donut, the Oak Fell. The Death Upon Us All. She Who Ends.
*Sniff* It seems like just yesterday you were nothing but a scared, level-1 crawler with beautiful feet, pissing yourself as you faced down a rat.
“Are you sure? Miss Beatrice always told people you were in the Navy.”
It was a rickety, slipshod combination of lengths of wood and metal weight bars that would give an OSHA inspector a coronary.
“I guess that makes up for you killing all those baby goblins on the first floor,” said Donut. “We’re not having this conversation again.”
“I’m not as dumb as I pretend to be. I know she’s dead.”
Carl’s Doomsday Scenario Type: Unstable custom explosive Effect: An explosion large enough to rattle the teeth of a god.
The group just looked at me. Finally, one of them said, “Dude, why are you naked?”
“Please get your dick out of my face,” he said. I grinned and backed away.
You’re not going to break me. Fuck you all.
But the sight of myself up on the screen, running full tilt through the Over City with nothing but a one-armed leather jacket and my nuts dangling free filled me with a strange, almost primal sense of vulnerability.
Thou shalt not talk shit about Borant.
