Carl's Doomsday Scenario (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #2)

by Matt Dinniman

“What is a cat girl?” Donut asked. “I don’t like that. And a were-cat? Whoever that is needs to just learn to commit.”

But this lady is swirling with tattoos that are moving and swimming about like a fishbowl. I don’t like tattoos, Carl.” I sighed, looking up at the hole, calming slightly. If her dot was white, then we weren’t in immediate danger. “You have a tattoo,” I said absently. “Remember? And I have two now. And you know Bea had a tattoo, too. That awful tramp stamp.”

Somewhere in there, deep, deep down, there is a spark of the old Heather. The beloved bear has moments of lucidity as she runs down her terrified prey. In those brief moments, she thinks: Good. I’ve always hated all you assholes, anyway.

It’s funny how that happens sometimes. We associate smells with memories, and when that memory is triggered, we are momentarily pulled away, no matter the current circumstances. That’s exactly what happened here, as I stepped into the most fucked-up circus in the history of the universe.

“Cats don’t drink cocktails,” I said. “Cats don’t shoot lasers from their eyes, either, but here we are, Carl. Mama needs a night off.”

We’re supposed to be making the world… the universe… a better place for our children. If it’s not better, if you’re dealing with cruelty, with neglect, then you should do something about it. So, yeah. Fuck ‘em. Fuck King Rust and his asshole child. If you’re unhappy with your government, then kick them out and set up your own, one that represents the people’s best interests. You shouldn’t have to put up with some loser who’s going to take the people’s money and waste it on games, especially when those games entail killing people weaker than him with little or no real danger to himself. What a pussy. That’s my opinion.”

“Maybe we should have tested them first,” she said. “That’s what they’re gonna put on my tombstone.”

“Carl?” she asked. I looked down into her large, glowing eyes. “Yeah?” “I’m not as dumb as I pretend to be. I know she’s dead.” “I know.” I wrapped myself around her. We both closed our eyes and braced for the end.