The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #3)

by Matt Dinniman

These losers spend most of their days and nights reading. What a bunch of nerds.

New Achievement! Cuck Aquaman! You got fucked by a fish. You’ve done something so spectacularly controversial, courts and lawyers had to get involved. The end result was *my* decision being overturned. Reward: You’ve received a Platinum It’s Not My Fault You Fish-Headed Assholes Don’t Properly Program Your Quests Box.

Because nothing helps soothe the tears of grieving parents like watching someone else dress up all fancy.

“I never saw that movie,” replied Katia. “I don’t like violence.” “You’re in the wrong job then, honey.”

“If I learned anything from my time in the coast guard, it’s the value of entertainment to a bored man who has run out of books to read.

“Carl, what’s happening?” Donut asked. “Probably something stupid,” I said.

“What’s a prime number?” Donut asked, speaking for the first time. “It’s a math thing,” I said. “You learn about them in fourth or fifth grade, and then you don’t need to know about it ever again unless you become a mathematician. Or a math teacher.”

Unfortunately, the act of making these magnificent, large-footed beasts oftentimes results in creatures with double amounts of testosterone and whatever else makes humans so prone to overt masculinity and hyper, overenthusiastic piety toward their god of choice.

Reading the words of those who have come before me, I know them. You, reading this. I know you, too. You are me. That is who this book finds.

But more importantly, there is no shame in wanting to protect those who are your hive, even if you never knew them. For they are yours, and they are being taken. It is us or it is them. There is consolation in dying in the pursuit of justice, no matter how small or big that death is.

Carl: Make sure you loot everything. You never know what might come in handy. Donut: WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A PUN?

Elle: Why would they send them all the way back to the start just to turn them around and send them back? What sort of inefficient bullshit is that? Carl: You were never in the military, were you?

“I have two weeks more on the job than Portia, which makes me her senior. I will not have my employees mouthing off to me like this.” “Your employees? Why is it everyone in human resources always thinks they’re the boss? You’re not, you einzeller. You may be the one who does hiring and firing, but it’s not your decision. You are ze boot, not ze foot.

Kids aren’t always a product of their parents. But sometimes that doesn’t matter. Sometimes parents can cast a shadow so thick, you can drown in it.”

“sometimes you can just look at someone and see that they’ve given up. I’ve been seeing a lot of it lately, even in people who are pretending to hide it. It’s quite scary. But it’s worse in some, and with him it was the worst I’ve ever seen.”

Remind me sometime, and I’ll tell you the story of Unsinkable Sam. He was a famous cat from World War II who survived multiple ship sinkings.” “I didn’t know about this,” Donut said. “So he was a hero cat?” “Every boat he served on ended up at the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know if that makes him a hero.” “But he survived?” “Yep,” I said. “Ended up dying of old age.” “Sounds like a hero to me,” Donut said.

“I just realized you’re the only boy here,” Donut said. “All these people, and there’s only one penis. You could start a harem. Like the guy on that Sister Wives television show.” I laughed. “Nobody is starting a harem.” “No, I suppose not,” Donut said. “You couldn’t even keep one woman interested.”

“You’re going to get us killed one way or the other, Carl. It might as well be for a good cause,”

Katia stuck her tongue out at me. And then her tongue formed into a little hand with a tiny middle finger pointing up.

“Really, Katia,” Donut said, leaping to my shoulder. “If you need to borrow a sanitary napkin, just ask.”

All of this was interesting, but I didn’t really give a shit who was racist against who when all of them were stepping all over us. As far as I was concerned, they could all go fuck themselves.

But that pride was short-lived as I realized how many people, despite our warnings, had chosen not to protect themselves. I couldn’t believe people could’ve gotten this far and still remain such idiots.

“Why is it every time there’s a big explosion, you immediately think I had something to do with it?” “Because it usually is you,” she said. “She does have a point, Carl,” Donut said.

“I got an achievement just for looking at it! At the boss, I mean. Not your friend’s butt. But I should’ve received an award for having to see that, too.

Our Mistress Tiatha is as useless as tits on a goose.

Donut: CARL. IF THEY BLOW UP THE TRAIN AND NOT YOU THEN YOU WON’T GET THE EXPERIENCE. Carl: That’s okay, Donut. Sometimes it’s not always about the experience.

I thought of my own mother, who’d attempted to kill my father and then herself as a goddamned birthday present to me. She’d only half succeeded.

All my life, I’d felt alone. And now, at the edge of the apocalypse, I finally realized how much I needed other people.

“I wasn’t just going to abandon you, Carl,” Donut said. “Who do you think I am? Miss Beatrice?” “No,” I agreed. “You most definitely are not.”