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

by Matt Dinniman

I flipped them off. “Go fuck yourselves, creepy babies.”

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

Well shit

Station 88 is Mothman Station,

MOTHMAN!!!

Electra

Hey thats me

The Babababoon is the king of idiotic chaos. This exclusive mob was created by taking a standard earth baboon and crossing it with the population from a Florida jail drunk tank. Not gonna lie. I’m pretty proud of this one. These guys ruin just about anything we put them in.

I could barely understand what he was saying. His inflection was like a Creole guy poorly attempting a cockney accent.

Oh jesus thats horrible

Once weaned, Bea would be taking two of the kittens and Donut would be returned to her parents who would try to sell her as a show-quality breeder. You don’t even like her, Carl. Why do you care? She’s your cat. She’s a living thing, and you took responsibility for her. I don’t understand how you can just give her up. I don’t care if you get another cat, but why do you have to give Donut away? Do you know how much money she’s going to sell for, Carl? She’s a former international grand champion. She’s past her prime. I don’t understand what you’re not getting about this. Goddamn bullshit. All of this.

OH SHIT

“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.”

Well damn Donut