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

by Matt Dinniman

Warning: You have a dick. “Thank you for the information,” I said to the ceiling as I examined the weapon’s properties.

At that moment, it hit me. Katia was now and forever a part of the team. Nobody needed to say it out loud. We all knew. While this would never be “home,” this space was just for us and only us. The three of us. I grinned. “My dad once made me sleep in a tent in the yard because I had a nosebleed that wouldn’t stop.” “Miss Beatrice once used scissors to get poop off my butt,” Donut said. “Uh huh,” I said. “Once?” “We’re having a moment here, Carl. Don’t ruin it.”

“Who is Christopher Pallies?”

While you’ll never be as amazing as the greatest, most beautiful wrestler of all time—Christopher Alan Pallies—you will look pretty snazzy when you wrap this bad boy around your waist.

There’s a guy here who is a mushroom. Why would you turn yourself into a mushroom? He looks like a penis. Like one of those weird ones that’s really wide and short. My boyfriend before my Barry had a dick like that. It smelled like mushrooms, too.

Katia stuck her tongue out at me. And then her tongue formed into a little hand with a tiny middle finger pointing up. I laughed. “Holy shit, that’s weird. You’re getting fast at that.”

“You know, it’s no wonder you were always so poor. There’s a fine line between being helpful and being a dumbass, Carl.”

But suddenly there was a line of people, all of them putting their hats in a pile of front of Donut. Her eyes shined, and her jaw trembled, revealing her two lower fangs as the people, one by one bowed in front of her and dropped the stupid train hat on the ground in tribute. “Thank you, Princess,” they said, one by one.

I was blasted in the face, getting bukkaked by the fetid, stinking liquid.

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

He smacked me, then. Thwap, right on the side of the head. He did not freeze or teleport away. If he had hit me just a little harder, it probably would’ve gone bad for him. My father used to do the same thing, though he’d done it much harder. I felt my eyes narrow.

“It’s just hair and quivering skin covering up the hole. It’s disgusting. It looks like one of those guys whose pants doesn’t cover his butt. Like when your smelly friend used to come over and play video games while you two lied about your exploits with women. What was his name? Monobrow Sam? Really, Carl. I don’t know why you had such revolting friends.”

“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. The monster is glowing blue. And another color. It’s sparkling.”

“Fuck yeah,” I said. I turned to Li Na and held up my hand. “High five.” She just looked at me. “If I touch you with my hand, you will experience excruciating pain throughout your entire body that will cause you to lose control of your bladder and bowels.” “Okay, then,” I said. “Moving on.”

“Carl,” he said. “I should have known such a colossal fuck-up could only be perpetrated by such a colossal dolt.”

“To the abyss. Why don’t you come over here and call me a neanderthal to my face?” He screamed. “Gentlemen,” Imani said, appearing next to me. “Both of you put your dicks away. We don’t need this right now.”

So if he’s captured in a sigil, and a worshipper summons him again via a different means, the god will break his containment and move to the new vessel. This… this is very important to know. I learned it the hard way. The hardest way possible.

Have you ever gone to one of those buffets? One of those absurdly-cheap, all-you-can-slop-into-your-gullet affairs? The price is suspicious. The instant mashed potatoes taste like they’re cut with sawdust. The meat is gray. The surrounding neighborhood is awash with missing cat flyers. You know what I’m talking about. You go, you feed, and as you leave, having gorged yourself to the point of oblivion, you can’t help but hate yourself and think: This is it? This is what life is? A trip from one trough to the next?

“Glurp, glurp, motherfucker,” I said before I collapsed in an exhausted heap.

“Okay,” I said. “I have a few more explosive satchels to place at the back of the train, and then you’ll be ready to go. Goodbye, Brandy. Goodbye Tizquick.” “Carl,” Brandy said as I stepped off the train. “I understand now. I understand what this is. You must help us. I know you have your own people to help, but we shouldn’t be enemies in this.” “No,” I agreed. “No, we shouldn’t.”

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. I thought of everybody here with me now. They’d all jumped into certain death, just to save me. Me. I couldn’t have survived without them. All my life, I’d felt alone. And now, at the edge of the apocalypse, I finally realized how much I needed other people.

Donut purred heavily in my ear. “You shouldn’t have done that, Donut,” I said as I reached up and scratched her. “You risked yourselves, and you risked the cart.” “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.”

I moved to step down the stairs, but they suddenly turned into a ramp. I turned to see a familiar crawler pushing a squeaking shopping cart. Agatha. She was now level 8. It still said she was human and that she hadn’t yet chosen a class. “Agatha?” Imani asked. “I see you lot are still kicking,” the old woman cackled. The pink flamingo still stood in the front of her shopping cart. The entire group watched, open-mouthed as the woman moved toward the stairwell. Imani moved forward to intercept her. I held out a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” I warned. “We’ll talk later.” “But,” she began. “I… What? What is happening?”

Here’s the thing. These poor bastards are just as much victims as we are. Not just the NPCs, but the mobs, too. That doesn’t mean don’t kill them. Hell, I realized something today. Killing them is actually the best thing we can do for them. But you know what I also realized? All of you, all twenty-four of you who have come before me? You’ve all failed in one thing. If we’re really going to burn this place to the ground, we need to actually do it and not just talk about it. We need to start killing them, too. I don’t know for sure how to do it yet, but I’ll come up with something. They will not break me. Fuck them all. They will not break me. But I will break them. This is my promise to myself, to my friends, and to you, anyone who reads these words. I will break them all. - Crawler Carl, 25th Edition of The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook

“You don’t scare me,” Loita said after a few moments of me just staring at her. “I have a job to do, and I will make sure it’s done. I will make sure it’s done right this time.” “Ditto,” I said.

That’s what, the third time now he’s gotten fucked by Carl? I really wanted to get in on the action. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid, Odette.” The audience continued to roar. “I mean, really? What’s a girl gotta do?”