The Gate of the Feral Gods (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #4)

by Matt Dinniman

“Unwad your panties, Carl.”

The next achievement came in the AI’s creepy, I’m-touching-myself-and-smoking-a-cigarette voice. New Achievement! Smushed for Daddy.

You have been given the power of every plague rat and kindergartner since the dawn of time.

If a snowmobile got drunk on moonshine and had a sweaty, ill-advised night with a hillbilly’s coon-hunting ATV, this oversized birth defect of a vehicle would be the result.

New Achievement! You’re the reason why daddy drinks! You have, for an unspecified reason, raised the ire of the System AI. You have corrected the issue, and everything is back to normal. The acceleration action has been suspended. This time. Good boy. Reward: You’ve received a Gold Makeup Sex is the Best Sex box.

I had multiple, passive, low-tier stealth movement abilities that never worked for shit because I traveled with a dinosaur and a talking cat, but I hoped it would help cover my passage now.

“Go fuck yourself, Carl,” Donut said.

You look like a cross between someone wearing a racist Halloween costume and an old dude desperately trying to be a rock star even though he’s too old and is really just a bass player. It’s not working for me.