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

by Matt Dinniman

“It’s on your face, Carl,” Donut said, disgust in her voice. “You’ve been ruined. You look like one of those white guy rappers now.”

As always, safety came last.

the whole dungeon shook like Carl used to after he went on that website that gave his computer a virus.

Reward: You’ve received a Gold Makeup Sex is the Best Sex box.

We are all prostitutes in one way or another, I suppose. ”

Coffee Shop Author Kit. Alcoholism and crippling self-doubt not included.

“Well they’re terrible at it,” Donut said. “I mean, really. If they can’t even manage to kill one human who doesn’t wear pants, how can anyone expect them to control an intergalactic empire? No offense, Carl.”

I reached over and patted the robot on the head. It moaned. Like a sexual, human woman moan. I jerked my hand back. “Jesus Christ!”

“Pretty colors,” robot Donut said. I felt the head turn around to face me in the complete, multi-hued smoke storm. The voice went down an octave. “This is what we all see in the end. I’m always here for you, Carl.”

“Nobody likes melodrama, Loita,” I said as the kua-tin died.