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

by Matt Dinniman

He looked at me as if I just asked to see nudes of his mom.

I laughed. “Hey, Donut. If we were back home, you’d finally be able to knock that vase off the high shelf.” “That thing was a menace, Carl. It was haunted.”

You’re either the universe’s greatest sniper, or you’ve been a sneaky, little, portal-using bitch.

“I am saying this right now, Carl,” Donut announced the moment she received the scroll. “I am a cat. Cats do not swim. Cats do not go in water. It is unnatural, and it is not going to happen.”

Tracked All-Terrain Suicide Machine. The Royal Chariot – Contraption. 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.

“You summoned me just to make me run like a little bitch?”

And you, my soon-to-be-buzzsawed-to-death-friends, are enemies of the captain.

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.”

But most of all, she just wants to kill everybody. Especially bitches. And guess what you are? Tick Tock, motherfuckers.

What I do from here on out is solely for me and my people. As long as I am alive, I will do everything I can to make them burn. They will not fucking break me.

Carl is very good at killing things, and he can be very clever about it sometimes, but he doesn’t do secret Asian man style murders.” “Agent,” I said. “What?” Donut asked. “It’s secret agent man. Not secret Asian man.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure. How does ‘secret Asian man’ make sense?” “Yes, I supposed that does make more sense. Anyway, that’s not his style,

They’ll eat anything. ANYTHING. Even those circus peanut candy things.

Congratulations. You have been opted into the Beta testing program. We are testing a new format with this battle. You may be asked to complete a survey on the completion of the fight, should you survive. Thank you.

The kids were now watching The Goonies. The changelings were all emulating portly little humans and dancing with their Hawaiian shirts up, exposing their bellies.

And it reminded me that Ife wasn’t the only one. That there is good in this world. There is something left to fight for. I might die tomorrow, but it won’t be because I’ve given up. And I want to thank you for that.”

This metropolis, once called “Seattle,” supposedly had a dense population. He had trouble believing it. Even humans weren’t stupid enough to subject themselves to this climate when this planet’s equatorial region was a paradise.