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

by Matt Dinniman

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.

New Achievement! Hail Mary! You have initiated an attack that has caused more than 100 casualties more than 100 kilometers from your current position. You’re either the universe’s greatest sniper, or you’ve been a sneaky, little, portal-using bitch. Either way, that’s rather impressive. You’d have a great career in politics ahead of you if, you know, we hadn’t destroyed your world and all the governments and stuff.

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. Quickly traverses through both sand and snow. Don’t worry about the lack of roll cage or the grossly-misplaced center of gravity, or the fact this thing will do an impressive impersonation of a catapult the moment it hits a rock. The most important part is that it looks kind of badass.

“You keep destroying governmental buildings, Carl,” Donut said. “People are going to start thinking you have a problem with authority.”

“And you said he was going to murder us.” “The d-d-day isn’t over yet.”

This rare tuber only grows in dirt that has been covered by lava. They are very rare. Nobody ever goes digging them up, either. You know why? Because they taste like dogshit, that’s why. They’re pretty much useless. In fact, fuck you for wasting my time with this.

Target locked, bitches!

“Fire in the hole. Watch your eyebrows,”

“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?

New Quest. The Gate of the Feral Gods. Henrik the Changeling. Commandant Kane. The Mad Dune Mage. They all have pieces of the artifact. Take it from them. Collect all three. Put them together. What happens next is pretty damn neat. Reward: Oh boy-oh-boy. Oh boy-oh-boy.

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

Also known as the “Death’s Welcoming Committee” Shark, the Concierge Shark is one of the fastest and most voracious of the ocean’s predators. They’ll eat anything. ANYTHING. Even those circus peanut candy things. It’s really kind of gross.

“Uh, Carl,” Katia said. “You dropped a head on the floor.”

“If I had gone in there, I would’ve been smushed on the ocean floor. You know how I feel about getting smushed. I’m not one of your hamsters, Carl.”

Ahh, the planet earth. A whole lot of culture. A whole lot of spunk. So many dumbasses.

Drakea’s Enchanted Kerchief of Disorder. This handy-dandy, versatile garment can be worn around the neck, in the hair, or on your face if you want to cosplay as a cowboy robbing a bank. Can also be tied around your arms or legs, but only if you want to look like a moron.

did you ever notice this strange phenomenon when it comes to earth books about dogs? They always die in the end. Always. What kind of sick, sadistic fuckers are you?

“If I get eaten by a giant, two-headed cocker spaniel so help me I will never forgive you.”

“Didn’t you just crash a drop bear into a god’s face?” “That was hours ago.”