Book 8, chapter 18, 19, and 20 + Los Angeles Info + More Tour Info (Patreon)

Hi all! I hope to see you tomorrow night in LA or this friday in Tucson! Also, we had some UK dates pop up, but I fear those are selling out fast. We STILL have tickets for LA tomorrow night, so please come if you haven't signed up already!

Los Angeles Septermber 22nd and 23rd: Tickets Here!
Tucson: Sold Out!

UK Multiple dates in March here
NZ: March 27 Here

We will soon be announcing multiple dates in the US in February to support Operation Bounce House.

Okay, okay, onto the chapters!

~
Praveen Ar. Crawler #34,301.

Race: Fire Djinn.

Class: Pulp Flamemancer.

Final level: 63.

Blessings on you. We’ve never talked, but you’ve directly saved my life three times. The first was during the Iron Tangle when you saved us when we were trapped at that station, the second was when you stopped that god from burning down our bubble on the fifth floor, and a third time was during the eighth when you gave us the instructions on how to escape to the ninth.

My mother once told me that my skill as an artist will go to waste, and that I should become an engineer like my father. I never listened.

This will never repay what you’ve done, and I am terrified of the deal I’m about to accept, but this is a spell that saved my life more times than I can count. I hope and pray you will find a use for it. Don’t let the stupid name fool you as it’s quite a powerful spell.

Drawing: A masterfully detailed drawing of an elephant.

Spell: Summon Blastyderm. Casts at level 15.   

Chapter 18

“Don’t turn when you look left and right,” I said as we bumped up the hill. “It’s okay. You’re good. They’re stopped up ahead. I see them.”

“Goodness, Bucket Boy,” Donut said, talking loud over the sound of the pouring rain. “You can probably go a little faster. This shield is only going to last so long. Didn’t you drive one of these things on the last floor?”

“That was different,” he said miserably. “There were no floor thingies! And it went where you wanted it to go!”

“What does that even mean?” Donut asked. “This goes where you want it to go, too, as long as you drive it correctly!”

Bucket Boy yelped and jerked to the side. “No, you don’t understand. This is way different!”  

“You don’t have to avoid everything in the road if it’s tiny! You’re going to make Mongo carsick again!”

Mongo was currently put away.

Crash! A hill to our left exploded from the strike of a massive hailstone.

Donut’s Shield spell was strong enough to keep us mostly safe, but when she had it large enough to protect the entire truck, it wasn’t as powerful. The massive chunks seemed to be mostly hitting off the track. Smaller, but still big, shards rained down on the road, covering the asphalt and pinging off the shield. The truck already slid once as we crested a small hill, which freaked out Bucket Boy, and now he was moving at a snail’s pace.  

Ahead, I could see the large, armored tank thing from team One Fine Pig and the convertible car from the Lady Dominators parked at the top of the next peak. Several figures were out of their vehicles, staring at something I couldn’t yet see.

The Lady Dominator car appeared to be a late 60’s Pontiac GTO convertible painted in a deep burgundy. I noted Corcunda the half-mantaur remained in the back of the two-door car, still hanging out the side, like he was asleep.

As we expected, there was a wide shield around the car that was clearly visible as the rain and hail fell around it.

The other vehicle was like a mix between a Hummer and a bank’s armored truck. It appeared it might be of Russian origin based on the boxy utility of the thing. This truck also had a shield around it, but it was clearly a different type of shield, as it glowed blue, and it was shaped like a cube. It, too, kept the rain and hail from hitting it.

This armored vehicle, from team One Fine Pig, was the one that had come in first place, so these guys were the ones who’d either picked a golden upgrade or three regular upgrades at the end of the last race.

The fact neither team appeared too concerned with protecting their vehicle suggested both shields were especially powerful.

We had to be extra careful here. Yes, we needed to work together to fight whatever they were looking at, but they could just as easily blow our truck off the road, eliminating us. And if the two womantaurs knew what we’d been planning, them attacking us was actually likely.

“We should have gotten a better shield,” I muttered as we pulled up. That would be our priority after this race.

“Should we stop further away?” Bucket Boy asked as we slowed.

“No. Pull up right next the convertible car. Do it slow. I can see what type of shield they have, and it looks like the ones we used on the last floor. It’ll protect us from the hail, too. I don’t know what the hell kind of shield that other pig team is using, so don’t get too close to them.”

“Carl, Carl, look!” Donut suddenly shouted, pointing at the figures. There were five of them. Well, four and an animal of some sort. “Is that a Bautista? And look at the bull guy. Wow. He looks like someone from those weird lady porn books Miss Beatrice was always reading.”    

“Yes,” I said after a moment. “It is a Tigran.” This guy was significantly buffer than Bautista, which was saying a lot.

“It looks like a gathering from backstage at the Penis Parade,” Donut said. “Everybody is so muscly. Except the creature. My goodness, is just a regular pig?” She scoffed. “One Fine Pig indeed.”   

We pulled to a stop right next to the GTO. I knew from experience the shield guarding the car only stopped things moving fast, so we pulled up slow. This close, we’d also get protection from the hail.

“I think you’re right,” Bucket Boy said, gaping. “They all look like dancers. All except the oinker. Look at the delts on the tigran.” He let out a small gasp. “Hey, hey I know that guy! The other one. The taurin. His name is Pontiff. He was a dancer but Damascus sent him back to the mercenary market because he was a dick.” Bucket Boy turned to look at me and Donut. He reached up to rub the side of his snout. “He slapped me once because he said I got in the way during his routine. There wasn’t even anyone in the club except a few of the regulars.”  

I examined the figures standing at the top of the hill, none of whom were paying attention to us.

The first two were Genesis and Rapture, the two womantaurs, standing side by side. Once again, they had their large boots on the road in front of them. They were in an animated discussion with the hulking Tigran.

Standing off to the side, holding a comically large mallet similar to the one the late Brandon once carried, was the bull-headed taurin. He was, indeed, named Pontiff. He was a level-83 Taurin Rhythm Rider, which I knew was a type of mage that used soundwaves. He was listed as a hired mercenary for team One Fine Pig.

This taurin guy, I realized, was casting a spell with his mallet. It was yet another type of shield. The glowing head of the giant hammer vibrated, which was keeping the rain and hail off the group standing at the top of the hill.

I was half-expecting the Tigran to also be a mercenary, but he was actually a racer. On my shoulder, Donut tensed as we read the description.

Nico. Tigran. Level 91 Greaser.

One of three from Team One Fine Pig.  

You already know what a Tigran is as you’re buddies with that guy who plays with dolls and almost did something really suspicious with his tea before he came to his senses. I’m sure now his girlfriend is out of the picture and already kicking ass on another front he’ll be perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about there I’m sure. Anyway, I’m no gossip and I digress. We’re talking about Nico.

Nico is two things. One, he’s a Tigran. A tiger person. Angry, emotional, strong, and fiercely loyal. That’s what they’re known for, but that’s also a stereotype. Like with most species, there’s a whole spectrum. I’m sure there are dweeb tigrans and pacifist tigrans and vegan tigrans and tigrans who have fallen prey to some random MLM and irritate all their extended family members and friends from high school with annoying yet weirdly desperate marketing emails.

Still, Nico falls well within the range of what you’d come to expect from your average dude with a tiger head...

...with one, glaring exception. And that exception is Penelope.

His wife. The love of his life. 

Nico is part of a throuple. And between you and me, it’s not a healthy relationship. Don’t @ me all of you in polycules. You know as well as I do that sometimes people love their partners so much they get dragged into this whole sharing situation because they don’t want to lose what they have. I’m sure there are plenty of perfectly healthy situations out there. This ain’t one of them.

Penelope is the one who wanted to open things up. So it’s now Nico, Dario—who is that other Tigran currently glaring at you from behind the steering wheel of their Tigr APC, and Penelope.

And yes, Penelope is the pig. Yes, she’s just a regular pig with the intelligence of a regular pig. Just go with it. There’s a whole storyline there. Examine her if you want to know more.    

“What the fuck,” I muttered, and then, louder, “Donut, be careful! Your claws!”

Despite the new claw caps, she was hurting me. The pressure abated.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said.

Jesus, I thought. She could’ve ripped my arm off.

Donut: DID THE AI JUST SAY SOMETHING ABOUT KATIA? DO YOU THINK THAT MEANS SHE’S DOING OKAY?

Carl: It did, and I think it does. 

Donut: WHAT IS IT IMPLYING ABOUT BAUTISTA?

Carl: Something we can worry about later. Focus on the now.

Standing there on the ground next to the Tigran was Penelope the pig. She was just a regular, enormously round, pink pig. The thing had to weigh like 500 pounds. The pig was clearly not intelligent. She snuffled on the ground next to the tiger who petted the top of the pig’s head affectionately.

Penelope. Level 5 Yorkshire Sow.

This is a pig. Oink oink.

Warning: This beast is magically protected by Taranis. As such, if this beast dies, the killer of this creature will be marked for death by the thunder god.   

This is Penelope. Again, she is a pig. She is married to both Nico and Dario, and she loves them both equally. At least that’s what Nico and Dario believe.

No, she didn’t used to be a beautiful princess who was transformed by a witch. She’s a pig and has always been a pig.

Penelope did, however, once get hit by a stray spell. The touch of Maw-Loo. Also known as the Snowdrop Curse. There was going to be this whole succubus storyline that also involved Emberus and Hellik and Taranis and a bunch of angry spouses on the 7th floor we didn’t get to use, so we brought Penelope here. And now when certain NPCs see this fine pig, they fall helplessly in love with her. And not only that, they hear her talk to them. It’s not clear if the voice is real or not.

What is clear is that Taranis occasionally sees creature he likes, and he protects them. And for reasons unknown, he likes this fine pig.

Kill her at your own peril.     

I sighed. Of course. A pig protected by a god. One of the big ones, too. Taranis was the god who was also the big brother of Emberus and Hellik, and he was the one who’d been married to Apito who might also be his mom, but I wasn’t sure. 

I looked and saw Dario, the third member of One Fine Pig, still behind the wheel of their truck, glaring not at us like the description implied, but at Nico.

“Carl, do you think the two tiger guys and that pig...” Donut trailed off.

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” I said. “Come on. Let’s see what we’re dealing with. Bucket Boy, you stay here. Don’t let anyone near the truck. Honk the horn if anything weird starts to happen.”

He opened his mouth.

“You know what I mean. Anything weirder. Keep an eye especially on that big metal truck. And if things go sideways, don’t hurt the pig.”

We stepped out of the truck, passing by Corcunda, who was curled up in the backseat of the GTO. He was, indeed, asleep. He had an Unconscious notification over his head. He’d been put asleep via a spell.

Huh, I thought.

We passed out of the area of the shield from the GTO, and rain and hail started to pour on us. Donut let out a little yowl and re-cast her Shield spell. It pinged off it loudly, the sound like pebbles against glass.

We both had our tech-based shields on this floor as well, but we had them in reserve. Donut looked back over my shoulder at the sleeping form of the half-mantaur in a gimp suit.

Donut: SINCE WE CAN’T KILL THESE MANTAUR PEOPLE ANYMORE THIS RACE, DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD TRY TO REUNITE HIM WITH DONG?

Carl: No.

Donut’s eye flashed, and I knew she was about to say something more, but we both paused. We both paused because we approached the others, who finally noticed us. And just beyond them, at the bottom of the hill was the boss, just sitting there in the middle of the road.  

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

Chapter 19

There was actually two of the bosses, and the two monsters were staring at each other. The second was blocking the other road with the other teams in our heat. About two hundred meters to our right, there was a similar scene to our own. There was another hill with the other racers standing atop it, looking down at the valley.

“Carl, what are those things?” Donut asked as we peered down at the monsters. “They’re like kangaroos, but even more disgusting.”

I focused on the closer of the two boss monsters. The thing was about 20 feet tall, and wide, and it did have similar features to a kangaroo, except it also had angry, dinosaur-like spikes on its back despite being covered in fur.

The giant monster sat upon two, meaty legs, had a lengthy tail, and two arms with long, clawed fingers. The head was the least kangaroo part of the creature. It had the tall ears, but the face was more wide, reminding me oddly of that giant demon, Slit, we fought all the way back on the fifth floor. Lizard-like in a way, despite the hair. The thing was currently sitting in the middle of the road upon its two legs, giving the impression it was squatting as it grunted and yelled at the second kangaroo.

There was a massive, red notification floating over each of the two boss monsters.

Your vehicle may not pass past this point until this boss monster is dead or removed.

Around both of the creatures’ waistlines was a pouch. Poking out of the pouch of each kangaroo monster was about ten heads, all smaller versions of the boss.

At least, I thought they were smaller versions of itself, but upon closer examination, there was something weird going on there. I couldn’t hear over the rain, but it appeared one of the pouch monsters was howling in pain. That one tried to pull itself out, but it was roughly pushed back down by the boss, who shouted something I couldn’t hear over the rain.

And all the other ones just dangled there. Like they were dead.

“Carl, what the heck is that thing?” She tensed on my shoulder as she focused in it.  

As we watched, a giant chunk of hail crashed next to the boss, which caused it to howl indignantly. It stretched, pulling itself to its full height, its two legs stretching out, making it appear even more kangaroo-like. Across the way, the second boss also howled. The razor foxes started to somersault down their hill as they approached.

“Carl, Carl, most of the baby kangaroos are dead!” Donut called just I examined the boss right in front of us. “And the one that isn’t is a person in a kangaroo costume! It says he’s an upgraded mechanic!”

I sighed, waiting for the bullshit description to pop up on the boss.      

Prison Pocket. Macropus Dominus.

Level 170 Province Boss.

This boss is a gatekeeper. Your vehicle or mount may not pass past this area until the boss is dead or defeated. 

Okay, in my defense this boss was not thought up by me. These are real creatures. Kind of. See if you can guess which part of their description is made up for the dungeon.

Believe it or not, marsupials are quite common out in the known galaxy, especially in lower-gravity, oxygen rich environments, such as the one that is home to our friends here. The Macropus Dominus.

The vast, plant-covered plains these relatively non-violent herbivores live upon are prone to flooding and driving rain storms that might last weeks. As a result, the female adults protect their joeys in their expansive pouches which not only shelter the occupants from the elements, but also keep them fed by providing multiple nutrient-expressing nipples. And in some of the harsher parts of the planet, all genders of marsupials have evolved pouches, though the male versions aren’t as...full-featured...as the female versions. If certain environmental hazards last too long, the little ones sheltering inside can and do starve to death.

Prison Pocket—and his companion on the other side of the road there, whose name is Party Foul—are both male, and they are quite sad as they weren’t able to save their young ones from this never-ending storm.  

They yearn to refill their pouches. Unfortunately for you, you’re just about the same size as the joeys they lost.

Oh, by the way. Their pouches secrete an oil that is quite caustic to the skin of creatures who aren’t of the same species.

“Level 170?” I asked, feeling a chill.

Across the way, the person in the kangaroo suit popped up out of the pouch again. He screamed something before getting pushed back down. I tried to focus on the man, and the world briefly froze.

You have discovered an engineer! At least one engineer will appear during all races. Engineers can be added to your garage if you save them. Engineers work with or can replace your mechanic to further upgrade your vehicle or mount.

I sighed a second time.

The second boss was now being engaged by the razor foxes. The giant bear and dog mounts also started slinking down the hill toward the boss. Our own boss remained on the road, watching the fight across the way. Another house-sized chunk of hail crashed down nearby, shaking the ground.

We stepped to the top of the hill, coming to stand next to the others as we watched the fight.

There was a slight hum to the air. The magic from the taurin’s hammer was keeping the rain and hail away, but there was still a fine mist falling all around us. Donut kept her shield up for now.

I kept myself ready in case someone decided to attack us.   

“It’s about time you got here,” Genesis the womantaur said to me, sneering. “We were just discussing how we’re going to deal with this thing. We figure since those slimes got pasted we’re doing a temporary truce for the rest of the race.”

“Yeah, we don’t want you dead just yet,” Rapture said. Her red curls bounced as she talked. “We wanna kill you next race. Or the one after that.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Nico the tiger said, talking to Penelope the pig. His voice was not what I was expecting. It was nothing like Bautista’s, but it had a more nasal lilt. “I’ll keep them away from you.” He glared at Donut. “Especially that one.”

“Excuse me?” Donut asked.

Penelope snorted suspiciously at Donut.

“Stay away from my girl, and we won’t have any troubles. We know what your kind are capable of.”

“Carl, what is he talking about?”

Pontiff, the taurin mercenary with the giant hammer muttered something under his breath. Across the way, the other boss had fallen to the side as the giant dog and bear ripped into its side. The boss had one of the foxes in the black ninja suit in its hand and was shoving him face-first into his own pouch. The fox screamed. Our own boss watched but didn’t move to help his fellow kangaroo.

At the top of the hill, the two bugbears and the creepy, thin jugglers just stood there, watching. I looked for Dwight the unicorn, and I spied him, still inside his vehicle thing, which was stopped at the end of the line. I couldn’t tell from this distance where Lucienne was.  

Jasha and Radoslav started to slowly back away toward their van. They were going to make a run for it the moment the boss was down, which was likely what team Sparkles were also doing.

That cannon of theirs would’ve been mighty handy in fighting the boss.    

Next to us, Nico the Tigran was on a knee and was rubbing the side of Penelope, whispering furiously in the oblivious pig’s ear, still glaring daggers at Donut.

All of us, including the two womantaurs and the taurin watched this all, not sure what to make of the tiger man.

“Hey, hey, if Penny is in danger, you better bring her back to the truck!” a new voice called. This was Dario, the second Tigran, who hung out the side of their APV. This Tigran was noticeably thinner, and he had a massive amount of gold chains around his neck.  

“She stays with me!” Nico roared back at his partner.  

“Okay, whatever dude,” the second Tigran said, holding up his paws and disappearing back into the truck.

I caught eyes with the mercenary taurin who had a look of...tired resignation...on his bull face.   

“All right, that’s it,” the bull man said. “By the gods.” He had a deep, deep voice. “You’re all idiots. The monster is level 170, which is pretty high, but we can probably take it out if we all attack at once. Since none of you have beast mounts, we should do it with ranged attacks. There is a pulse cannon on our vehicle, but it likely won’t hurt this creature too badly. I might be able to knock it off its feet with my hammer, but I am not certain. Not sure I want to risk getting that close.” He turned to me. “What do you two got?”

“I have a lot,” Donut said, straightening on my shoulder. “My magic missile can probably hurt it. And Carl might be able to blow it up. Right, Carl?”

“Right,” I said, still watching the fight on the other side.   

“And you two?” Pontiff asked Genesis and Rapture.

“We’re not basic bitches,” Genesis said. “We fight close up.”

“Well, close enough,” Rapture said, holding up one of her top arms, indicating the chain grappling hook weapon she had hidden there.

“Yeah,” Genesis agreed. “Close enough.” She gave the taurin mercenary a sour look. “And aren’t you the hired help? Shouldn’t you go down there and take care of it for us?”

Pontiff was looking back toward our truck. And the GTO.

“Corcunda has some pretty strong attacks,” Pontiff said. “Why is he asleep?”

The two womantaurs didn’t answer for a long moment.

“How do you know him?” Genesis finally demanded.

“We used to work together,” Pontiff said.

“Yeah, Bucket Boy told us about you,” Donut said to the bull man. “He says you slapped him.”

The bull raised an eyebrow and returned his gaze toward our truck. “Bucket Boy? The kid? He’s here?” He grunted. “Yes, I used to be an ass back when I was dancing. If I don’t get a chance, tell him I said...”

“Stop talking to her!” Nico snapped at the mercenary. “You kill her if she takes one step toward Penelope! That’s an order!”  

Donut scoffed. “Carl, everyone has gone crazy!” To Nico, she said, “I don’t want anything to do with your stupid pig, you roided out, off-brand college mascot. I mean, really. I tolerated this nonsense because Daniel is our friend, but this is just too much. You’re no better than Sister Ines, who at least had the common decency to emulate a proper cat before my friend Louis put her...”

“Stop, everybody stop!” I said as I continued to watch the boss fight across the way. “Everyone be quiet. Christ!”   

I cringed as the black dog thing—the mount for the jugglers—yelped and was thrown to its back. The foxes were bouncing all around the boss. I had missed what had happened to the one who’d been grabbed, but I didn’t see him anymore.

The boss wasn’t really fighting back so much as trying to grab the remaining ninjas to pull them into his pouch.

We didn’t have time for this. If we didn’t hurry this up, one of these teams was going to get zeroed out.  

The bugbears had fled back to their van. The two weird jugglers started casually moving down the hill toward the monster. The two were holding hands and skipping.  

Chiyome tossed something at the kangaroo, and fire flamed from the pouch. The boss cried out in pain, and the boss’s health bar went down a significant amount. He reached into his own pouch and pulled out a flaming, screaming creature.

It was the missing razor fox. He’d been pulled fully in, but he was still alive.

The kangaroo reached up and ate the poor fox, and the boss’s health rocketed all the way up to the top. The two remaining foxes scattered back. The bear and the dog also retreated.

All around us, my fellow racers groaned.  

“We’re pickled,” Genesis said.

Chiyome: I fear our efforts are futile. This monster can heal quickly. I burrowed a charge in its neck, and it barely hurt it. It appears its only weak spot is inside its pouch, but you have to get deep inside. I dropped a second burrowing charge, but it didn’t go deep enough.

I looked at our own boss, thinking. The engineer guy popped his head up once again out of the pouch.

Carl: Donut, can you zoom in on any of those dead joeys and examine them properly?

Donut: IT SAYS THEY DIED OF STARVATION.

Carl: Can you see their inventory?

Donut: IT’S JUST THEIR SKIN. WEIRD. I HAVEN’T SEE THAT IN A WHILE.   

And there it is. There will always be clues.

Carl: Donut, got a plan. How many Emergency Gremlin scrolls do you have?    

Chapter 20

Chiyome: We are implementing your plan. We will avenge Ito’s death!

Donut: WHAT ARE THE WEIRD JUGGLER PEOPLE DOING?

Chiyome: I do not know. They have moved past the boss, dodging his grasping hands, and they are skipping down the road toward the finish line, but their mount cannot pass and is sitting and whimpering at the top of the hill. Onikuma is attempting to console the abandoned mount.    

“Carl, how are they going to get a skin? I thought NPCs couldn’t get into other people’s inventory,” Donut asked as we crept down the hill toward the giant kangaroo, who remained sitting there in the road, hollering at the other boss.

I almost slipped and fell on my ass after stepping on some loose hail. The ground shook.

The hailstones were getting bigger. We needed to hurry this up.

“Mobs can’t loot inventory, but NPCs can in certain circumstances. That’s what Mordecai says, and nobody seemed to question it when I suggested it. Remember, Dong keeps his lance in his inventory.”

To our left, Pontiff walked alongside us, crouched with his giant hammer ready. He cocked his head at the mention of Dong Quixote.

“Is Dong aware that Corcunda is here? Those two were very close. They had quite the routine back in the old days.” The bull man gave a small smile. “I was so jealous.”  

“We haven’t told him,” Donut said. “Carl thinks it’s a bad idea because we’re probably going to have to kill those guys over there.” She indicated the two scowling womantaurs walking down the hill to our right. They had their boots back on their lower arms as they loped on all fours, which was weird as hell.  

Genesis, the one with the black hair, was humming to herself. It sounded oddly like that Garth Brooks song, “Friends in Low Places.” She stopped at the mention of Corcunda.

“We’ll see who kills who,” Rapture said. “When this race is over, you guys are next.”

“Us?” Donut asked, pretending like we hadn’t been planning on murdering them at the start of this race. “We really should all go after that fake tiger and his pig. No offense, Pontiff.”

“None taken,” Pontiff said. “I can only be employed for one heat per team, so if you remove them next heat, it is of no consequence to me. However, I would suggest that the true threat,” he gave me a sly grin, “present company excluded, of course, is the razor fox team. The death of one of them won’t slow them down. That one in red is very powerful.”     

I looked over my shoulder to see if Nico the tigran was following. He was not. Despite claiming he was coming with us, he remained at the top of the hill with his pig. He was currently in a shouting match with his other partner, who didn’t want him to bring Penelope to the boss fight.

Because Pontiff had come with us, Nico and Penelope were no longer protected from the elements, and both appeared to be getting soaked. The pig squealed miserably every time she was hit with a chunk of hail, and I was starting to genuinely worry they were going to get killed by the elements.  

The last thing we needed right now was a pissed-off god randomly showing up.

“Yeah, so,” Rapture said to me. “I’m thinking maybe we can do an alliance thing. You know, instead of us killing you next race? I know you’re loser bitchmeat weaklings, but we’ll allow you to work with us. Maybe we should get those foxes. I didn’t like the way their bear was looking at our car just as the race was about to start.”

Thankfully, we were interrupted before I could answer.

“Carl, he sees us!” Donut shouted, pointing from my shoulder at the massive kangaroo.

“Babies,” Prison Pocket the demon kangaroo said, stretching up on his legs. “Come here little babies. Let me put you in my warm, safe pouch.” He had a comical, almost offensively fake Australian accent. Like the sort of thing that would cause you to get your ass kicked by real Australians if they heard you talking like that. “Babies, let’s get you out of this rain.”

“He talks?” Donut asked, incredulous.

From the kangaroo’s pouch, the engineer guy popped his head up. He was an older human, and he wore the skin of a dead joey like it was a Halloween costume. His entire face was red and burnt. He croaked for help, reaching out toward us. Multiple other, dead kangaroo joeys dangled from the top of the pouch, like socks draped over a clothesline.  

“Now!” I said. I pulled up my Emergency Gremlin scroll, and I read it. At the same time, Donut read the same scroll. I quickly repeated the process three more times, and in moments, we had eight gremlins in overalls standing in front of us, looking about, bewildered.

All eight were different. All eight carried tool boxes with them. One had goggles on his head. One only had one eye. One had a hook for a hand.

“What’re we fixing, boss?” the eyepatch one asked me.

“Sorry, guys,” I said as we all took a few steps back. “But we’re using you as a distraction.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“Babies,” Prison Pocket repeated, reaching down with both hands and picking up the two closest gremlins, who started to squeal. “Small, stinky babies. Hush now, papa’s got you. No, no. Quit your crying. Just a little dip in the ol’ pouch will set you right. So many babies. Just a little dip.”

He pulled the two screaming gremlins to his pouch and shoved them in. Even over the rain, I could hear the squelching noise. It sounded like someone shoving their fist into a deep, wet pot of runny mashed potatoes. A line of...goo...oozed out the top of the pouch and plopped onto the ground, where it sizzled in the rain.    

“Okay, I’m gonna blow chunks,” Genesis said.

“Yo, what the fuck?” one of the remaining gremlins shouted as they scattered.

“No, little babies. Don’t run. Don’t run. Papa will keep you safe this time.”

One of the gremlins jumped off the road and started booking it toward the hills, only to get splattered by a wrecking ball-sized chunk of hail. The red-soaked hunk of ice rolled away down the hill.

“No!” the kangaroo yelled. “No, come back! It’s not safe!”

“I really need a new job,” Pontiff grumbled.   

I did my best not to feel bad about the gremlins. According to Imani, who’d already used the scroll once, she said they exploded when their summoning ended anyway. These were procedurally generated NPCs, different and less intelligent than the regular ones. Something Rosetta called a Class-C NPC. They were the same as the guests on the main dancefloor at the Desperado club. Artificial life as opposed to true sentience.  

You mean like the sluggalos? a voice in the back of my mind said. They were supposed to be the same kind as this, and that clearly wasn’t the case. Those psychotic slug fuckers were no different than most, regular NPCs. At least not the higher-level ones like Bigs and some of the others.  

But I didn’t have time to ponder it. “Go!” I shouted to Genesis and Rapture as we moved to part two of the plan.

To my right, the two womantaurs loped forward, astonishingly fast. Their job was to get me one of the dead joeys. They would use their arm chains to do it.  

Thwump, Thwump! Donut shot a pair of Magic Missiles right into the eyes of the boss, who squealed in outrage as his head snapped back. His health went down a good bit, but he immediately brought a gremlin to his mouth, and his health fully returned.

So much for a level-17 Magic Missile.  

“Naughty, fuzzy baby,” the kangaroo said as he chewed.

“Carl! Did you see that? That barely worked!”

“He’s level 170! Hang on. Keep him distracted!”

I cast Run, Little Günter, Run.

The chunky, pig-nosed kid in lederhosen appeared. His lollipop had changed color, but he otherwise looked the same as last time.

“Hi, I’m Günter!”

“Hey kid, get that giant kangaroo!” I said, pointing.

I nodded to Pontiff, who was already in his back swing with his massive, glowing mallet.

He walloped Little Günter with all of his strength.

Thud!

Pontiff let out a surprised grunt and flew back. It was as if his mallet had hit a solid wall.

“Nein! Nein!” Günter shrieked, and he turned and ran directly toward the kangaroo, who had two more gremlins in one fist and was reaching for a third with the other. The little kid ran right between the legs of Genesis, who had her arm aimed toward the kangaroo’s pouch. She fired.

...And pierced the screaming engineer guy right in the face, killing him instantly. She whooped and retracted, pulling his now-dead body toward us.

“Baby!” Prison Pocket said, seeing Günter run toward him. “Yes, yes, come to papa little baby! Such healthy, ruddy cheeks.”

Whamm!

The moment Gunter reached the kangaroo, the kid suddenly rocketed forward, the effects of the mallet strike delayed until that exact moment.     

What I was expecting to happen was for Prison Pocket to get knocked off his feet. I wasn’t expecting him get blown off the road. The massive kangaroo completely flipped in the air, landing on his back with an earth-shattering crunch. We all dove out of the way of his long, ridged tail.

“Here!” Genesis said, dropping the bloody, dead engineer at my feet.

“Keep it down,” I yelled, pointing at the boss as I picked up the body. “Donut, make more gremlins!”

“I’m on it!” she shouted as she summoned another. This one was a woman holding an oversized wrench. Two more appeared at the same time, and they all looked at each other, disoriented.  

I examined the corpse at my feet. There was a hole the size of my fist in the middle of the man’s face.

Niels. Human. Level 35 Mechanical Engineer with a specialty in Weapons Upgrades.

This NPC was killed by Genesis the Womantaur via a grappling hook to the goddamned face.  

This was two of two available engineers during this heat. Neither were claimed. Better luck next time.

“You were supposed to get one of the joeys!” I shouted as I started to pull the blood-soaked costume off.

“And let you get the engineer? I don’t think so,” Genesis said.

“Yeah, just because we’re doing the temporary ally thing don’t mean we stupid and shit,” Rapture added.

Prison Pocket was already starting to recover.

“Donut,” I said as I pulled at the corpse’s legs. My hands burned as I worked. The kangaroo skin was stuck to his body. It had built in gloves with long, clawed nails at the end, the palm of the hand had a thick pad, like the paw of a dog. If those two idiots had gotten me one of the joeys, I would’ve had this already. “Keep the kangaroo down!”

Enchanted Juvenile Macropus Dominus Skin.

This item fills a costume slot. This can be worn as an outer garment. You might want to protect your face though.

I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me so hard, mate.

Equipping this costume imbues the following effects:

Protection from Seeping Acid.

A level-10 Jump skill.

+5 to the lotion application skill.  

Warning: This is a timed item. It has a 12 hour limit.

Slam! A giant piece of hail smashed right into the stomach of the groaning kangaroo, who remained crumpled off the side of the road.

“My babies,” the prone kangaroo said as he munched on another gremlin, which fully healed him.

“Goddamnit!,” I cried as I pulled at the feet of the sticky joey skin. Next to me, the two womantaurs just stood there and watched. “You can at least help!”

“This was your plan,” Genesis said.

I glanced up, and the other kangaroo was also down. They hadn’t the extra distraction of the emergency gremlins, but I could see Chiyome had already gotten herself into a kangaroo costume and was flipping through the air toward the monster, who was once again on its back thanks to the bear and dog.  

Next to me, Donut swept her paw forward, and the large bird appeared.

Annie. Katia’s level-80 card from the eighth floor. The monster was a called an Útburður. A raven with the skull of an infant. The skull clacked as it looked about in confusion, likely looking for Katia. There were teeth imbedded into the skull, and even though I’d seen this thing a few times now, the sight was so jarring, it temporarily pulled me from the moment.

It reminded me of why we were doing this. Why we had to survive.  

The bird flew in a circle and let out a human-like cry.

“What the hells is that?” Rapture asked.

“Kill it!” Genesis shouted.  

“Hold, you idiots,” Pontiff called.

“Annie,” Donut said, ignoring the womantaurs as I finally yank the rest of the costume free. I started to pull it on. I had to shove my legs through the neck hole. “Go for the monster’s eyes! Keep it down and distracted!”

The bird’s cries went up in pitch. The bird hovered in front of Donut, almost menacingly.

Donut took a step forward so her head was almost touching the bird. “Katia isn’t here anymore, and I’m the one who will take care of you now,” she said. “But she is okay. You will see her again, but first we need your help.”

I shoved my arms into the stinking costume. I hoped my goddamned inventory would still work with this thing on. I pulled the kangaroo head over my own, and there was an audible click. A new achievement flashed and went away.

“Carl, how did you do that?” Donut demanded.

I looked down, and my boxers and kneepads were now on the outside of the costume. My jacket remained on the inside, but my cloak was around my neck and flapping in the wind.

I could feel it there, against my junk. It felt and smelled like my naked skin was pressed up against the body of a wet farm animal. The whole costume quivered as if it was alive.  

What the hell?

Warning: Your boxer effects have been negated by your costume.

Warning: Your pedicure effects have been negated by your costume.

“Shit,” I said again.

I pulled a banger sphere from my inventory, praying it would appear outside the costume and not just in my hand, under the covering of the skin. Thankfully the sphere appeared in the paw, though it immediately rolled away.   

Annie let out another cry and rocketed toward the boss, who once again was trying to get up. Pontiff was casting something with his mallet, and Donut hit it with another Magic Missile.

Even prone like this, the boss continued to heal itself. It seemed to have a neverending supply of dead joeys to consume. It had one of the gremlins in its grip, but he squeezed too tight, and he exploded in his grip.

“Baby!” it called forlornly as it continuously grasped for the scattered NPCs. One of the original gremlins dragged himself across the hail-covered grass. I’d missed how he’d been injured. The boss reached for the NPC, ignoring us.   

“I’m ready,” I called as I adjusted the costume. The wide head of the dead joey sat awkwardly atop my own head.

Okay, here we go.

I turned to run at the boss.

I promptly fell on my face.

Warning. Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s see you do this when you can’t walk. You want to be a kangaroo so bad? Then I guess you gotta act like one.  

“This was your goddamned setup!” I called up into the air.

Across the way, the other giant kangaroo demon exploded into mist. Dwight the unicorn, still at the top of the hill, was cheering so loudly I could hear it from here. His bundle of vines burst off the hill and rocketed away along their track. He was followed closely by the dog.   

“Goddamnit,” I said, pulling myself up. I pulled my bandana all the way over my face. I prepared the two hobgoblin big boom satchels in my inventory. I looked down at my feet. At my large, sagging, kangaroo feet.

 I hopped.

“Yes, yes, little joey!” the boss shouted as he spied me. He remained on his back. “Come to papa! It’s warm and safe and oh so moist! Come to papa’s pouch!”

He cried out a moment later, swiping at Annie, who dive-bombed his face.

I leapt one more time, flying higher and further than I’d been anticipating. I landed with a splatch directly on the outside of his pouch. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t get my balance. It was like trying to walk on a waterbed.

I needed to get to lip of the pouch, and then I had to get all the way to the bottom of the pocket, where I would drop the two satchels. And then I needed to get the hell out of there before I blew them both.  

“Here, here little one, let me help you,” Prison Pocket roared as he grabbed me.

“Gah!” I said as I was snatched up and smushed face-first into the gooey interior of the pouch.

I choked, and my face started to burn. I couldn’t see anything. Luckily, the costume came with claws, and I started to pull myself downward.

Donut: CARL, CARL ARE YOU OKAY?

It was like trying to pull myself through warm jelly. I was in the suit, burning.

It smelled. Oh god, it smelled so bad. Like rotten meat mixed with the sharp, vinegar tang of fruit juice left out too long.

I grasped, and I pulled, and pulled, and pulled, going ever deeper into the kangaroo’s pouch.   

There were things in here, getting in my way, bouncing off my face. Bones. More corpses of joeys. A toolbox. I pulled, and I grasped, dragging myself down.

Donut: CARL HE’S STANDING UP AGAIN! HURRY!

I caught onto something round, and I used it as a handhold, yanking myself even more downward.   

His muffled voice reverberated through the goo. I felt him pat the outside of the pouch. “Oh, you must be hungry, little lad. Don’t tickle papa’s nips like that! You won’t getting milk from them. But papa always appreciates your little kisses.

The bottom of the pouch hit me right in the face. I released the two satchels from my inventory. The started to quickly degrade.

I didn’t want to do this next part to get into the pouch because I couldn’t control how deep I went, and I just knew I would’ve ended up in his stomach, unable to flee. Escaping, however... I faced outward, pressed my kangaroo feet against the interior of his stomach, and I hopped just as I activated Gloom Wraith Phase.

I hit the detonator in my inventory as I flew through the air. I tumbled and flipped like I’d been shot from a cannon, and I hit the ground and bounced, still rolling, asphalt ripping into the side of my face. Ice and kangaroo bits rained down all around me as I rolled right off the road. Fist-sized chunks of hail continued to pummeled me.

Multiple achievements and a level-up notification appeared.

This was quickly followed by the sound of revving car engines.

I groaned and rolled onto my back as the APV and GTO both zoomed by on the street next to me.

Standing over me was a gremlin.  

“You can go fuck yourself,” he said as he dropped his toolbox on my stomach.

“I probably deserved that,” I said just before he timed out and exploded.    

~

“Sorry!” Bucket Boy called as we rushed up.

Well, hopped up. I could still only move by jumping.  

I groaned, looking at the state of our truck. The front two tires were slashed. Shit.

“The tiger guy did it! The one with the pig!” Bucket Boy said miserably. “He did it before I could stop him! He said it was payback for what Donut did! He did it while you were still fighting that thing! I looked, and we don’t have a spare tire!”

“What? What?” Donut demanded. “Carl! Why does that pervert tiger hate me so much! What does he think I want to do with his pig!”

All the other racers were long gone. We would have to use the spider legs to finish the race.

We’d finish as long as Donut’s shield kept up, but I already knew what place we were going to come in.

“Carl, next time we have to work together, make sure we don’t do it to our own detriment,” Donut said as I pulled myself into the truck. “I can’t help but feel this is an apt metaphor for what always happens when we do all the heavy lifting.”

“No arguments there,” I said. Despite me having healed myself, my face still burned.

Bucket Boy pressed the button to engage the spider legs, and we started moving down the road, moving at half the speed as before.

The GPS beeped.

I can’t help but notice we’re in last place. I’m shocked.

“It could be worse,” I said as I started to pull the kangaroo costume off.

Warning: Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t you read the description? I’m pretty sure I told you this is a timed item.

“Fuck,” I said.

~

Heat Two. Results.

First Place: Team Sparkles. (B)

Second Place: The Jugglers. (B)

Third Place: Team Free Love. (M)

Fourth Place: The Wild Hunt. (B)

Fifth Place: Lady Dominators and the Gimp. (M)

Sixth Place: One Fine Pig. (M)

Seventh Place: The Royal Court of Princess Donut. (M)

Eliminated: Girth the Trouble. (M)

Heat Three begins soon.

~~~~~~~~


So, what do you think? Think it was worth it for Carl to go to all that trouble when it ended up really hurting them. Would it be better to just let all the other teams die?

Thank you all for your support. This was an especially difficult month for me. In addition to Dragon Con, I have the This Inevitable Ruin hardcover release this month, and with that came a lot of prep work. But I'm working every day. Thank you all for your support.

Oh, oh, and we're also in the process of completely revamping mattdinniman.com. We have a placeholder site up now that will be continuously updated with news.

I hope to see you in LA tomorrow or Tucson on Friday!

Matt