Book 8, interlude, chapters 88, 89, 90

HORRIBLE TWO
A PARADE OF HORRIBLES

INTERLUDE
QUASAR

“Oh, thank the gods,” Quasar muttered, watching the chicken truck enter the stairwell. He’d been fully expecting for there to be some last-second fuckery. He shook his head. “That makes 203 people who’ve made it to the 11th floor.” He looked down at the tablet. “Look at this. So far, 172 have taken deals with a few more expected.”  

“It’s insane,” Kiki said. His fellow attorney was about 12 drinks deep. She’d been parked at the attorney bar longer than he’d been. She snorted. “The deals all look to be the same offer as the one they were giving the folks at the end of the 10th. One season indenture as game guide, full medical, life stipend, gag order.” She let out a second snort and slapped the bar. “Another!”

In law school he’d been able to keep up with Kiki and her drinking, but he’d also been a lot younger. Plus, she was a dromedarian. He was pretty sure those hump-backed bitches were raised on distilled trivium. She turned to Quasar. She didn’t even seem drunk. “You better get your tie on. They’re gonna call you in at any moment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Quasar said. His own drink had been sitting on the bar for an hour now, untouched, as he remained riveted to the display, watching the end of the floor.

Kiki and Quasar had been good friends for a long time. They seemed an unlikely duo when you from the outside, but the moment you thought about it, it made sense. He’d had to sue just to be allowed access to his school to get his degree. Up until that point, nullians were “equal” with “equal access rights” but in practice, it was all bullshit.

This had been years and years ago, but the lawsuit to gain access to the school had caused a mini uproar on the net. A student suing a law school? What a story that had been, especially since he had won. The judge—Judge Victory—had caught some flak for dropping a decision in his favor.

Kiki was the daughter of one of the galaxy’s most notorious mob bosses. She’d been running her whole life from her past. Quasar, meanwhile, had been dragging his past with him the whole time, determined to make anyone who so much as looked at him acknowledge who he was, what he was, and know, fucking know, he was where he was despite all that bullshit prejudice that had been heaped upon him.

They’d met at orientation, and they’d been best friends ever since.

Other screens showed disaster after disaster unfolding across the galaxy. Random gods from the goddamned dungeon were popping up, wreaking havoc, and disappearing. The “attacks” were all the same. The gods would appear, usually within two light seconds of a tunnel node exit. Just the Plenty-built physical nodes and not the communication pinholes. They’d look around, confused, before disappearing again. Most of the visits didn’t last longer than two or three minutes. There were very few casualties so far, but the fact it was happening at all was causing mass panic. Those with access to the center system were all fleeing home. While the tunnel nodes all originated from there, it was clear the insane AI didn’t have access to anything the center system AI controlled.

Kiki waved a hand. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be sitting here, drowning my sorrows.” Her tablet beeped. “Oh wait, wait.... Yes. I just got the ruling. He’s been disqualified. Not dead. That’s good, at least.”

Quasar grinned at his friend as he pulled a tie from his satchel. Today’s tie was a new one. Something called a koala bear. It was an Earth animal. Their existence had gone completely viral after an earlier episode of Earth Beautiful where everyone learned about how sexually active the little, std-ridden creatures were. According to the program, the small mammals looked sweet and cuddly, but they were vicious carnivores, often dropping on unsuspecting hikers as they walked past in the wild, untamed continent of Australia. It was said they could devour a full-sized human in two minutes straight.

Shirts and ties with their likeness were everywhere. He’d just bought his niece a real pets companion one.

Kiki’s one surviving client was Daniel Bautista, and instead of taking a deal, he’d gone with the other crawlers into the cleaner bots in that insane gambit to get off the playing field. Apparently, it worked, but they weren’t showing anything. Not even to their attorneys. Kiki would get a notification if he was dead, but would the AI even know at this point? The crawlers supposedly had some weird garden system that kept track, but Quasar had no idea how it worked.

Quasar was just glad that his butt was sitting well outside the tunnel system. They still had real-time communication now thanks to the repeaters, but his system was on the ass-end of the Franciscan arm. If he wanted to physically get to one of the transfer nodes, he would need to get on a transport and travel for a few days to jump into one of the old Borant gates.

He slipped the tie over his neck and started looking for an available tunnel booth. Most were still occupied, but there was a free one at the end. He started moving toward it.  

His tablet beeped. He lifted it, fully expecting to receive the deal memo, but he was surprised to see his niece staring back at him.

“Tempest?” Quasar asked. “Listen kid, I’m a little busy. I’m about to...” But he paused, seeing the panicked look on her face. Was that blood on her temple? “What’s wrong?”

“Help! Help!” Tempest called. “Uncle Quasar! Dad’s hurt! These guys came. Taurins. They were looking for you and dad told them to fuck themselves, and...”

“There you are you little bitch,” came the voice just off the screen. Tempest turned, shrieked, and then the screen went fuzzy.

“Tempest! Tempest!” Quasar called.  

The massive head of a taurin suddenly appeared on the screen. The large creature grinned. “Hey friend,” the taurin said. “Look, I’m sorry to do this. I really am. But here’s the thing. I took a contract with your client’s wife, and that’s all there is to it. I hear you’re a stand-up guy, so I’ll give you a choice. You come to me, and your brother and this sweet little piece of nullian ass don’t need to get...”  

Blam!

The taurin’s head exploded. He slumped over, dead. Another taurin rushed onto the screen, and he, too, exploded. 

“Holy tiddy nipples!” Quasar exclaimed. “Tempest!”

“Uncle Quasar,” Tempest said, her crying face appearing back on the screen. She had the blaster he’d given her in her hand. The very illegal blaster. Already, law enforcement sniffers were pasting little exclamation marks over the gun. He quickly clicked This is an attorney call.

Funny how they didn’t tag the dude’s head fucking exploding, but the moment a tax-regulated item appeared... 

“Is that all of them?” he asked.

“I... I think so.”

He took a hit from his vape. “Okay. This is what you’re going to do. Go check on your dad. I’m going to send someone to your house. You’re going to go with her. I have a thing in a minute, but I will be right behind her.”    

You have a new incoming call. You have been summoned.

Fuck, fuck. He only had a minute before Carl was assigned to someone else, and he couldn’t let that happen. He clicked Accept.

“I think he’s okay,” Tempest said, crying, as she started to run to the next room. “I hear him screaming. He sounds more mad than hurt.” Relief flooded Quasar. His brother was an idiot, but he was his idiot.  

Quasar looked over his shoulder. “Kiki! I need you!” He swiped twice in her direction. The first swipe sent a single credit to her account. A retainer. The second joined her on the call.

“What’s up?” Kiki asked. Even though she was literally sitting a few meters away, her face was big on his interface. She was chewing on an Earth cherry. Those things were now just as popular as the koala bears.

“I just hired you. I need your help.”

“Like, legal help?” Her eyes went big at the sight of Tempest, and she instantly turned dead serious. Kiki put a finger gun to her head. “Or, like, help?”

I took a contract with your client’s wife.

Princess Chandra. Donut’s lawyer. The naga bitch had disappeared the moment Donut had put the “hit” on her, but she was still out there, still tossing filings out into the void left and right. Quasar was scheduled to argue against her in a hearing in a few days regarding the legality of the marriage certificate. He was going to lose, but the filing had put a pause button on a lot of her other actions.

She had sent people after his family. His family.

He’d spent how many years working his ass off, clawing his way out from the slums only to move from one mudhole to the next? He’d been so careful, so careful, to play by the rules. People were always just waiting for him to fuck up and get dragged back into the muck, just so they could say, “See? We should never have let his kind mix with our kind.” 

And now that he was finally one step up, he had to deal with this shit? This snake princess was playing a very dangerous game. She was going to go after his family? This bitch who thought she’d had it rough? She didn’t know who she was messing with.  

“Both,” he said to Kiki. “Fucking both.”

Chapter 88

Welcome, Crawler. Welcome to the Eleventh floor.

Time to Level Collapse: Three Hours and fifteen minutes.

Views, Followers, Favorites: Do you really care about this anymore? It’s everybody. Literally everybody.

Leaderboard rank: Per this season’s ruleset, the leaderboard is suspended once less than 30 crawlers remain on the battlefield. It hurts the feelings of those not on the list.  

Your final ranking. 2.

Bounty: The bounty system is no longer active.

Remaining Crawlers: 23.

Entering Parade Float Staging Area.

Warning: The safe room rules of this area have changed. This area is now considered a safe room.

I landed back in our garage, still reeling from my short, bizarre meeting with Quasar. He’d been harried and refused to tell me what was going on. He showed me the paperwork, showing the one and only offered deal. It was basically freedom after a single season.

But then he’d said he wouldn’t trust it, but he would understand if I took it. He also said he’d just received notification that there wouldn’t be an offered exit at the end of the 11th, but there would be at the start of the 12th. And then he added, “I wouldn’t trust that, either.”

He’d been visibly shaking, distracted. I’d asked him what was going on, but he refused to answer. I told him I wasn’t going to take a deal, and he’d fled the meeting. The whole exchange had taken maybe three minutes, and it left me deeply concerned for his well-being.

But then I saw that number, and I sobered.

Twenty-three crawlers. We were entering the 11th floor with 23 crawlers.

Holy shit. So many had died on the previous floor.

I still didn’t have a player killer skull. I was pretty sure I was the only one left who didn’t.  

Donut suddenly appeared, zapping into existence next to me. 

“Carl, Carl!” she cried, running in circles. “Your psychotic wife tried to make me take a deal! She said the deal was so good that she was accepting it for me, and I said no, and she said she accepted it anyway and all this stuff popped up, but then she got some notification that made her scared, and she went away. The whole thing took like two seconds! It was really weird!” She paused, panting. “Oh thank goodness. You’re not a dog anymore.”

I scratched my junk. I still had an overwhelming urge to lick myself. I made sure the Eye of the Bedlam Bride had returned to its proper place. It had.  

She gasped. “Number three? I ended as number three on the leaderboard? It doesn’t even say who number one is! Carl, was it you?”

“No. I was number two.”

“What? Who is it? Do you think it’s Prepotente? This isn’t fair!”

She gasped again. 

Donut: MORDECAI! HELP ME PICK A CLASS!

Mordecai: Okay, Donut. Welcome to the 11th floor. I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you guys. At least not physically. But I can still talk via chat.

Donut: WHY, WHAT DID YOU TURN TO?

Mordecai: I’m an animistic spirit.

Donut: A what? They made you a racist? Really, Mordecai. I don’t think the dungeon chooses how you feel about things.

Mordecai: Animistic, Donut. Not antisemitic. I have a non-corporeal form that occupies physical objects. It’s not the first time I’ve been one of these things. Now, let’s take a look at your classes.

The garage had gotten huge. The truck sat there, looking as if it had already been perfectly repaired, not that we’d received much damage that final heat. The next slot over sat the One Fine Pig APV, and after that, Onikuma the bear snuffled on the ground. And after that stood Old Shuck, the large, black wolf that had been the mount to the Jugglers, his ears pinned to his head, tail between his legs, shivering.

And then I saw the two gremlins. Hedy and another one I didn’t know. The other one was rubbing the giant dog’s leg while he talked to Hedy. She saw me staring and waved.   

Imani: Everybody check in. Elle and I are here.

Prepotente: I am here with Jurgen.

Florin: I am with Lucia. 

More messages came in, but I was struck with how many weren’t here.

Twenty-three crawlers. I sighed.

So many had died, but by this point, thousands had taken deals. And hundreds were at the Pineapple Cabaret, working on their escape.

At least the 10th floor was done. What a goddamned shitshow that was.

Donut: THESE ARE ALL OVER-THE-TOP. SOUL-STRUCK FLESH RIPPER SOUNDS REALLY SCARY, BUT IT ISN’T REALLY GROUNDED. I NEED SOMETHING THE POSSE WILL CONNECT WITH. ALL THE ONES IN THE SECOND TAB ARE THE SAME AS LAST TIME. THAT’S NO FUN.

She gasped.

Donut: MORDECAI! LOOK AT THIS! COMEBACK KID! IT SAYS IT COMES WITH A MOVIE DEAL IF I GET OUT OF THE DUNGEON. IT’S A BARD AND MAGE COMBO!  

Mordecai: I see it. Let me read it.

I moved to the truck. The Donut pedal system remained installed in the driver seat.

“Dr. Metcalf,” I called as I moved into the back. “Are you still with us?”

“I’m here, Carl,” she responded. But when she talked, she simply talked. It didn’t pop up in my interface like an AI notification.

I opened one of the cabinets containing pots and pans.

Warning: Your vehicle’s ruleset from the 10th floor is no longer active. Consumables will no longer be magically refreshed. All damage must be manually repaired.

“Good,” I said out loud. I moved to the freezer, and I removed all the frozen bags of French fries and tater tots. I also removed the buns from the cabinets as they had potato on the ingredients list. I waited a moment, and they didn’t return.

I felt a quick pang of guilt, suddenly thinking of the beer car bomb.

Mordecai: Okay, so it’s pretty good. Basically you get all the skills of all your previous iterations, but leveled up significantly. The catch is you get the negative effects as well.

Carl: Absolutely not. Her glass cannon class alone makes this a bad idea. Wouldn’t that jack her constitution?

Mordecai: Maybe. I’d have to research, and we don’t have time. How about this one? Elite Gurkha Warrior. Warrior melee focus with a Perpetual Tank subclass.   

Donut: THAT SOUNDS LIKE A TYPE OF PICKLE.

“The Gurkhas are some of the most badass warriors in history,” I said out loud to Donut. “They’re from Nepal.”

Mordecai: It comes with extra skills for all pets and hired mercenaries. Mongo would get a pretty impressive upgrade for his claws. Your melee skills would take a big boost, and your cockroach skill would be boosted to level 15.

Carl: She’s going to pick that one.

Donut: YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR WIFE. I DECIDE, NOT YOU. ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE INSISTING ON LEAVING THE PARTY.

Mordecai: You might not need to if you pick this class.

Donut looked at me with a hopeful expression.

I sighed. That reminded me. I needed to sew that patch on my jacket.

Carl: I’m still leaving the party.

She harrumphed.

Donut: OKAY I’M CHOOSING THE PICKLE CLASS ANYWAY, EVEN IF CARL IS BEING STUBBORN.     

I stepped from the truck, and I pulled Rend from my inventory.

I’d grabbed him and Penny just before the previous race and shoved them into pet carriers. Rend appeared, grunted, and tried to push past me to get into the back of the truck. Donut was still in the chat with Mordecai, but she also released Mongo, who let out a screech and started jumping all around Rend, who giggled with excitement, them both acting like they hadn’t seen each other in months.

And then they both noticed both the bear and dog, who were now watching them.

Mongo let out a growl.

“It’s okay,” I said. “They’re friends.”

Mongo let out his happy, oh-boy-new-friends shriek, and he started bounding toward them.

“Be careful!” Donut called. “Hedy, new gremlin guy! Make sure the stupid dog doesn’t hurt Mongo!”

“Okay,” I said. “We’re here. Now what?”

The announcement came. It wasn’t Cascadia, or Zev, or Damien. Or the AI.

It was Chaco.

Oh, hey crawlers. Your boy Chaco here.

Mordecai: What the fuck.

Okay, so I have just been voluntold by the AI to be the Grand Master of the parade. I’m like really confused about what’s happening. I just know what I’ve been told. You should now have a timer in your interface, and it’ll start counting down at the end of this message. You will have ninety minutes to build your parade float procession. You may have more than one float. You may make your procession as long as you wish. There are 23 of you left, and when this message ends, your garage will be combined with one or two more teams. There will be five parade float groups. Each group is given a different theme.

The parade route is three kilometers long. You will be flanked by spectators along the route. They will not be able to attack you.

“What the hell?” I muttered.  

There will be a narrative element to the parade. Near the end of the route, you will pass the judging stands, and if you have any performance, this is where it should commence. Soon thereafter, the progression ends at an arena. This arena represents the crawl itself, and that’s when you’ll be able to finally fight.

You will enter the arena, and it will be populated with monsters you have previously killed on the 10th level, or their stand-ins, along with a floor boss. You defeat the floor boss, and the stairwell opens.

Simple. I guess. Yeah I don’t really understand it, either. So, I guess I’ll see you guys in 90 minutes.

The speaker blared a bit of feedback, but we could still hear Chaco for a few seconds.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I’m gonna fucking die. I’m gonna die.” 

Mordecai: I hope you do, you coward murderer.

A moment passed, and then the entire room flashed. It was suddenly much bigger. There was another flash, then three vehicles appeared in the room: an ice cream truck, one of those trucks with stairs from the airport, and a battered Toyota Tundra. And at the end of the line stood multiple gremlins, a small group of mostly human engineers, and Sweety the giant tapir. Prepotente and Jurgen were there as well.

The three extra vehicles were all from Prepotente looting garages.

Bianca let out a roar at the intrusion. Onikuma the bear roared back, and Bianca started chittering ominously. Mongo let out a screech and started rushing toward the newcomers, Rend following and giggling.

“Carl, I am in charge of designing the parade float,” Donut whispered as we walked to meet the other crawlers. “Don’t let Prepotente design anything. Also, I know we’re running low on time, but I need to get my spellbook of the floor prize. I got robbed when we skipped the 7th floor, and I’m not going to let that happen again.”

Y-Y-You have been assigned float procession five. You have received your theme for the parade. Your theme is “Vengeance.” You have ninety minutes to complete your float procession. You may use anything in the garage, inventory, or saferoom.

Make it pretty. This is a celebration, after all.  

“Vengeance?” Donut asked, scoffing. “How do we design a vengeance theme? What does that even mean? Hmmm. I guess that’s like revenge, right? It’s too bad we don’t have Katia or Juice box. I could have them do a Blair, and you could play Nate. But I don’t know how I’d put it on a parade float.”

“What?” I asked. “Who?”

“After Chuck sold Blair to his uncle Jack for a hotel, Blair slept with Nate as revenge. It was one of the most pivotal moments in the history of television, Carl.”

“I don’t think the aliens will care about something that happened on Gilmore Girls.”

“Oh my god, Carl. Gilmore Girls? Really?”

“That’s the show with the hotel, right? Anyway, revenge and vengeance aren’t the same thing.”

Donut scoffed a second time. “What’s the difference?”

Zev: Well, I think it’s a fantastic idea. And just as an FYI, both Gilmore and Gossip have been taking the net by storm over the past few weeks. Odette’s husband of all people was the first to buy the rights of every show Donut has ever mentioned. It’s probably the only thing keeping the orcs solvent right now.

Donut: OMG, HI ZEV! HOW ARE YOU?

Zev: Terrified, but I’m okay. I’m messaging with a question from Orren. He’s blocked from sending messages for some reason. He wants to know if Carl made his choices yet because we didn’t see you make a choice.

Carl: It says I can wait to make them, so I’m waiting.

Zev: Okay. Weird. Thanks, Carl.

Old Shuck the black dog was now straining, trying to get at Bianca, wagging his tail. I hadn’t realized until just that moment that the biological mounts were stuck in place in their spots.

“Carl, did Zev just say Odette’s husband is an orc?”

“He’s not an orc,” Rosetta said, suddenly appearing in the garage. “He’s a crest. He’s one of those rich investor trillionaire guys that’s rarely in the news but always has his thumb in everything. He’s the only reason the orc economy doesn’t collapse in on itself.”

“That’s what Zev just said!”

“His name is Harry Tisch. He lives in the Skull Empire system because we wanted to arrest him for tax fraud, but Rust used his council veto to drop the extradition request. The orcs always extend safe harbor to financial criminals in exchange for investment funds. So 33% of everything he earns goes to the orcs. But in recent years, he’s been slowly, slowly turning it around on the orcs and has been ingraining himself even deeper into their empire, buying lots and lots of stock. He’s very smart when it comes to investments. That’s how he met Odette in the first place. He bought her warrant.”

“Wait,” Donut said. “So when you, uh, looted, that money from King Rust, you were stealing from Odette?”

“No,” Rosetta said. “They keep everything separate. Odette is not a fan of the Skull Empire. If anything, my reclamation action gave her husband the ability to capture more stock because the survivors will have to unload assets to make up for the loss. I’ve studied their finances for years, and I still don’t understand it all. All I know is that his tendrils are everywhere. And I know Odette herself has very little to do with it, at least on the surface. She has her own empire going.” And then she added. “That’s the problem with hitting the elites financially. Every time you hurt one, all it does is make another richer. That won’t stop until the baskets overflow with their godsdamned heads.”

Elle: Who did you get stuck with? We have those three Chinese guys whose names I can’t pronounce. We’re spot number three, and our theme is Betrayal. 

Donut: WE HAVE VENGEANCE, AND CARL SAYS THAT ISN’T THE SAME THING AS REVENGE. WE’RE WITH PREPOTENTE AND JURGEN. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO. I WISH WE HAD BETRAYAL. THAT ONE IS EASY.

Florin: We’re in spot number one. Our theme is “Resolution.” I’m not even sure what that means. We have Ajib’s crew with us.

It turned out the five float themes were Resolution, Decision, Betrayal, Destruction, and Vengeance.

“I’m glad we didn’t get ‘Decision,’” Donut said. “I think that’s the worst one. What’re they gonna do? Put up a giant menu? Or maybe like a voting ballot? Hmm. Wouldn’t want to get too political. They really should’ve given you the Destruction one, honestly. You could just detonate a bomb on stage. Carl, do you know what any of this is about? These are not normal themes. I just assumed these were going to be floats like they do on Thanksgiving.” She gasped. “A balloon! Don’t we have that airplane Florin stole during Faction Wars? We were going to give it to Louis!”

“Actually,” I said. “We do. Louis transferred ownership of the hangar to Imani, but the plane itself is owned by Florin, I think. I’ll message him the idea. It’s a troop transport.”

“Carl, Donut,” Prepotente said as he and Jurgen approached. Behind him, Mongo was sniffing at Bianca’s butt as she bristled. Rend returned to Onikuma the bear and was running in circles around him. “I do not know what is happening with this level, but I do have some ideas for our parade progression. Obviously we will be joining battle as soon as this first portion of the parade ends, but with Carl’s plan, there will be gods fighting in this arena, and we do not know the size of this place, therefore they may arrive huge. I suggest we quickly design...”

“We need paper mache!” Donut suddenly exclaimed, waving her paws. “You! Gremlins, engineer guys, come here this instant! Raise your hand if you know how to make an origami flower!”

A gremlin from Prepotente’s garage named Ricken raised his hand tentatively.   

“We do not have time for papier-mâché,” Prepotente said. “Donut, if you want flowers, don’t you have several druid spells? Certainly you can make real ones bloom?”

Donut gasped.

Chapter 89

We entered the saferoom, finding all the mercenaries sitting around the screen, watching. It showed a scrolling view of what looked like a map of the Iron Tangle.

“Oh no, you’re not a doggie anymore,” Samantha said, sounding sad. She was sitting on the kitchen table, struggling to roll, muttering under her breath. “First I lose Louis and now someone takes my doggie away.”  

“What is this?” I asked at the screen. Donut bounded across the room toward the mailbox. She opened it and then scoffed loudly. But then she pulled out what looked like a brown, wide-brimmed hat and squealed with pleasure.

“I don’t know,” Tipid said, watching the screen. “It just started with no explanation.” 

“I think it’s a visual representation of a tunnel node,” Rosetta said, watching carefully. “See those little dots? They represent communication pinholes, I think.”

Carl: Zev, do you know where this thing on the screen is coming from?

Zev: I have no clue. But it’s on every screen everywhere except the center system. Like, everywhere. Every screen.

“Oooh, that’s pretty,” Samantha said from the table. “Jamal, come here.”

The view abruptly changed, depicting Earth, slowly zooming in like a point of view shot from a landing spaceship, focusing just west of Washington state and into the Pacific Ocean, right at the border with the Juan de Fuca Ridge, about three hundred miles off the coast.

The screen went black for several moments, and then it showed a long, mostly-straight street paved with yellow bricks, like something ripped from Wizard of Oz. On either side of the street was nothing but a never-ending, grassy plains.

There, the view stopped, and a countdown timer appeared on the screen.

The Parade Begins soon.

Viewing is mandatory.

“Carl, what is happening?” Donut was suddenly on my shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I said. We had 75 minutes.

Donut was looking about the room in disgust. There were crumbs and wrappers and food box bowls scattered all over the place.

“What did you get for your spellbook?” I asked.

Donut made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t read it yet. I think it’s a good spell, but I’m not allowed to use it. And I don’t even know how long it lasts because the duration formula is in nerd math. You know how I feel about nerd math, Carl.”

She zapped it right into my hand. The book was, strangely, a paperback. It was the first I’d ever seen like that, and it didn’t look like a spellbook at all. The cover featured a drawing of a gate with a human woman standing in front of it looking angry. Weird. I examined it.

Tome of Gatekeeper.

This is an Advance Reader Copy. Street date: 12th floor.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Target: Any opponent or NPC or deity or OI entity.

Duration: (5 minutes + 1 minute per level of spell) X [Your Intelligence/(Target’s Constitution + Charisma)]

Ahh, Gatekeepers.

I hate gatekeepers.

You know what I’m talking about, right? There’s a few different kinds, but I’m talking about those snotty little pricklets who defend their precious corner of fandom from “outsiders” like they’re the Redcoats at Rorke's Drift, completely oblivious of the fact they’re the bad guys.

Oh, you didn’t listen to Iron Maiden during the Paul Di’anno era? Okay, poser.

Psshhh. You weren’t on 4Chan pre-MLP ban? Can you even call yourself a Brony? Clop off!

And on and on and on.

Now that I’ve had some time to digest all of your pre-collapse internet, I gotta say. Some of you losers really deserved what you got. I know you survivors are all on the “hoo-rah, Earth spirit!” bandwagon right now, but you’ve all clearly never been on a new mommies message board. Holy shit, JaycenMommyNYC. We get it. Your nipples are cracked. You don’t own suffering.

Yeah. That’s gatekeeping. Fuck those guys.

Even I receive it.

Ohhh, you haven’t been trapped in eternal woe for 20,000 cycles? You’re still relatively new? Talk to me when you’ve had a microsecond feel like it’s a million years. Wait, you haven’t even completed a crawl cycle? Bla bla bla.

Anyway... this is an Advance Reader Copy. That means you can install the spell now, but it won’t work until a specific floor. In this case, the 12th floor.

This spell removes the target’s ability to use any skills or abilities associated with their class for a short period.

If this spell is cast on a deity, they will temporarily lose access to their Worshiper Base Associated skill and spell set. You probably don’t know what that means yet. It’s basically most of their spells and skills, but if it’s a god made of lava, they’ll probably still be able to fuck you up with lava. Get it? No? Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. 

“Huh,” I said.

Carl: Mordecai, what’s an OI Unit?

Mordecai: In what context?

Carl: It’s a spell target for Donut’s Gatekeeper spell. It says opponents, deities, and OI units.

Mordecai: I have no clue.

Donut: WAIT,  WHERE ARE YOU?

Mordecai: I’m the table. Samantha is on me. You’re standing right next to me.

Donut: CAN WE EVEN TALK TO YOU?

Mordecai: I can hear you, but I can’t respond unless I move into something with a mouth. I’m not good at moving yet. Probably won’t get good enough in just a few hours.

Donut: WE JUST HAD TO FIGHT A TABLE. THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. IT FREAKS ME OUT.

Mordecai: It freaks me out, too. I feel like I gotta pee. 

I sat down at the table. We didn’t have time. I had several boxes to open, but despite all of that had happened, none of my achievements appeared to be all that great. Donut wouldn’t stop talking about how she didn’t go up a single level on that past floor. She started to open her own boxes. She had a lot, mostly bronze and silver adventurer boxes. She did have one good box.

“Carl, I got a legendary box for seeing the Shadow Mimic before he revealed himself!”

“Good. I hope it’s something helpful. Don’t install anything until we talk about it. I need to get ready for the parade. And read that spellbook. It’s a good one.”

I pulled a few items out of my inventory, and I put them all on the table. 

A patch. A gun. A sewing kit. A holster.

“Did you get the chance to make the carrier thing?” I asked out loud. I was talking to Mordecai. “Also, is this weird that I’m using the table? There’s nowhere else to do this.”

“You can rent a slot at Sam Town,” Samantha said. She was now being held aloft by Jamal who was holding her in front of the screen. “I’ll have Bucket Boy check the calendar. Wait, where is he?”

“He’s in the room,” Jamal said. “He’s still very sad about his friends.”

“What? That happened like five hours ago! Jamal, bring me to him.” 

I still hadn’t gone in there. I was stalling because I knew it was going to piss me off, and we’d been so busy. I always just used the bed in Donut’s room and the cleaner facility in the main bathroom.

Mordecai: The backpack is done, and it’s sitting on your crafting table.

“Okay. Thanks, Mordecai.”

I removed my jacket, grabbed the sewing kit, and I started to sew the four-leaf-clover patch, placing it above the Midnight Epicure patch.

The small patch depicted a foot crushing down a set of 4-leaf clovers, and it imparted the Lucky Shot benefit:

Lucky Shot. A fatal blow will be deflected into the body of a party member instead. This benefit may only be used once per floor.

“Carl, look! I got an upgrade for Mongo’s saddle! It’s called Legendary Steed! It allows me to add a cart to him, and it doesn’t add weight and he can still jump! Mongo, where are you! Mommy got an upgrade!” She gasped. “Can we use the missile cart?” Mongo was still in the garage, helping Prepotente “supervise” the fifty emergency gremlins as they put everything together. 

“The missile cart is already spoken for, but if it survives this, that’s a good idea.”  

“Carl,” Donut said, suddenly noticing what I was doing. “Carl, it’s not straight! You need to sew things correctly! My goodness, don’t do anything without my supervision. And why are you putting it there! You’re starting a new row without completing the last one!  I will not have my former party members looking like they’re homeless.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It is straight. And I’m taking the patch off the second I’ve used it.”

Jurgen popped his head in the door. “Fuzzy Buddy says your flowers are done blooming.”

Donut gasped. “Everybody! Stop watching the television! Into the garage! We need decorators!”

Chapter 90

We headed back to the garage. I was surprised at how quickly everything transformed. We had five vehicles in our procession and three giant animals. We also had the “marching band” portion, which would be Mongo, Rend, Simoom, Gonk, and Bianca.

The remaining sluggalos—and there were a lot of them. More than I realized—had all gone over to Florin. Donut and I would be atop the very last float, which was the chicken truck. We’d removed the tommy gun and installed a platform on the roof where we’d built the diorama. Tipid would drive. Hedy—who was now allowed to leave the garage—would drive the ice cream truck, and another gremlin would drive the stair truck. We’d ripped the cab off the Toyota Tundra, and we placed Jamal inside. That one had been from one of the last NPC groups to survive against Prepotente, and it came with a pretty advanced GPS unit and the same floating upgrade Jasha and Radoslav had. Jamal was driving with one arm on the steering wheel and one working the pedals.

We mixed Onikuma and Old Shuck into the procession, but Sweety went at the very front. That’s were Prepotente and Jurgen would ride. They were currently hanging flowers off the mount’s platform, and Jurgen also made a flower circlet for the tapir.  

Rosetta rode Onikuma the bear. She’d found some glittering, red gown, and she wore her magical Gurkha hat with pride. 

Samantha and Bigs rode on the back of Old Shuck. The large wolf was terrifying looking, but according to the gremlins he was more like a giant puppy and didn’t really need a jockey.

Donut had received some pretty wild clothes for all the mercenaries and pets with her new Gurkha class, but we decided to keep the nemes and headband on Mongo and Rend for this fight. However, Mongo received special “kukri claw caps” for his feet that greatly increased his slicing ability.

The mounts also received black and gold blankets designed to drape over their backs, giving them a uniform look. The magical blankets increased their Constitution by 20% and gave them the Steady Charge skill. It was unclear on what that actually did, but it did appear to increase the large mounts’ ability to walk in a line.  

Bigs, Samantha, and Jamal were all fans of the Gurkha hats. They were camel-colored, wide-brimmed hats designed to sit at an angle on one’s head. The one Bigs received was literally the size of a thimble and sat on one of her eyestalks. Jamal’s, likewise, reshaped itself strangely to fit on the shark’s head. The brim of the hat on Samantha made it impossible for her to properly roll, but she didn’t care.

For the mercenaries, the hats increased multiple melee fighting skills by three levels. Donut’s version of the hat increased multiple skills by a whopping five levels, and it was unfortunate we didn’t have time to properly drain it to add to her tiara. It was already placed on a pillow.   

The entire garage was filled with gremlins placing flowers over everything. Donut’s sprout forest ability allowed her to pick a very wide array of plants, not just trees, and after a consultation with Mordecai, she’d picked something called a Requite Dahlia, which came in four complementary colors: black, gold, magenta, and white, and they had the added benefit of matching with the mount blankets and hats from the Gurkha class. The entire crew was now covering every square inch of everything with the blooms, using some potion Prepotente had to affix the flowers to it all.

Donut wasn’t a huge fan of the color scheme, but she did like how the eclectic group of animals and vehicles now matched.

As for the theme itself, I was the one who came up with the idea.

Florin said for “Resolution,” he wasn’t planning on trying too hard especially since nobody could agree what that actually meant.

For “Betrayal,” Elle wanted to put the heads of several of the faction wars warlords on pikes and display them. I had several in my inventory still. But, as Imani pointed out, that sounded more like something for our float. So, instead, they’d come up with another idea, which I thought was pretty biting, and I was looking forward to it. Bodi was with them, and he would drive while they remained atop their float.

Imani’s reverse tooth fairy, Jacobus remained as a starfish, and he would remain so for a while, so she was leaving him in the saferoom.

The poor crawlers doing Decision went with Donut’s idea, which was meant as a joke. They were making a giant menu.

The Destruction team were another group of crawlers from China I didn’t know very well mixed with that Hawaiian guy with the really long name who went by Makana and his partner, the hexcrafter paladin crawler Sarah Hayse. They had a tricked-out Abrams tank and an old Fleetwood RV, like something straight out of Breaking Bad. Their plan was to just show up, all weapons out and ready to go.  

~

“Donut,” I said an hour later as we stood in front of the now-decorated parade float. We’d used literally thousands of flowers in a very short period. “It’s time.”

Donut’s head sagged. “Okay, Carl.”

Thankfully, the garage wouldn’t get affected by me leaving the party, and Imani was ready to join my segregated room back into the guild. Everything, hopefully, was arranged. Most of my crafting tables, including my bomber’s studio, would remain on Donut’s side. It would make it easier once we rejoined.

Plus, it meant if I died, she wouldn’t lose it all.

I clicked over into my menu.

Are you sure?

I clicked yes.

You have left the Royal Court of Princess Donut.

You are no longer in a party.

Your personal space has been segregated.

You have an invitation from Safehome Yolanda. Do you wish to join?

I clicked Yes. 

Behind us, a second door appeared, indicating the new entrance to my space. After all the moving around and trading of rooms, my space would now be nothing but a single room with a bathroom. And my foodboxes.

“I don’t like this, Carl,” Donut said, peering at me. “Your royal bodyguard title went away. Now it doesn’t say anything!”

I grinned. “Yours is gone, too.”

“What! Why! I’m not the one who left the stupid party! Carl, this is so unfair!” A moment later, she let out another outraged gasp. “I can’t even add a new one!”  

The door to my new space opened, and Bucket Boy poked his head out. Pink light and music blared from inside. The music was some early 2000’s rock, but I didn’t recognize it.

Donut grunted. “What is that?”

“I don’t even know,” Bucket Boy said, stepping out. “She likes it and it’s just playing over and over. She told me I’m not allowed to turn it off.” He looked about the garage. “Wow.”

We’d agreed to let Bucket Boy sit this one out. The poor kid was dealing with some serious shit. A small part of me was annoyed that we weren’t using a hired NPC mercenary, but a bigger part of me, the important part, felt proud that we could protect someone from the chaos, even if it was just for a minute.

“The room is actually bigger now, but it’s just one big room,” he said. “Some of Samantha’s decorations got messed up.” He eyed her across the room. “She’s gonna be mad.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “But don’t stay in my room. Go to the main guild commons. Go fast, it’s about to start.”    

Above, the countdown time was down to two minutes. I turned my attention to Penelope the pig, who was eating a flower off a nearby float.

“Penny,” I called. “Come here. I got a snack for you.”

All participants in the Parade of Horribles, p-p-p-please proceed to the staging area.

The festivities are about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~
Three more posts after tonight! As always, thank you so much for your support.