The Gate of the Feral Gods

Capital punishment means those without the capital get the punishment. ​- ​Executed Prisoner, John A. Spenkelink

Spoiler alert. Nobody is going to read your autobiography disguised as a space vampire and minotaur romance. You and every other half-wit out there with a nearby Starbucks and a laptop is writing the same bile. What you’re really doing is inadvertently live-blogging the story of human mediocrity,

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

I had multiple, passive, low-tier stealth movement abilities that never worked for shit because I traveled with a dinosaur and a talking cat, but I hoped it would help cover my passage now.

Ever since that first monkey looked up into the sky and saw something twinkling up there, you meat puppets have tried to force twenty pounds of existential meaning into a ten pound sack of chaos.

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 know what, Carl? I’ve decided something,” Donut said, finally speaking. She released Mongo, who squawked and started investigating this strange, new world. “Yeah, Donut?” “I think they’re right about you. I think you’re crazy. Like, not a little weird crazy. Not guy who eats cereal without milk crazy. But crazy, crazy. Straitjacket crazy.” I took the cat into my lap, and then I pulled her to my chest. She purred heavily into my ear.

You could take a terrible situation and still find moments of peace, even joy. I needed to be reminded that was possible, and the game console did exactly that.

Carl: You’re supposed to be helping Katia sew. Donut: I DON’T HAVE THUMBS, CARL.

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.

Orthrus. The most loveable hell-hound on this side of Alpha Centauri. The left side is for sniffin’ and the right side is for lickin’ and that pink belly of his? It’s for kissin’.

Grab the stick?” Donut shrieked. “What do you mean, grab the stick! Thumbs, Carl! Thumbs!

At least you two are back together now,” Donut said. “And you got a nice box out of it. I know you find it unpleasant, Carl. But you being stubborn about this is causing everything to be more dangerous. We have to kill these things anyway, so if the AI wants you to kill in a certain way, I don’t see why it matters. This is just like one of those agility courses that Miss Beatrice used to insist I complete at all the regional cat shows. I did not like doing it, and I never ribboned of course, but I knew if I did well, I would get an extra brushing that evening. We are all prostitutes in one way or another, I suppose.

But that’s what happens, isn’t it? The universe shows us how cruel it can be, and we are worse for it.

My safe word is, "Harder. Daddy.

As always, safety came last.

We are all prostitutes in one way or another

A distant part of me was alarmed at this attitude. But this was war, and there was no use pretending like it wasn’t.

That was pretty awesome,” I said once it was clear we were safe from the sharks. “Go fuck yourself, Carl,” Donut said.

Target any healers within range” or “Target anyone who thinks it’s okay to put mayonnaise on hotdogs.

New Achievement! You’re the reason why daddy drinks! You have, for an unspecified reason, raised the ire of the System AI. You have corrected the issue, and everything is back to normal. The acceleration action has been suspended. This time. Good boy. Reward: You’ve received a Gold Makeup Sex is the Best Sex box. You’re not going to break me. Fuck you all. I will break you.

This piece of paper was mercilessly ripped from a perfectly-innocent book. Anybody who thinks to mutilate books in such a manner is obviously a terrible person. I mean, one minute this book is sitting there, minding its own business, and suddenly… BAM! It’s torn away from its home. And even if it gets returned, you can’t just repair that sort of thing. It’s irreparably harmed. Anybody who would do that is a real jerk.

Puppies shouldn’t ever share a world with pain. Yet here we are. Thanks, earth culture.

One of the greatest things about having a religion is the unshakeable certainty that you’re right and everyone else who doesn’t believe the same as you is wrong!

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.

I’m sorry, Carl,” the robot said, her head turning 180 degrees to look back at me. “The void is wet and hungry.

Mordecai spread out his wings. “I’m in the body of a goddamn cleric. That means I’m clipped. I can fly, but only short distances. Imagine if you suddenly woke up in the body of a eunuch and were then thrown into a supermodel orgy.” He looked up into the sky and sighed heavily.

Religion? Whatever do you mean? You can’t join a religion, Carl. You wake up at noon on Sundays.

Donut: WE NEED LIGHTNING? THAT’S JUST LIKE IN THAT TIME MACHINE MOVIE WHERE THE GUY MAKES OUT WITH HIS MOM.

Donut had come out of nowhere, knocking the flour, milk, and egg off the counter, splattering everything onto the floor. She then turned to run, touched the very edge of the hot burner on the oven, yowled, rocketed into the air, and then landed on the floor, covering herself with a little bit of everything while she did that Scooby-Doo scramble in the slippery mess, everything flying everywhere while her legs pumped several times before she actually moved.