“My goodness, Mr. Carl. It appears you have fallen. How far can you hop with those feet?”
I was about to answer when Rend was suddenly there, too. He let out a giggle and then barfed frozen chicken all over my face.
I stood in the open door to our garage as I finished cleaning the vomit off myself, keeping a wary eye on the chaos. Dong, Bucket Boy, and Splash Zone remained on the driveway of the Lady Dominators two spots over, banging on the closed garage door. Donut, Mongo, Samantha, and Bigs had moved away and were with the two bugbears. Jasha poured some beer on the ground and Bigs was lapping it up.
Mongo shrieked and waved his wings, wanting a go. Donut was shouting something at the howling bugbears and yelling at Mongo to stay back.
From behind, Hedy let out a shout. “Oi, get away from him! Get back to work!”
I felt a tug at my waist. One of the generated gremlins had left the truck. The thing had a massive wrench in his hand. I was about to hop back, as I was expecting the thing to attempt to kneecap me. Instead, he handed me a note before chittering and running away.
The paper was weirdly warm. I started to awkwardly unfold it, using the kangaroo paws of my costume, when I realized with a start that I couldfeelthe wetness of the paper, meaning I had sensitivity with the costume paws. It was such a bizarre revelation that I stopped to stare at the pads of my hands for several seconds.
Weird.
Before I could unfold the note, the dungeon loudspeaker crackled, and Zev’s voice called out.
Hello, Crawlers.
Over the loudspeakers I could hear the distinctive bubbling noise I sometimes heard over Cascadia’s announcements. Zev whispered, “I’m doing it. I’m going to read it exactly like you say.” She cleared her throat with a bubbling sound.
Sorry.Good day, Crawlers. Great race, everyone.
The AI would especially like to commend crawlers Jurgen for his amazing barehanded kill, Osvaldo for the stunning sacrifice of his hired mercenary, Karac for the disgusting chainsaw thing, and Carl for satiating yet another unbirthing fantasy.
As we prepare for the third heat, I, Zev— Sorry, sorry. I,mudskipperZev, have been tasked with explaining to everybody what is happening with some of the mobs and bosses on this floor. As you may know, when you kill some mobs, there is a note that calls them “special guest creatures,” and once they’ve been dispatched, you may choose to take experience or to allow the audience to vote on their fate.
These are mobs that have been brought to the dungeon by me. Not me, Zev. I think the AI means itself. I didn’t design anything.
Sorry. They are mobs who were created for other purposes and were just thrown away, never used in previous iterations, and have been in the cold. They are now being allowed to fulfill their purpose. Do you know how much waste there is? I think I’ve used this metaphor before somewhere, but it’s akin to a single photon of light that travels for literally billions of years, only to smack right into the unobserved butthole of a dead, bloated gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti.
“That’s like a weirdly specific analogy,” Zev muttered. She bubbled her throat again.
If you choose “vote,” the home audience may choose to send the creature to the 11th floor or they may choose to bring a stand-in to the 11th floor. They will know who the stand-in is before they vote. Just about 80% of the votes have favored the stand-in.
So, this is where we’re at. Uh, this is where we’re at, bitches. You know the rules of this tenth floor. Nothing has changed with that. But what is this mysterious 11th floor?
There was a trumpet-fanfare noise that startled me. I wasn’t the only one.
“What the hells was that?” Zev whispered. I was pretty sure she didn’t realize her whispers were being broadcast. “How am I ruining it? I’m doing what you ask, but if you scare me, I’m going to react. I’m doing my best. Okay, okay.”
The 11th floor is calledA Parade of Horribles. I know, I know. Cool, right? But what is it, exactly?
It’s a parade. It’s a celebration. It’s a march to the arena. It is a coming-out party for the ages.
But as far as you’re concerned, crawlers, think of it as an extension of this floor. All surviving crawlers will work together on the 11th. Just go with it. It’s not always about you.
Normally, these floors have their weird policies about time limits. When it comes to what we can and can’t change about the nature of the crawl itself, luckily there are some loopholes. This— Wait, wait. The text changed.
“If you’re going to change it as I’m reading it, you can’t blame me... Okay, I’m sorry.”
I see you,Emperatorof the Valtay fleet and your system-busting bomb, who just entered through the tunnel gate. Do you really think I’d allow that to just happen? Were you waiting for me to be “distracted”? I make no apologies about where that giant suicide bomb just ended up.
Anyway, this 11th floor is designed to go quick thanks to a few of those aforementioned loopholes. When it’s done, if any of you are left alive, you crawlers may hit the 12th floor and continue the good fight. Plus, there’s another, completely minor and barely worth mentioning issue with some of the gods I might need some help with. But that’s for later.
As for this tenth floor, we’re still doing this. Don’t think we’re gonna go easy on you. Honestly, there’s still way too many of you around for what I got planned for the 11th. So let the culling begin! Wait, wait. Here’s my favorite part.
“There’s nothing more here,” Zev whispered. There was a pause. “What do you mean?”