After passing the finish line, we limped our way toward the garage.

I pulled at the tight neck of the kangaroo costume.

Mordecai: Carl, has your costume skill leveled up much? I would say it’ll work, but if the skill is above level 3 or so, it might take a lot of your skin with you. If it’s above level 5, then I wouldn’t risk it. Most armor isn’t physically attached.

Carl: It’s level 6. There’s a bunch of other skills associated with it, too.

Mordecai: I would just leave it be. Laundry Day will definitely work, but you’ll get flayed in the process.

Carl: Goddamnit.

Bucket Boy sobbed with joy as we approached the garage.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared,” he said. “I thought for sure this was it.”

“You’re a Faction Wars veteran,” Donut said, though she said it kindly. “This was just a race. It’s okay. Other than the pouch incident, it was no big deal. Just another day.”

I’d been credited with doing 95% of the damage to Prison Pocket, and I’d leveled up three times to level 84.

Donut and I both received Platinum Boss Boxes for the kill, plus I had a half dozen achievements.

From what I was hearing on the feed, we’d been unlucky with our race. Most of the bosses blocking the roads had been city bosses. The only other province boss was the one Zhang, Li Na, and Tran had faced. Luckily, they had all made it through, and the single eliminated team was one of the NPC teams.

The news wasn’t all good. Both Elle and Imani’s team and Louis, Britney, and Bautista’s team had lost two teams, meaning for the next heat, they were all in danger of having to face off against other crawlers.

We had our own problems. We’d come in last, earning an audience-vote upgrade. I just knew it was going to be something awful. Even though the general public seemed to be on our side, I knew from experience, trolls almost always won when it came to audience polls.

The garage door rumbled up. Hedy stood there impatiently, her arms crossed.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Bucket Boy said as we clanked to a stop. “Thank the gods.” He was still trembling. I had the urge to reach over and give the poor kid a hug.

Dr. Metcalf beeped.

Limited details on the next race are now available.

Distance: 30 kilometers.

Track: Wide asphalt-paved road. The entirety of this race will be at a steep decline.

There is one path to this race.

Tasks required to complete: Survive.

Special Rules: You will be sharing the racetrack with waves of generated mobs.

Hazards: I don’t yet know what “waves of generated mobs” means, but based on our performance for this race, plus the fact Captain Kangaroo here is still going to be stuck in his Halloween costume for this one, I would say we are our own worst enemies. I would suggest we get a weapons upgrade to protect ourselves, especially since the time limit is so short.

Oh wait, we came in last place. We don’t get to choose our upgrade. Maybe we can fight off the mobs with frozen tater tots.

I hate you all.

Time Limit: 20 minutes.

The next race starts in 8 hours.

I groaned. Eight hours? I was stuck in this goddamned kangaroo costume for another ten. And I really had to pee, too.

“Carl, are you going to be able to use the pedals in that thing?” Donut asked.

“Uh,” I said, looking down at the massive feet of the joey corpse.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Donut said. She scoffed. “It smells, Carl. You know how sensitive I am to the smell of dead marsupials.”

“What the hecks did you do to my girl?” Hedy said, walking up, shaking her gremlin head. “You put her through the wringer, you did. And last place, too?” Her tablet beeped, and she looked at it, frowning. “Well, your upgrade vote just ended.” She sighed. “It could be worse, I’m supposing.”

I had the distinctive feeling I was forgetting something as I stepped out of the truck. Even here, I couldn’t walk and had to make little hops.

“What did they vote for?” I asked, girding myself. I pulled Rend out, and he appeared next to me.

The meatball looked me up and down a gave me a giggle that seemed to say, What the hell are you wearing? He turned to the truck and tried to get himself in through the passenger door, but he couldn’t fit. Mongo screeched at him from the inside. The just-released dino was already in the back and had an entire bag of frozen chicken patties in his mouth.

“Mongo, no!” Donut shouted as Rend scuttled around toward the back of the truck. He’d still fit through the back door, but it was closed.

“We once had a dancer who would wear animal skins,” Dong said, looking me up and down. “Remember him, Splash?”

“Beast à la Mode,” Splash Zone said. “I remember. Died of E. and D. coli after they opened up that salad bar over at Bitches.”

“Oh yes, yes. That’s right. Quite sad,” Dong said. “We warned him. They had the lettuce too close to the stage.”

“Yeah, what is this?” Hedy asked. She tentatively touched my kangaroo leg. “Gotta say. This has just about ruined my lady boner for you, boss. I’m not into this role-play stuff.”

“Oh, I am,” Samantha said, rolling around me, snuffling. “Rawr. I love it when a man wears the skin of his vanquished enemies. Think we can get an ogre corpse for Louis to wear? Can you imagine how sexy that would be? Carl, when can I take your truck for a spin?”

“I think it looks sick,” Bigs added, sliming up to sniff at my feet. She left a trail of orange goo on the garage floor.

“It’s only temporary,” I said, getting frustrated. “Hedy, what did the audience choose for the upgrade vote?”

Behind me, Donut shrieked again. “Rend, how did you even get up here! Mongo, no more tater tots!”

The gremlin gave a little sigh. “Look at it this way. Princess Donut will be much more protected during the next race.”

Donut: I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING. WE SHOULD PROBABLY TELL BUCKET BOY NOT TO⁠—

“Dong! I saw Corcunda!” Bucket Boy shouted as he jumped out of the truck. “Pontiff was there, too!”