“Okay, Carl,” Donut said as we exited the truck. “We won the stupid quest. Are you going to tell me your plan?” She let out Mongo, who started to bounce around and sniff at the still-hot truck.

I gave Donut a humorless grin. “I am. But I’m only going to explain this once. Let’s get everyone together first. We need to have a big conversation. But we gotta do it carefully. We don’t want any gods figuring it out.”

The door opened, and three people entered the garage. It was Bucket Boy, Bigs, and Samantha.

“Wait, where’s Dong?” Bucket Boy asked. “Where’s Corcunda?” In the crook of his arm, he was holding Bigs, whose head hatchet sagged as she looked about.

“Guys, I’m really sorry,” I began.

“Let’s go sit down and talk about what happened,” Donut said, moving to the door of the safe room. “Let’s go to the couch. Mongo, you’re on guard duty.”

The first thing Samantha did was spy Grigori just standing there, still wiping off his robe. “I knew it! You’ve been hiding him from me!”

“Ah, yes, the so-called withering spirit,” Grigori said, looking down at Samantha, who was rolling circles around him. “You and I need to have a conversation.”

She shot up in the air, snuffling all around him until she was eye to eye with him. “So, you’re a fleshmancer, eh?”

“My dear, I am no mere fleshmancer. I am Grigori the Placid, the most renowned flesh sculptor this dungeon has ever known.”

“Well, I’m Samantha, who will kill your mother if you don’t do what I say. Come on. We need to go into town and find a compatible body for me, and we can do the procedure. I heard there’s a prostitute named Vertical Smile in the High-Classes Bitches club who might be a good match. I’m probably banned from getting in, so you’ll have to smuggle me under your robes, but if we go now, we’ll beat the lunch rush.”

He grasped Samantha out of the air and started turning her over in his hands.

“Hmm,” he said. “Very interesting. I will need to examine you properly. Not in here.”

“Okay, Mr. Handsy,” Samantha said, sighing heavily. “You want some role-play first? Fine, but I promised Bigs and Jamal they could watch the next time I bring someone home. You’re not normally my type since you look like a creepy-van grandpa, which is not really my thing. I like my men with a little more meat hanging on their bones. But I’ll give you five minutes over at my place. I just made Bucket Boy install a swing, and Louis gave me a lava lamp. Come along. Let’s get this over with. You gotta take off your shoes when you enter. I won’t have you trailing blood on my new rug, especially if Ezra is going to be leaving us.”

“Uh,” Grigori said, but he allowed Samantha to drag him into the safe room, with her flying while he still held her in two hands.

“Jamal, come!” Samantha shouted.

“Oh boy, Jamal is quite excited,” he said, hopping off the wall where he’d been hanging out.

The dungeon announcement crackled. It wasn’t Zev but Cascadia, who clearly hadn’t sobered up since this floor had started.

I am still here, motherfuckers. I am not dead. But you know who is? Cumberland. You’re probably about to die, too. But I keep thinking that, and you cockroaches just don’t. Honestly, I don’t care anymore. Live, die. Who fucking cares?

She sat there, just blowing bubbles into the microphone.

Louis: Is that the whole announcement?

Donut: WHO IS CUMBERLAND?

Elle: Five bucks says it’s her ex-husband.

The announcement continued, her voice abruptly cheery for a few seconds before she started to descend back into drunken despair.

Two races left, and as you already know, the last two races are one after the other. The last heat will have three teams per heat, and only the winner survives. But per the dungeon rules, any of you idiots who are too cowardly to just fucking die will have access to an Outreach Guild between the sixth and seventh. Just remember, that seventh race must have three teams per heat. And if one member of the team escapes via deal, anyone left over will still have to complete the race. Hopefully your driver for the seventh heat isn’t the one who jumps. Did you even love me? Like, ever? You know what? I’m glad you’re dead. You’d probably just love all this. I fucked everything up just like you said I would. Well, you know what, Cumberland? You were right. I bet that makes you feel soooo fucking proud. I’m glad you and your evil mother got blown out of orbit in your stupid habitat that I fucking paid for with my job. You know, “job”? The thing that earns credits so you can eat and live and not waste it all on blowhole porn and your whore girlfriends with their obvious flipper jobs?

Oh, and don’t forget, this will be the first level that has a floor boss. And the AI gave me some shit to read about the eleventh floor but I ain’t gonna read it because I want it to kill me. It’s just something about the floor only having a time limit of three hours for the whole thing. Who fucking cares? Now get out there and kill, kill, kill.

This was followed by a good ten seconds of sobbing before the microphone cut off.

“Jesus,” I muttered.

Louis: You called it, Elle.

Elle: You haven’t seen bitter until you’ve seen a woman who’s realized after fifty years of hard work and marriage that her husband was a cheating idiot. We had lots of those at Meadow Lark. Imani, you remember Francine Herrada? The new wife came in that one time and Francine tried to throat-stab her with a knitting needle.

Imani: I remember. Doctor Gracie and Yolanda had to hold her back. You started calling her “Killer.” She didn’t like that.

Elle: Honestly, I probably would have cheated on her, too. She once told me that adding spice to food was a sin. Can you imagine? That poor husband.

Hedy was just shaking her head, tablet in hand. “So, do you want to know what upgrade they voted for?”

“Is it worse than the chair?”

She snorted.