Torsten

“Katia: Oh wow. The ball is bouncing up and down on its own with the beat. The ooze keeps trying to grab it, but it’s slipping away. Donut: IS THIS SERIOUSLY THE ONLY BASS-HEAVY SONG YOU COULD THINK OF? WHAT ABOUT LIL PUMP? Carl: Make the goddamn hole. Donut: THE BASS ISN’T EVEN THAT HEAVY. IT’S JUST BOUNCY. Carl: Goddamnit, Donut. We’re on the clock.”
― Matt Dinniman, The Gate of the Feral Gods

“Bunch of twats,’ Uncle Gordon calls them. ‘Retired men with way too much time on their hands. It’s people like them who started the Nazi party, you know?”
― Peter F. Hamilton, A Window Into Time

“New Achievement! Mass Casualty Event. Okay. Calm your man-tiddies. Did your mother not love you? Is your god promising you unlimited handjobs in heaven or something? You planted and then detonated an improvised explosive device within an urban population center that resulted in more than 250 non-mob casualties. You’ve done this a few times now, but this was a big one. And on purpose. You really know how to paint the town red. Reward: You’ve received a Platinum Asshole’s Box. “Damnit,” I growled. That meant we’d killed more than 200 NPCs.”
― Matt Dinniman, The Butcher's Masquerade

“What is this supposed to be?” I asked. “It’s you getting eaten by a brindle grub,” the boy, Keith, said. “My dad says if you weren’t the AI’s toy, that’s probably how you would’ve really died. He says you’re a cheater and you whore yourself to the macro AI and to the mudskippers. He says now that the brain worms have taken over, you’re going to die any day now.” “Ask your dad why that other guy is always coming over when he’s not home,” I said. I reached over and clicked the number one on the virtual tablet that hovered in front of me. “Next.”
― Matt Dinniman, The Butcher's Masquerade