When the spell that had caused my body to freeze wore off, I dashed into my bedroom, opened my gun safe, and grabbed a shotgun. Quickly chambering two shells, I ran out my front door. I was still buck-naked. Nobody was there. No, scratch that; my Karen neighbor Marigold was watering her plants in front of her apartment.

"Eek. You are naked. Have you finally decided to ravish me at gunpoint?" Marigold said. She sounded oddly excited like this was the moment she had waited for all her life.

"Did you see someone in a suit and top hat just now?" I yelled.

"Your homosexual love toy? He got in your car and drove off. Is he going to come back and ravish me too? Or am I going to have to tell the condo board that you have been holding gay orgies in your living room." said Marigold.

Sure enough, my car was gone. "Fuck! Son of a bitch stole my car." I yelled.

I turned around to go back to my apartment. I grabbed the phone and was about to call the police to report my stolen car. Then I realized a major flaw in my plan. If I called in my stolen car, the police might send a squad car for my statement. What could I tell them? That a monster disguised as a human came out of my unregistered dungeon and took my ten-year-old Honda Accord

Which brought up a couple concerns. It was unlikely that the police would look for my car. I live in Florida, a lot of cars get stolen. I'd never, not even once, heard of the police finding one. I wasn't worried about the insurance on my shit-box, but can dungeon monsters drive? What was my liability if the alien hurt someone — say a hit and run — while in my car?

Fuck and double fuck.

And all I'd wanted to do was kick back and relax, maybe get shit-faced with friends. Instead, there I was, ordering an uber to go to a donut-eating cop-shop. Oh well, it couldn't be helped.

The Uber driver wanted to talk about country music, so I shot the shit with him despite only knowing that Old Town Road song from TikTok.

At the police station, the desk sergeant looked at me and said, "Yeah?"

"I'd like to report a stolen car," I said.

"Fill out the paperwork," the cop said, reaching under her desk and getting a stack of papers she handed me attached to a clipboard.

"Do you have a pen?" I asked, and she handed me one.

"If you try to leave with that pen, we can and will arrest you," she said.

I sat down in one of the provided chairs and entered my name, address, car make, VIN, license plate, and a bunch more boring something-something. Where the paperwork asked about the circumstances surrounding the car's disappearance, I thought for a second. The key, I figured, was being truthful enough not to get tripped up in a lie but being crazy enough that the police would be embarrassed to check into it. Frankly, I considered leaving the space blank. But in the unlikely case that a cop came over and spoke to Marigold, I'd be screwed.

Instead, I wrote:

"I got out of the shower. A man came through the door through my lanai. He walked through my kitchen and living room and took my keys off their hook by the front door. When I tried to stop him, he used evil magic on me. Then he left through the front door and took my car. I did not know this person. He was wearing a black suit and top hat."

Then I handed the paperwork in. The cop lady at the desk looked the paperwork over quickly. Her eyes stopped at the description of how the car had been stolen.

"Are you drunk?" She asked.

"Me? No."

"Stoned? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, and no. Would you like your pen back? Please don't shoot me, I'm not black, and this is your pen, not a gun." I said, handing her a bagel. Then if realizing my mistake, I took the bagel back and handed her back her pen. "Whoops. Bagels and pens confuse me sometimes."

The woman just looked at me, shrugged, and I watched as she pulled out a hand stamp and put the words "Mentally Ill" in big red letters on the paperwork. This was fine since I didn't want the police coming to my place and looking around.

"Thanks," I said, leaving the building to order another Uber.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

While waiting for my driver to show up, I opened my [Status] and went to the [Forum] section. There was a new category called Incursion and/or Dungeon Break. Dozens of people worldwide reported strangely dressed people coming out of dungeons. Some people had even met these monsters while fighting and exploring inside.

Can confirm. Saw a woman dressed like she had just left high school prom come out of the Lincoln Park dungeon. Watched her hop the turnstile and climb the stairs to the red-line platform. She fit in with late night homeless and drunk vibe you run into at night on the EL.

🌟Dementor - 1250 upvotes, 451 downvotes, Report

Some guy dressed like an old west prospector came out of the dungeon they have in the back room of the Getty. Freaked me the hell out. Called me an earthling and asked for directions out of the museum. He was polite enough, I suppose. Called the police after he left. They asked me if I'd been drinking and didn't take me seriously.

🌟🔷Robert Frank - 2123 upvotes, 597 downvotes, Report

You guys are all full of it. Monsters can't leave the dungeons. It is a proven fact; everyone knows this. You guys are just trying to make Fetch happen.

Steven Glansberg - 112 upvotes, 3248 downvotes, Report

🌟Just saw that some guy running the beta streaming app got footage when his party ran into a man dressed as an Inuit in the Kitchener, Ontario, Octoberfest Dungeon. It's up on YouTube, and it is wild, man.

Canuck-a-luck - 20111 upvotes, 10154 downvotes, Report

You can't trust Canadians. You know they invented Hawaiian pizza, right? Who puts pineapple on pizza? Deviants, perverts, and woke pedos, that's who.

Steven Glansberg - 512 upvotes, 11298 downvotes, Report

Good. It looked like enough people were reporting sightings that I probably didn't need to report mine too. So I didn't and kept my privacy and wrote nothing.

My Uber driver took me to Fitz's, where I grabbed a chair at the bar and ordered a beer. Sid wasn't around, so I had to endure standard keg temperature, for fuck sake. It was like a crime or something to serve only moderately cold beer.

Sipping quietly, watching a YouTube video of an experienced party of mighty warriors fighting waves of skeletons and zombies. Then came the incongruity. A man dressed like an Eskimo came out of nowhere, walked up to their healer, rubbed noses, and left.

Sid came up and sat down as I watched the video for a third time. I pushed my beer over to him, and he chilled it. Then very obviously, I showed him my empty hands, rolled up my sleeves to demonstrate there was nothing there, and then handed him an everything bagel.

"Skukran, Randy. You finally took the plunge. Good for you," said Sid.

"You could say that. Mind if I don't say anything for a bit? I'm freaked out at the moment," I said.

"Sure, sure," and we sat in silence while Sid cooled beers for a couple of Fitz's customers who came over.

Finally, Fitz said, "So have you heard about the spate of dungeon breaks? People didn't think monsters could leave, and now we've got strangely dressed dungeon monsters doing who knows what," Sid said.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

Sid looked at me oddly, then shrugged. "Have you decided to take my advice and buy a new car?"

I looked over at Sid. Then I grabbed my beer, chugged it, and gestured at Fitz to pour another.

"Your car is a touchy subject too? Well, this one will get you laughing. Some guy found a skill [Crystal], and I guess he didn't have [Identify], so he just put it up for sale on the [Auction]. Someone else identified it as something that has the entire DominoRay user base buzzing. It isn't anything any one in the forums will admit having seen or heard of before. A brand new item called a [Bloodline Crystal], specifically [Bloodline: Aristocrat].

"If we were further into the apocalypse, the guy would probably make [Bank], but nobody has the spare experience to bid on it right now. I think people are waiting to snipe it for themselves right now. Sucker will probably only get a few hundred xp when he could have made thousands if he had [Identified] it and then waited. Hell, I would have used it myself if I'd gotten such epic loot."

I groaned, then checked the [Auction]. Sure enough, the [Crystal] I'd found in my dungeon was now listed as [Bloodline: Aristocrat], and there was a 45 xp bid on it. I tried to end the Auction and take my [Crystal] back, but that option was grayed out, and the fine print read, "All submissions once [Identified] by a third party are final."

Putting my face in my hands, I wanted to cry.

"There, there, dude. Whoever she is, she isn't worth it," Sidney said. "Is that why you've been so stand-offish recently? Have you been getting some poon on the side, and now it's gone? Dude, we've all been there."

Making a sudden decision, I said, "Sid, come back to my place. There is something I would like to show you."

"Randy. Randy. Randy. You are a good friend. An amigo, as they say, in the great land of the taco. I know you are going through something. But -- nothing personal -- I do not wish to have sex with you. I am saving my anal virginity for Gwen and her giant dildo, for when inevitably gives in and asks"

I looked at him flatly, then burst out laughing. "Dude, I needed that. Seriously though, I have something you will want to see back in my apartment. Finish up your beer, and have a bagel or two. We should head out sooner rather than later."

After that, we sipped our beer in silence. I ordered a bratwurst Sheppard's pie, and Sid had a schnitzel and cabbage, which Fitz promised was halal. Gwen came in, and I briefly considered making her pubes grow many times too long, but I did not succumb to temptation because she wouldn't show me. To calm my guilty heart, I offered her a bagel.

We took an Uber back to my place. Sid wasn't too drunk but had been planning on it, so he'd left his car at his house, and he didn't want to call his wife to drive him.

"Are you going to tell me what's up?" Sid asked as our ride pulled into my parking space.

For once, Marigold was not out front waiting to bitch at me when I came home. She was probably off-cackling and gnawing on eye of newt on her broom somewhere. Beckoning Sid inside, I led him through the living room, down the hallway, and into my guest room.

There in all its glory, stood my dungeon.

"Dude," I said, "A dungeon monster stole my car."