Christi DiFrank

Donut is so....she's a cat. She's a princess. She's a spoiled brat. She's a beautiful precious baby. She's actual royalty. She was born yesterday. She's a full grown adult. She's Carl's best friend. She's his partner in crime. She loves getting lap dances. She frequents the Penis Parade. She's incredibly cunning. She's a child actress. She's a revolutionary. She reads people for filth. She's a mother to a dinosaur. She helped incite a civil war. She's orchestrating a genocide on cocker spaniels. She cannot sing to save her life. She's a cult leader. She's incredibly witty. She does not think ahead. She's a master manipulator. She's a diva. She's the queen of suppressing emotion. She is the epitome of a cat.

The most realistic thing about Dungeon Crawler Carl is homie saying he needs to preserve his 10 cigarettes and then running out 4 days in

One of the things that impressed me the most about Dungeon Crawler Carl (mind you, I went in with zero expectations) is that not only it manages to turn a talking cat into fully realized, complex character who is still unmistakably *a cat*, but also that the cental relationship of the series - this kind of strong, unshakable bond between the main characters that never fails to make you emotional over how much they mean for each other - is unmistakably a relationship between a man and a cat. Not just nominally, but in a way that is instantly recognizable for anyone who ever owned and loved a cat. And mind you, it's not for the lack of other relationships - Carl finds new friends and comrades, and each of them is important for him in their own right, but still THE most important person in his life is a cat and as a cat person I think that's beautiful