Gaming Sessions Gone Wrong

Libertad · Post by **Libertad** » Sat Dec 24, 2011 9:17 pm

"Hate the player, not the game!"

Lurk around on enough Table-top RPG message boards, and you'll find some thread about a guy who went through gaming hell. Maybe the Dungeon Master kept trying to insert his horrible fetishes into the adventure; maybe the Fighter spent all his gold on ale and whores instead of level-appropriate gear. Regardless of the circumstances, we can all relate to having a good game destroyed by douche bags, poor planning, and/or a slew of Natural 1s.

Some time ago I started a thread on the Min-Max boards. http://www.minmaxboards.com/index.php?topic=178.0
It was meant to be a compilation and archive of such games. I hope nobody minds if I start a similar thread here.

Some sample stories:

Spoony's Jyhad, ten minutes into the video. The Spoony One tries to play a game of Vampire the Requiem LARP. Long story short, his character gets rail-roaded and tortured into forcibly converted to Catholicism for not playing the "appropriate character." And nobody told him what was appropriate for the game ahead of time. So Spoony goes Mad Bomber and takes them all out in an ingenious way! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXOJ-3eL7gg

There was a post a saw on 4chan's /tg/ about the ubiquitous annoying Kender PC. For those not in the know, douchebag gamers think that playing a Kender is the perfect excuse to piss off the other PCs by stealing from them.

So the party was on a dungeon expedition to a big underground cave complex. Food and water was scarce, so the party had Rings of Sustenance. And what would you know, the Kender PC steals the Ring from the Paladin and doesn't give it back! Several days later, the Paladin is starving to death, and the Kender "just happens to find it in his pocket." The player insists that his character was absent-minded and forgot to return it, so there should be no hard feelings. Right?

The Paladin reacted in the expected way: he took the ring, put it back on, and killed the Kender right then and there.

Post your own horror stories here, or ones you've heard from friends and fellow online users!

Prak · Post by **Prak** » Sun Dec 25, 2011 9:14 am

A whole collection of such. The author's group is so terrible, I at once question the truth of some accounts, and would rather game with PR, GX and Kaelik than those fucks.

CapnTthePirateG · Post by **CapnTthePirateG** » Mon Jan 02, 2012 12:56 am

Here is PhoneLobster's terrible tale:
http://www.tgdmb.com/viewtopic.php?t=51605

Here's another collection:
http://tgdmb.com/viewtopic.php?t=52061

Libertad · Post by **Libertad** » Mon Jan 02, 2012 1:15 am

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showth ... genumber=1

250 page megathread of crazy shit!

Libertad · Post by **Libertad** » Sat Jan 07, 2012 12:28 am

This story's so bad I have to bring it up here! Hope nobody minds if a cross-post!

Over at the WotC forums, I read a story in the "What's a DM to do?" section. One of the players in the group, who we'll call Gary, was really, really homophobic. I'm talking "gays are abominations in the eyes of the Lord and must be punished!" homophobic. But since the group didn't really talk about homosexuality, they didn't know this about their friend. During the game session, one of the other players, who we'll call Nate, mentioned that his male PC had a boyfriend.

Gary thought that Nate was joking, but quickly took an angry demeanor upon finding out that he was serious. Gary stood up and demanded that the Dungeon Master take action. The DM asked what the problem was. Gary said that sodomy was one of the worst crimes imaginable, comparable only with rape and cold-blooded murder. He insisted that the PCs were supposed to be heroes, not villains, and then quoted some Bible verses in an attempt to support his statements. Nate was visibly upset, and the other players got into an argument with Gary's behavior. Gary slammed his fist down on the table with such force that he injured his hand.

Needless to say, the gaming session ended early.

Ted the Flayer · Post by **Ted the Flayer** » Thu Feb 09, 2012 4:19 pm

What the Christ? Where are these people coming from? I've gamed with my share of assholes, but they were at least socially presentable assholes.

Libertad · Post by **Libertad** » Thu Feb 09, 2012 9:40 pm

These people represent the worst of the worst of gaming fans. Remember that WoW dude who got banned for constantly harassing other players for money, or that Star Wars fanatic who threatened to kill George Lucas? Well, this is what the thread is dedicated to, but in the realm of tabletop gaming:

Halloween Jack's story:

I joined an online Exalted game on IRC. Two of my RL friends were in the game; Josh was an anime dork (and was also the ST), Mark was not.

I was lured into the game with the promise that we played epic heroes. Like playing D&D, except you not only started at high level, but actually had things to do at high-level.

I played a world-weary master thief, Mark played a mighty-thewed warrior. The other PCs were all, as much as I could tell online, total dorks. We tried to play our characters straight--interpret that statement how you will, it applies. Here are some of the things we had to contend with:

1. The ST let another character take a "Minstrels" flaw. The PC was always followed by annoying minstrels, a la Sir Robin. If they were killed, more showed up. Cue a bunch of pointless time-wasting unfunny scenes of PCs pulling weapons from nowhere and bonking minstrels to death.

2. Another PC was always going on about her "bouncies." Yes, her huge anime boobs. I don't know if she took special perks related to them, but there were always stupid Love Hina type jokes surrounding them and it was stupid and the ST was a lonely repellant virgin so he played along with it.

3. I almost never got to use my ninja skills. The other PCs could not conceive of plans beyond "We've located the bad guy's hideout, let's burst through the front door." Good thing I took an artifact weapon to use with all my Martial Arts dots.

4. Our characters met a tribe of Lunars (another type of Exalted, like shapeshifters) and it turns out we somehow discovered ones who had been our characters' spouses in our past lives in the mythical First Age and we regained our memories of it and blah blah. The ST was treating this like a reward. He didn't understand why I didn't want to narrate loving my catgirl sort-of-wife. Who was an unintelligent slut, by the way.

Mark and I dropped out of the game after that.

So yeah, playing Exalted is like foraging for food in the forest. It's not an inherently inimical environment, but a lot of horrible poisonous poo poo takes root in its dank corners.

Etherwind's story:

For years and years my gaming society was really good in terms of composition. We'd have one or two creepy maladjusted people, but the rest were generally good, and anywhere between ten to thirty per cent of the membership would be female (which is quite an achievement for a gaming society with over fifty or more regularly attending members). It was actually so good that when I attended my first ever Student Nationals event and saw what some of the other societies were like I was genuinely surprised and a little bit culture shocked.

Recently, though, things have started to get worrying. We have the aforementioned Exalted group, but they're actually not that bad in comparison to two of the others.

First we have a D&D 3.5 group, headed by an overly-arrogant young dude we'll call Stan. He wears badly tailored frilly shirts and long leather coats like they're the height of fashion (all black, naturally), with long, unkempt hair and a usually unshaven, acne-pitted face with the first hints of neck beard. Stan has a girlfriend who's actually a nice enough girl, underneath, but suffers from having catastrophically low self esteem and daddy issues, to the extent that she adopts a stereotypical, vapid, anime-esque personality and emphasises her tits all the time by wearing ill-fitting corsets and low-cut tops and then vocally commenting on her chest. She thinks the sun shines out of Stan's arse, and thus gets preferential "girlfriend" treatment whenever Stan runs a game. Hopefully I've painted a broad enough picture for you to get their dynamic, and thus how Stan works.

A friend and I once got cornered by Stan and his players one night, after games had wrapped up. I got to hear about his totally awesome D&D campaign that seriously used the Book of Erotic Fantasy so his girlfriend could play a Succubus with appropriate rules, and how one of the other players (massive neckbeard who wore a Prisoner No. 6 shirt every week) was a donkey fucker.

"Donkey fucker?" I couldn't help asking, exchanging worried glances with my mate.

"Oh, it's okay," he said, grinning at the indicated donkey fucker. "He actually got tricked into loving it by another player's illusion spell."

"Right..."

"He actually thought it was a little girl."

At that point my friend, who'd been restraining himself as best he could, launched into a incandescent rant of disbelief, asking "What the gently caress is wrong with you? Are you all 14?" and generally being quite entertaining.

The other bad group hasn't overtly shown their colours, but the warning signs are there. It's a group of five big, hefty guys who sit around a table playing D&D 3.5 by themselves. I've checked, and nobody knows who they are. They just showed up and started playing. We're not even sure if they paid membership fees for the year.

This wouldn't be so bad, and everyone ignored them as being harmless enough, until one of the student union's porters came up and spoke to me.

"Listen, I don't want to cause a fuss, but you guys need to do something about some of your members." He's an old guy, looked after the building for years, and he's the kind of quiet, fatherly dude who might as well be furnishing, he's that much a part of the building.

"Oh, poo poo, what did they do?"

"Well, there was this big group of boys came in, and they were really rude. Didn't say hello, didn't acknowledge me when I asked them for membership cards, were really badly mannered."

"Okay, I'll find out who-"

"That's not the problem. After they passed through the lobby, the smell was so bad I had to spray air freshener and then wash the floor with disinfectant. Can't you tell them they need to shower once a week, or something?"

I hadn't noticed this (like I said, everyone leaves them alone), but I checked with someone else, and yeah, apparently these guys smell like poo poo. They haven't been back since, so nobody has had a chance to talk to them. I am not looking forward to this conversation.

So yeah, I worry for my society, if this is the direction things are going in. They're still in the minority (three out of, what, fifteen groups?), but... gently caress.

Darth Rabbitt · Post by **Darth Rabbitt** » Fri Feb 10, 2012 3:01 am

A friend of mine DMed a game recently, and had mentioned when inviting me that he was considering having something really strange happen to one of the PCs that would take them out of a combat (we had been trying to outdo each other in making memorable campaigns... although this one is now infamous rather than famous among the group,) and so I agreed to it (figuring it couldn't be that bad, and would probably take it the best out of anyone there, since I'd handled strange curses on a character before, and actually roleplayed it fairly well according to the DM.)

What actually happened was that my character (a male Frost Dwarf Ranger) was raped by the evil Long John Boner (coming from an earlier honest (and hilarious) mistake in pronouncing John Boehner's name), the main villain of the campaign (my gaming group's, and especially his, campaigns tend to end up being goofy, immature, and generally really weird... but this was too much even for our group, which the DM admitted later).

Then I failed a Will save and he told me my character liked it, and was now a pregnant female (or was it mpreg? I don't remember anymore), and that's where the campaign really fell apart, with us killing Boner and the queen who had sent us there earlier in the game (which was how it started) and the session ending early.

My character's curse got lifted in the end, but it didn't make me, as the player, feel much better about the matter, as I was more than a little mortified at the fact that someone I'd gamed with since I started the hobby in '04 would do something that extremely bizarre and disturbing to a character of mine.

The DM apologized to me and is still a good friend of mine, so this probably says as much about me as about him.

But I don't think he'll be DMing anytime soon.

Ted the Flayer · Post by **Ted the Flayer** » Fri Feb 10, 2012 4:03 am

Alright, I may have a couple short stories. They aren't as exotic as some of the stories here though.

I had one chick in my group who I will call Roberto, after the stabby robot in futurama. I call her this because she threatened to stab me when we were dating (Note: batshit crazy women fuck better, but it's not worth it if there's even a remote chance of having your ghoulies removed. But on with the gaming story!)

Well, she was a problem player. She played a barbarian who liked to rape male NPCs. I have a problem with rape, but she was letting me play with her giant milk silos after the game so I let it slide. Somehow, she sensed when a given male NPC was powerful enough to merk her character so she never them, which is a pity.

However, when fighting broke out, she would bolt. She would refuse to enter any dungeon and run away from any combat. I made it clear she could do that, but if the other players wanted to kill her character for leaving them to die, then I'd let the dice land where they may.

I found out later she was screwing some other members of the group. When we found out, we decided to cleave to Bros before Hos and booted her out of the group.

The current game I'm playing in is touchy. They guy is a really nice guy and I don't want to hurt his feelings, but my god does his game suck. He keeps randomly changing house rules. I feel that a DM can make whatever house rules he wants (within reason), but they should be spelled out beforehand, and not altered on whim. I feel for him because I made a lot of these mistakes 10-15 years ago in my 2E and 1E games, but his house rules has prevented me from playing the character I want, makes casters crazy overpowered, and causes confusion when the rules of the world change from session to session.

Ted the Flayer · Post by **Ted the Flayer** » Fri Feb 10, 2012 4:12 am

Re: Libertad's link:

LMFAO, I don't know who Donnie is, but I want to recruit him into my group.

Etherwind wrote:I'll try to remember it in full. It's a worst experience, so it fits in here.

A friend of mine, one of my regular players, borrowed my Call of Cthulhu material and decided he was going to run a game at the gaming society we both attend. This was a bad idea for a couple of reasons, the first being that it's hard to do evocative horror when you have a busy, happy background going on around you (unless you're specifically playing up the social alienation angle). The second, and more important, reason it was a bad idea was because he invited Donnie to play.

Donnie is a good guy. I ran a Blue Rose campaign, he played in it, and it was great fun for all involved. However, Donnie is not a subtle guy, and he's not the sort of guy who can experience horror or exercise fearful judgement when it's required. As evidence toward this, when the group was rolling up reasonable, urbane, ordinary Call of Cthulhu characters, he decided to make a doctor.

With maximum ranks in the "headbutt" skill. More points in "headbutt" than he had in "medicine", and his character was a doctor. My friend convinced him to at least make his "medicine" skill equal to "headbutt", and the game proceeded on track.

You know the old saying, "Give a man a hammer, and everything looks like a nail?" Well, when you turn a man into a hammer, the same thing is true. Donnie tried to headbutt everything even vaguely problematic. It started with a door that wouldn't open, escalated to an ATM (which he scored a critical success against, and landed some free cash) and climaxed with him headbutting a skeleton after stumbling out-

Let's wind it back a bit. During the course of the adventure, when they started encountering horrific skeletons that stalked their every move during the night, the party decided to tool up on weaponry. They visited a mall, broke in, and decided to ransack some of the shops to acquire weapons. Someone got a fire axe from a hardware store. Most got guns from a gun store. Donnie, since he liked fireworks, decided to drive to the local mining supply depot while this was happening, and after headbutting his way into a badly locked supply shack he made off with a backpack full of dynamite.

Eventually they tracked the skeletons down to an old well in the back garden of a manor house, and after a bit of research discovered that it had a cursed stone in at the bottom. Being pro-active, Donnie suggested they lower him into the well with a flashlight and his dynamite, and he'd rig it to blow. It sounded plausible, so they lowered him down with the flashlight and a pistol, and waited until he was in place.

Messing around in the thick mud at the bottom, his flashlight soon failed. Not alarmed, Donnie started feeling around to find the cursed stone, and was in the process of feeling its edges when the cursed blood he was sloshing around in began to form into yet more skeletons, as it was so dark down there it might as well be night. A skeleton grabbed the rope and pulled it down, and then began wrestling with him, dragging him into the mud.

Donnie let out a shout. Up at the top of the well, the rest of the party thought he was asking for the dynamite, and tossed it down. Desperately, Donnie began to headbutt the dynamite, hoping to set it off before the skeleton flayed him alive. Cue the following exchange:

"He's taking a long time down there."
"Can you see what's going on?"
"No, my flashlight isn't working."
"Give me those matches."

The player fumbled and dropped the match, and Donnie simultaneously landed a critical hit with his headbutt.

A massive explosion blew the well to smithereens. Rolling on the resistance table, Donnie survived the initial explosion, was thrown several blocks away, and crashed into some lady's house, breaking his legs. Understandably panicked, the lady called an ambulance, and five minutes later it turned up. At this point Donnie regained consciousness, and rather than be taken to hospital, he held the ambulance crew up with his pistol and stole the ambulance.

Meanwhile, a horrible, rapidly decaying, muddy skeleton made from blood and charred, broken stone clawed its way out of the well in the shadow of the (now wrecked) house and began to advance on the party. Cue a massive combat that grew rapidly more tense, until it was interrupted by the sound of...

Sirens? The ambulance crashed through the fence, ran over the skeleton and screeched to a halt. Donnie, his legs broken, staggered out of the ambulance and fell to the ground, right beside the pinned monster. It proceeded to try and grab him, and he responded the only way he knew how.

With a headbutt.

Edit: and remember, it's Doctor McHeadbutt. He worked long and hard for that PhD in Aggressive Phrenology.

Shrapnel · Post by **Shrapnel** » Wed Feb 15, 2012 6:24 pm

A friend of mine DMed a game recently, and had mentioned when inviting me that he was considering having something really strange happen to one of the PCs that would take them out of a combat (we had been trying to outdo each other in making memorable campaigns... although this one is now infamous rather than famous among the group,) and so I agreed to it (figuring it couldn't be that bad, and would probably take it the best out of anyone there, since I'd handled strange curses on a character before, and actually roleplayed it fairly well according to the DM.)

What actually happened was that my character (a male Frost Dwarf Ranger) was raped by the evil Long John Boner (coming from an earlier honest (and hilarious) mistake in pronouncing John Boehner's name), the main villain of the campaign (my gaming group's, and especially his, campaigns tend to end up being goofy, immature, and generally really weird... but this was too much even for our group, which the DM admitted later).

Then I failed a Will save and he told me my character liked it, and was now a pregnant female (or was it mpreg? I don't remember anymore), and that's where the campaign really fell apart, with us killing Boner and the queen who had sent us there earlier in the game (which was how it started) and the session ending early.

My character's curse got lifted in the end, but it didn't make me, as the player, feel much better about the matter, as I was more than a little mortified at the fact that someone I'd gamed with since I started the hobby in '04 would do something that extremely bizarre and disturbing to a character of mine.

The DM apologized to me and is still a good friend of mine, so this probably says as much about me as about him.

But I don't think he'll be DMing anytime soon.

I remember that. I found it amusing, in the same, sick way I enjoy the A-Team. Of course, I wasn't the one getting mpregged or raped, so that might explain it.

Dean · Post by **Dean** » Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:10 am

http://gunshowcomic.com/471

The best

Avoraciopoctules · Post by **Avoraciopoctules** » Wed Mar 14, 2012 5:43 am

Was presented with something pretty amusing the other day, thought I'd quote part of it. Key things to note: problem player story, the game is very lightly reflavored Shadowrun (some minor organizations are different)

Full story's here (warning, this was archived from 4Chan)
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/18228308/

I will forever hold a special place for my GM in the rotten apple core that is my heart over this encounter. He had expected DeadMan to hook up with the main team and, you know, not be terrible, so he had to quickly ad-lib a milk run for DeadMan, basically as a way of gauging if the player could do ANYTHING in Shadowrun right.

So he introduced "Mr. Jackson."

Mr. Jackson was a frat boy. An orc frat boy. He had a baseball cap on and his white polo shirt had its collar popped. He had earrings on the back of one ear. He was wearing overexpensive AR shades, and they were running a porn vid. He was on his fifth Keystone Light by the time he approached Trout.

He was called Mr. Jackson because he forgot what the name that a runner's employer was called was supposed to be.

Jackson: "Yo, wassup homeboyee? You look like a Shadowrunner, and I be needin' a runner for real, dawg."
Trout: "Greetings, employer. Watashi wa Shadowrunner."
Jackson: "Watoshi-what? Dudebro, I don't need no fancy asian shit, I just gots a job that I needs a stone cold killin-ass motherfucker to do, knawmsayin? That you, bruh?"
Trout: "I am indeed a stone-cold killing-ass motherfucker. What is the job?"
Jackson: "I'ma pay you five hundred bucks to totally beat the shit outta this nerdlinger in my econ class."
Trout: "...go on."
Jackson: "There's this douche-[EDITED] named Simon Berckiwitz in my econ class, bruh. Econ 104 was s'pose ta be tight solid, knawmsayin? Just coast on the fuck through and getcha GPA up. But this fucker, he goes to every class and aces every test and it ain't FAIR, yo, the way he be bringin' the bell curve up! The only curve I like is dem tittays, knawmsayin', bruh?"
The GM at this point was pantomiming Jackson's overly macho body language, and clapped DeadMan's player on the back loudly.
DeadMan: "You said it would be 500 nuyen to rough this Simon Berckiwitz up? How much violence constitutes roughed-up?"
The GM made a point to snigger sophomorically at the word "tit" in "constitutes."
Jackson: "He needs to be black and blue and all shades of red, yo. Once he can't walk no more, I wantcha to take a picture of him and send it to my number. I'ma hit you up with my digits now, dawg. No homo. Just send me the pit-tchures when you done goin' down on that guy. No homo. I wire you yer money when you do your services, right, dawg? No homo, cuz I don't take no services from dudes, knawmsayin? This dawg likes the PUSSAY!"
DeadMan: "Kōi ga okonawa remasu. The deed will be done, Johnson-san.

skipping forward a bit, the runner has a change of heart

DeadMan spent his day shadowing the nerd. Man, was Simon Berckiwitz a nerd. Pocket protectors and bowl cuts, dude. Like the polar opposite of Mr. Jackson.

And, at the last moment, inexplicably, he got cold feet and decided that Simon was an innocent man and he would not harm him.

The GM, the other players, and I all have our own pet theories for what the hell happened. I figure he thought playing a morally ambiguous--hell, EVIL--character would be easy, and was having problems with it now. Maybe he thought the job was a trick. There's another hypothesis, that his unwashed player saw a little too much of himself in the nerd.

Point being, a be-tac-suited DeadMan ran up to the nerd and began squealing on the whole plan to him in broken Weeaboo Japanenglish. Try to imagine how you would feel if, walking around campus, a Japanese dude ran up to you in illegal military gear and started screaming about "SIMON-SAN! A FURATTU BOY IS GOING TO BEAT YOU UP!" Yeah, it was kind of surreal. He explained that the evil Mr. Jackson all but DEMANDED that he perform this dishonorable task, but luckily, DeadMan had a devious idea to cheat Mr. Jackson and get out ahead, while not wronging Berckiwitz.

You see, he would go buy some cosmetics (which incidentally cost pretty much the whole reward) and then make Simon up to look like he'd been beaten black and blue. Simon, not wanting to be beaten up by a clearly mentally unstable man, relented.

Problem (in addition to all of the problems inherent in this whole retarded plan, like how it was costing him what he would get back): Trout relied on facial sculpt, melanin control, voice control, and so on to do his disguising for him, so he hadn't actually bought any ranks in disguise. He had 3 dice to it, 1 because he was defaulting.

He rolled a 1. Critical glitch. Simon came out looking like pic related.

Bafflingly, Trout uploaded the pic to Mr. Jackson anyway, figuring that it would "have to do."

What followed was, over the phone, a 19-year-old frat boy explaining runner ethics to a 28-year-old Japanese man.

"Dude, so look. Runnin' ain't about ethics an' bein' good an' evil an' sheeit, it's about doin' the job, yahearme? An' sometimes that job's gunna suck dick, like Tracey in the sorority down the street, yo. Sometimes it's even gunna come back to bite ya ass, like Tracey's herpes. She gave head like a fuckin' angel though, mang, you shoulda been there. Point bein', as a Shadowrunner you don't gots tha chops to turn down a job, homie! Sho you can pick and choose yo jobs comin' in, but once you says "it's on mothafucka," then shit IS on! You gotta do the job, dude! Still, it's not a complete loss cuz I'm sendin' this pittchure to e'ry girl in econ class, but it's the principle of the thing, knawmsayin? You don't get cash if you don't beat up no nerds. Peace out."

The whole thing was pretty memorable, but this stood out, I think. Apparently, there are later entries continuing the story.