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Might as well resurrect this classic thread topic.


Some from my gaming groups...

Conspiracy-X, a surveillance/wetworks cell based in Miami:
"Does anyone have a plan that doesn't involve the importing of Nicuagueran mercenaries?"

"Man, catholic priests weird me out."

(the morning after a sniper botched his stealth check to find a hide during the middle of the night) "You're lying on someones patio. They step outside, see you in your ghillie suit with a barrett and ask if you'd like a coffee."

(same sniper upon later being cornered by several suits with SMGs and pistols) "ITS RAGNAROK TIME!!!"
(cell leader upon hearing that transmission over the radio) "MONKEY-FUCK!"
(undercover operatives upon hearing the above two transmissions) "Fuck."


From another Conspiracy-X game, involving a lot of highranking personnel and many insanely tough hombres, this time set in Seattle:

Cell leader (a CIA director): "Did you fill up that Black Book Army Capt's office with iguanas?"
Navy SEAL: "No." *looking around guiltily*
Cell leader: "Then I don't suppose you also stole that Avenger SAM system that's in the garage?"


*the moment any game starts* Cell leader: "I get a GunStar into position - and no, I don't need to roll for that." (note to readers - this character had Influence 5 and nearly EVERY credential connection. Its hard as hell to deal with this kind of character - he could literally start WW3 and no one would question his orders). For non-ConXers, a GunStar is a large orbital railgun which will take out about a 1 block area.

From a Mage game:

"I push the red button!"
-Seconds later my character unknowingly set events in motion that brought about the apocalypse.


I have to think up some other ones my group had some good ones.

'I very calmly smile at the CEO's bodyguards, put down my gun, and open my jacket, revealing the deadman's switch hardwired into my chest.' - Me, in the very last session of the Shadowrun chronicle our group ran. The deadman's switch was connected to a fusion warhead in the Arcology. Let's just say after thirteen, fourteen missions where the Corporation relentlessly assfucked us, in proper Shadowrun form, we got tired of it and went on a suicide mission to get our own back.

'....My head's gonna explode, isn't it?' - My friend John, whose magic users had a nasty tendency to botch in any kind of game. The 'head exploding' came from the same Shadowrun mission, when he botched a major attack spell and literally exploded.

'Oh my god! That's not a spiked tail!' This story has been told again and again on SDN, but it relates to Dragonstorm, a monster Tev made, and the Bukkake Of Doom.

From a StarGate SG:1 game:
Local chief: "Where are you people from?"
Chris (a moron playing a civvie archaelogist): *snip long detailed diatribe on earth, the stargate, the current events etc*
Another Chris (playing the team commander): *taking him aside* "Just because they ask you a question, DOESN'T mean that you give them classified information."


From a Legend of the Five Rings game:
Me (as an itty-bitty Samurai-Ko deathseeker): "I'm feeling confident." *comes within a cunthair of spattering an ogre in one hit, before being spattered by that ogre and another because no one else on my team but the fucking unarmed monk decided to join the combat*

Andrew (as aforementioned monk addressing a local Crane Daimyo, after an enormous running battle with a large Shadowlands force): "It was only a small undead host commanded by but a loooooowly bloodspeaker. Nothing BIG or WORRISOME sir."

Bice (creating a character - after the first time where he found his family had been disbanded and was a Ronin, then the second game where he created a character only to roll on the heritage table and get a "ronin" result, then on the third character get the same problem): "I've made a monkey clan - wait... Don't tell me... I'm a FUCKING RONIN aren't I?"

"I try to catch the paradox."
"The paradox grows larger."

"What the hell are you, a bard or a monk?" -a warlock after watching my character play a flute, then stand up and beat the hell out of a bugbear.

"Damn, this candle has a short wick."
"I have a short wick!"
"...you spoke faster than you thought, didn't you?"
"...yeah."
-byplay between a ranger and a fighter.

"So the cleric is dead because you made him run into a temple occupied by dozens of pissed-off enemies? You didn't think that spell through, did you?!"
"No!"
-fighter and wizard.

"My name is General Darke."
"Well, that has some dark implications."
"Lay off the dark humor."
"What, and leave it for a darker day?"
"It would've been better if he'd left us in the dark."
"But he's such a dark figure!"
"C'mon guys, it's getting dark outside."
"Enough!"
-our party uses an NPC as an excuse to blow off some steam.

My favourite from the Famous Last Words:

Cleric: Begone! Things of Evil!
TOE: Begone. Thing of Good.

Bad ass, infernally corrupted Assamite shows up.

"I've never killed an Ass-mite before."
-Gangrel player just before he rips the Assamites heart out of his chest with Talons of the Beast.

You asked for it....

From a Mage game. The characters consist of a Euthanatos, 2 Akashics (one 12 years old), a Jewish Choruser, and 2 Orphans (one of them a gamer):

Akashic (after prime scanning my character): "Wait...are you a mage?"
Me: "Mage? What do you think this is, a Black Dog game?"

Akashic master: "Are you ready?"
Me: "Isn't that the purpose of this test?"

GM (about an obviously supernatural NPC): "She's wearing some nice perfume."
Orphan: "The perfume would cover the werewolf scent!"
GM: "...Or she's just wearing some nice perfume."

(The Euthanatos unwittingly activates my character's obsession [gaming], resulting in a several minute chase scene that ends in her running into the Umbra and me standing on the edge of a cliff yelling damage tables at her. The other Orphan then dumps a bucket of water over my character's head)
GM: "Okay, at this point you have a bucket on your head. You stop talking and realize why you have a bucket on your head."

Orphan: "I know you don't care, because you're a gamer, but your clothes are getting pretty grungy."

Orphan: "Why do we need people with sniper rifles in the middle of Vermont?"
Me: "Canadians."

Me: "You know hypnotism doesn't work, right?"
Choruser: "I don't care."

Euthanatos: "So you set yourself on fire, then start collecting weapons you don't know how to use. I like this new side of you, so long as you don't kill anyone else in the process."

(Two of the mages discover a tile puzzle on the floor)
Me: "But...in Latin, Jehovah starts with an 'I'."
Akashic: "Shut up, you're dying over there."

(The Choruser has a backlash that makes him think the rest of the party are angelic beings. Needless to say, the party's actions are far from angelic)
Me: "What are the implications of a fallen muse?"
Euthanatos: "You inspire perversion and debauchery of all sorts."
Me: "That's something that should have been obvious from the beginning. I'm all, 'Debauchery? Where can I get some?'"

Orphan: "See, we don't think the werewolves ended up in-"
Euthanatos: "No, you idiot! Don't tell the elder werewolf how much we don't believe him...shit."

GM: "What's your current paradox?"
Choruser: "...12."
GM: *rolls* "Incorrect. The correct answer is 3. Turn in your character sheet."
Akashic: "Will he get it back?"
GM: "Undetermined."

<Chupa> ok so why the second channel?
[Gaidin] so you and micuu can comment
*** micuu is now known as John
[Gaidin] get used to the idea....this will come in so handy when we have 7 players :p
*** John is now known as John-Madden
<John-Madden> ypu
<John-Madden> you see
<John-Madden> what he did right here
<John-Madden> is run bast the ogre
*** Gwendylyn (~Gwendylyn@oh-bainbridge-cuda1-69-161-209-124.clvdoh.adelphia.net) has joined #ooc
<John-Madden> and attack
* John-Madden highlights ogre with on screen pen
<John-Madden> now, I know dungeons
<John-Madden> and you don't want to do that
*** John-Madden is now known as micuu
<micuu> anyay
<micuu> pot-shots at Madden aside....

----------------------

<Marcina> I wonder how well the tongues aiblity works
<Jhyre> perfectly
[Gaidin] assuming its "activated"
<Marcina> I mean, does she think she's saying "I am a creature of untold passion, pain and pleasure, COWER MORTAL" and it comes out "Sucky sucky, 5 dollah"?
<Jhyre> only centy...

----------------------

I'll have to search for some in game quotes....Jhyre was a succubus PC.

[an entire squad of Jaffa die]
InnocentBystander: Loot the corpses!
[takes six or seven zat'nikatels and vaporizes the bodies]

"Folks, there are four of you trying to hold the line, and seven hiding behind them." - Our DM on our party trying to face Beastmen.

Star Wars RPG (I think it was a Living Force campaign, but don't hold me to that). A new guy was playing a good-aligned Force user, but kept using the force in dark side ways (i.e. telekinetically ripping a stove out of the wall and throwing it down a hallway at a stormtrooper who was trying to run away.) One of the later fights, as we were trying to get into an Imperial base:

Guy: Why don't you just use force lightning on those guards? That would get them out of our way.

Jedi: I don't have force lightning.

DM: (Sinister voice) You could . . . the power is there, you can feel it, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

Jedi: Hmmm . . .

Me: Can I shoot him or something if he starts using lightning? I see where this is going and it's not a nice place.



Dungeons and Dragons, playing a sorcerer who always feels superior to those "Poor, hard working, wizard fellows." We walk into a chamber with runes covering the walls and several summoning circles on the floor.

Me: (Sticking my head in the door) Hmmm, looks like Wizard shit.

Cleric: Do you want to check it out maybe, see if it's dangerous or anything

Me: (Rolled a 1 on spellcraft) Nope, just Wizard shit. Nothing special.



Dungeons and Dragons again, this time playing a Rogue. We were on a mission to check out a group of pirates who were harassing the locals.

Me: (As we approach the lair) Guys, hang back for a minute. Let me go scout ahead and see what we're up against.

(I roll a natural 20 on move silently and a natural 1 on hide)

DM: Silent as the wind, you edge closer to their encampment. As you crest the last dune, the setting sun outlines you perfectly to the sentries who happened to be looking up at that moment. One runs inside shouting for reinforcements, while the other two charge you.

Me: Crap.

GM: you find yourself trapped in a room, with absolutely no way out. You and your horse are there. A booming voice can be heard.
"BE A ROHIRRIM"

ME: Be a rohirrim...what do rohirrim do...well, we ride horses....okay, I mount my horse and charge the wall.

GM: Very well. you charge the wall on horseback. Your horse is now dead, and you have broken ribs. A fair imitation of a dumbass, actually.


That's the condensed version. I ommitted the dice rolling, missed saving throws, etc. as it it was very sad.

(Somewhere In The Mid-Levels...)
Monk: We just killed a Dragon. I don't believe how utterly badass we are.
Sorcerer: It was barely even a Young Adult! That isn't badass, it's just robbing the cradle.
Fighter: Yeah... now when we're legendary heroes, there will be one less Awesomely Gigantic Dragon to defeat. On the plus side, one princess that would be captured will be free that night.

(I had been playing a spellcaster-type character in an OA Campaign, and was caught in melee with an ambushing group of bandits.)
Me: *Rolls two twenties and an 18* *strangled exclamation*! I wasted that against a group of bandits?!
DM: All right... um, you decapitate him with the War Fan.
Me: Who's using a girlish weapon again?

Fighter: Let's go find an old man.
Sorcerer: What?
Fighter: Hasn't anyone ever told you? Wherever there's an old man, there's a quest.

Cleric: We obviously need to destroy this Artifact.
Me: [DM's name]?
DM: I'm not going to say anything.
Cleric: That confirms it. We're off to Mount Doom.

Okay, I was running a scene in a sci-fi universe I can garauntee only three of you have heard of, and it went roughly thus: Raiders have captured a bulk freighter owned by an independent organization, and the players involved were an Australian Marine force sent in to retake the ship. Two of them come wearing full powered battle armor, really more like a Gear from Heavy Gear than a battlesuit. The others board a hostile-controlled starship...in combat fatigues. Fast foreward a bit. One of the two Marines in powered armor hits his jump gear to dodge some incoming fire. In the middle of a cramped corridor. Fails a check and slams into the ceiling, rebounds, and slams into the floor. Fast foreward again...and this is the bad one. Several of the crew are tied up on the deck, and one of the raiders is about to start killing them, standing in the middle of them with a gun...so one of the unarmored marines tries to take him out. With a grenade launcher.

Anyway, by the time it was all over, the marines are all dead or out of action, including the ones in powersuits, and the raiders are all dead or fatally wounded. The owner of the ship then sent his own forces in to finish retaking it. Most pathetic thing I've ever seen. Not so much sonething that was said, but just the mounting sense of incredulity as the night went on.

Again, it doesn't get better than the DQ dragon incident (I've posted that a couple of times aready, but never in quote form).

Dragon ambushes party (one PC plus four or five NPCs). Predictably, everyone panics and bolts, except the PC's horse got knocked over and she got unhorsed.

Dragon: "You can surrender now and I *might* let you live..."
Miriel: "Yeah, sure." *waves claymore* "You just want me to drop this so I won't hurt you."
Dragon: "Have it your way, insolent mortal!" *attacks and misses*
Miriel: *THWACK* *SPLAT* *WHACK* "Take that!"
Dragon: *backs up, crippled in one leg and sliced open at the chest* "Exactly WHAT kind of a human are you?!!" (GM's note: the thing went down to around 20 endurance from a start value of over 70, fatigue intact at 160. At normal rates of healing, it'd take five months to recover...)
Miriel: *shocked at still being alive* "Do you want to try that again?" (GM's note: It's all bravado at this point)
Dragon: "Not really..."

*a few hours later*

*Miriel rejoins the NPCs after tracking them down*
Miriel: "There you are! I was afraid I'd never find you guys again!"
Mage: "Miriel! You got away! Yay!"
Fighter: "We thought you were a goner for sure! Welcome back!"
Ranger: "Boy am I glad to see you!"
Fighter: "How'd you get away from that monster? Is it after you?" *looks around nervously*
Miriel: "No, it's not. And I didn't exactly get away from it..."
Party:
Miriel: "Say hello to my new friend..." *dragon drops its invisibility spell and limps into the clearing*
Party:

I have never had as much fun having all of my dastardly plans turned completely upside down as I had that time. It was supposed to be a cakewalk for the dragon to knock the party around a little, capture them and force them into its service (it needed a bunch of competent killers to get rid of a wizard who had it enthralled by its True Name). It had the advantage of surprise (from invisibility, no less) and ambush, a massive repertoire of spells, it was physically tougher than the party and its horses combined twice over and it was in its own territory. So, what happens?

This little 19-yeal old slip of a girl (the PC Miriel) very nearly puts it out of commission in literally ten seconds and turns the tables so that the dragon had to actually bargain for its own life (it was the only smart thing for it to do in light of the asskicking it had just suffered). The whole incident ended with the PC becoming the first new Dragonlord in 5000 years and from that moment on she was the unquestionable leader of the group. And of yes, they killed the wizard soon after and Miriel gained some more Name-bound servants from that, but it's another story...

Edi

Okay, so this group I was playing with has never really been known for having serious D&D games (content-wise) except for the DM (who I never met before) and a friend of his (also who I never met before). So, my friend was playing as a really kickass fighter ... except for the fact that he had pathetic dexterity (a massive 9), his friend was playing a gnome druid, his girlfriend was playing a half-elf druid, the guy I never met was playing Neo reincarnated into a rouge with a bow and I was playing as a senile, middle-aged druid with a dire spider as an adopted brother and who thought the trees were out to get him.

So, the first thing that happens in our little adventure is that our entire party gets imprisoned in this deep, dank dungeon without any weapons and only burlap sacks on our bodies. When everyone wakes up we start formulating our escape plan ...

Me: Okay, I take off my sack and start urinating on it. (My plan was to bend the bars with the wet sack ALA Jackie Chan in Shanghai Noon)
Half-Elf: Ewww! I bash him in the back of the head with this bed leg. (Several of them had ripped up the bed for wooden clubs)
DM: *laughs* Okay, you knock him out. He's now passed out in a puddle of his own urine and a sack.
Me: Damnit!

A little while later the gaurds come in to take us off some place. While they were opening the door one of them gets eaten by some amorphous blob thing in another cell. Two of the gaurds started back into our cell and we attack them. My friend, the not-so-dexterous fighter, gets within grappling range (and fails to actually do anything) with one of the gaurds ...

Me (after having finally woken up): I whip my urine-soaked sack at the guard's head.
DM: High or low?
Me: Uh, what?
DM: High or low?
Me: High. *rolls, gets high number and hits*
DM: Okay, the sack whips around the guard's head, narrowly missing the fighter, with enough force to make it a tight mask. He starts clawing at it to get it off his face.
Gnome Druid: I attack his crotch.
DM: What? Fine. Roll for it.
Gnome: *rolls and criticals*
DM: Ouch! Okay, you hit his crotch with enough force to cush his pelvis. The only thing you hear from the guard is a muffled "Mrruph!" (the guard puked with the sack still wrapped around his head) and he falls over, not moving anymore.

Later on, when we got our armor and weapons back and having gone through this hallway that kept changing gravity on us (the door at the end would suddenly be the bottom, etc.) and we ended up on the roof. As we opened the door we came across this salt mine filled with slaves ...

Me: (shouting at the top of his lungs) YOU ARE FREE MY BROTHER AND SISTERS!
DM: You hear this voice at the back of the cavern shout "WHO SAID THAT?!"
Me: YOUR MOMMA!
DM: You actually say that? Oh, man. You see this big guy come walking around the corner. He's a half-black dragon and he's pissed off, shouting "What'd you say about my momma?!" Roll for initiative.

After having fought the half-dragon guard captain for a while (and getting our pasty rumps handed to us) the clumsy fighter, who had missed pretty much every roll in combat or otherwise relating to dexterity, gets the idea in his head to use his grappling hook to pull down a section of roof over the half-dragon's head.

DM: Okay. Roll for it.
Fighter: *rolls and gets a natural 20*
DM: What the Hell? Okay, it sails up there and sticks perfectly.
(A little combat later, my friend's turn comes up again)
Fighter: All right. Time to pull it down. *rolls and gets another natural 20*
DM: What the Hell are you, Superman? You start off as Clark Kent, completely unable to hit a thing and now you're pulling this stuff?!

After a lot more fighting and some narrow escapes we end up in town. My character gets reunited with his adopted brother spider and everyone decides to go to the local bar for more info and to plan on what to do next.

Me: I got up to the bartender and say "Can I get a glass of milk?" (Mind, this is a tavern full of toughs and such and the bartender in question is one of the roughest you'll find)
DM: The bartender gives you a funny look and says "All right." He then walks out into the ajoining bar and milks a goat in a cup and the puts it on the counter saying "That'll be three copper pieces."
Me: "Why thank you, good sir!" Then I go out and feed it to my brother spider. He loves milk.

After a little more talking ...

Me: I go up to the bartender again and say "Can I get a glass of sparkling mineral water?"
DM: What the Hell is wrong with you? Fine. The bartender then goes back into the barn and fills the cup with the water from the animal trough, with lots of animal goobers and random other things. Then he gives it to you saying "Three copper."
Me: I down the cup in one gulb, smack my lips and say "Thank you! That was delicious!" (Hey, he grew up in a cave with a dire spider. What else would he like? It's just like home!)
DM: The bartender looks at the trough and says, quietly "Hmm. I'll have to try that sometime."

Playing a campaign of Mage. Two euthanatos, and an Akashic, and a Son of Ether. My brother and I are playing the Euthanatos. We are breaking into a mansion to kill a person who we have intel that he is a leader of a rather bad orginization which deals with child pornography, murder, etc. and so forth.

Getting in isn't a problem, my brother causes a short to the gates and they fly open. Then one of the others creates a field around us so we can drive into the property without being seen. We get to the door and my brother does a "What are the chances that the door isn't locked. Succeeds and we waltz in. We then split up to find the guy. I'm with the Ether, my brother with the Akashic. My team head right and enters some library with a television to find some guy sitting on the couch, having a drink.

Me: Hmm, must be some kind of guard. We'll need a distraction to slip past him. Ok, I'm gonna make him choke on his drink. *Make roll, succeed*
GM: Ok, *makes a few rolls, eyes go wide, makes a few more rolls. Slaps forehead* Alright, the man takes another drink from his cup and begins coughing. He gets to his feet, seems to pause for a few seconds, and then falls over on the ground.
Ether: Oh shit! I go over to check the body.
GM: He appears dead, and it was the guy you were after.
My character pulls out his phone and calls the other Euthanatos.
Me: Uh, I got him.
Brother: Got who?
Me: The guy we were after.
Brother: Ok, how.
Me: Choked him.
Brother: You choked him?!
Me: No, he choked on his drink.
Meanwhile the Son of Ether decides to check him out more closely, and discovers that he was a powerful fomori.

As it turns out, the GM rolled to see how well he dealt with the choking on the drink and botched. So the guy can't breath. He decides to go into his other form so he won't have to worry about breathing. Double botch. The stress of choking on his drink and failing his change so utterly killed him.

Later on we go to McDonald's where they were having their Monopoly thing going on. We get meals and the two Euthanatos decide to "try their luck." My brother wins the ski-doo. I roll and get 5 successes. I gain 3 points of Paradox and end up with both the million dollar stamps coming from the same box of fries.

I can't really provide quotes as I don't feel like looking through the chat logs, but some of the highlights of various nights of roleplaying.(P.S. It's free form)

A player decided to play spiderman and attacked another character who was playing a homebrewed character. The victim shoots out a webstrand as spiderman swings by, renders him unconscious and kidnaps him. The following night spiderman wakes up strapped to a chair. They proceed to remove his leg and beat him senseless with it.

Flying hummers landing on the villain from nowhere.

Having a gunship convert into a giant set of speakers and the player, Buzz, start posting Pfunk lyrics during a multifaction battle.

Confusing a jug of monkey semen with milk and not being informed of its true nature until the player already took a slug of it.

The 'Bjoiner!' battle cry

Ok, I'll bite. A D20 Modern-powered XCOM game, set during UFO: Enemy Unknown. The PCs included a jarhead, a martial artist (who couldn't use a gun), and a scientist who somehow ended up in the field (and was later chucked out an airlock by the first two).

GM: Alright, you guys are gearing up as the Skyranger circles around to land near the crashed UFO. Who's on point?

Me (somewhat sardonically): Master Sergeant Smith volunteering to kick some slimy ass, sir!

GM: Alright, the jarhead's on point.

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.

The Skyranger landed, the ramp came down, and the jarhead lead out the team of rookies (according to XCOM). The squad split up and started sweeping around the UFO (most veterans of the computer game should know this tactic) when they got shot at.

GM: Alright, everyone roll initiative.

I was last to grab a die, so I had to wait.

Me: Here I go... (rolls a 19) Rock on! 25!

Got a dirty look from the GM - the other PCs had rolled in the high teens, the squaddies 15 or so, and the aliens sub 10.

GM: (muttering) Ok, who's doing what?

Me: I see four aliens, right?

GM: Yup.

Me: Drop to one knee, brace the rifle, and put a three round burst into the nearest two.

GM: Alright... roll it..

Me: (rolls two natural 20s)

GM: Jesus christ shit a brick! (I go to roll damage, but he stops me) Alright... they're fucked like ducks...

The rest of the squad didn't go as spectacularly (although the martial artist did score an impressive kill with a mop handle), but we got ourselves the upper hand, and the aliens managed to miss by miles.

Next combat round...

GM: Alright.. what's the jarhead doing?

I figured I was on a roll, so half-jokingly,

Me: 3 round burst into the heads of the nearest two aliens still standing.

GM: Ok.. take a -6 penalty and roll it.

Me: (rolls a 19 and then the third natural 20 of the fight, both being critical hits)

Me: They fucked as well?

GM: Like ducks.

The rest of the engagement was mopping up, as the aliens had been demoralised by the pasting handed out by the PCs.


Later, back at CENTCOM in the Himalayas, they were finally getting the tour that had been interrupted by the scramble.

Passing by one of the gardens in the complex, the tour guide asked the squad what they were for.

Me (in char): At a guess, so oxygen can still be generated when the power goes out.

Mophandle's player: This one's a smart jarhead... let's keep this one!

well... ignoring "you had to be there" stories like Face-eating Jack/Flower (a multiple personality character I inherited from somebody else in a GURPS Cyberpunk game)... I might not have much... there's a couple from my last D&D game that might be good... I was playing a half-orc fighter with a 16 intelligence and an unnatural obsession with ham sandwiches and an old-fashioned code of honor...

GM: you walk up to the cleric, pay him a couple gold, and BWOOP!, you're healed.
Me: bwoop?

Me, later, in the "what we learned today" session at the end of the day for extra experience: when clerics heal you, they go "BWOOP!"

TJ (sorceror/party leader): I'll give you five gold to go over and take that guy's ham sandwich
Scott (female elf necromancer): alright... I go over and take his sandwich
Me: but... ham... why?

later in the same incident...
TJ: you're gonna take that from a wench?
Me: my character grabs a random tankard of ale, chugs it, walks over to the bar, and knocks TJ's character out.
TJ: why me?
GM: ::makes note to do nasty things for drinking a random drink::

the party is in a big room with tunnels going in all four directions...
GM: so which way do you go?
::assorted infighting goes here::
Me: um... why don't we just... split up and take a look down the entrance of the tunnels before we decide?
TJ: holy shit, the orc actually had a good idea!
GM: since when do you act your intellgence?

Scott and Kennedy (a random idiot badly playing the female elf paladin character left over from a player who's left the game) are both hanging out in the obligatory tavern/inn
Kennedy: Scott's character is a chick?
Scott: duh!
Kennedy: oh, then I, uh, start hitting on her... ask her to join me in my room upstairs
GM: you do know that YOU'RE a chick, don't you?
Kennedy: so?
GM: ok... you both go up to your room...
Scott: I tie him up on the bed and take off his clothes... then stick that strange metal staff I found in the dungeon up his pussy and yell "LIGHT!"
GM: just like the guy at the magic shop told you, it starts glowing... it also starts making a strange humming sound...

I won't get into Julio, God of the Underdog, or the dwarf with string...

Here's three that I remember, albeit not actual quotes...

1) "Shut Up Bitch!" - the name of my red half-dragon
2) World Sky King - the name of a dwarven Wiz1 who fought a tournament with his bare hands but did not have Improved Unarmed Strike... I booked him anyway.
3) The story of Queerion Straightwood - it involves an open field, a pair of pointy rods and penetration. Oh, and fluid. That's all my brain lets me remember.

No, no, no. The best tabletop RPG quote ever was published in Palladium sourcebooks of a certain vintage, and shared the wisdom of Eric Wujcik with us all.

'I use experience point systems as I find them both realistic and accurate.'

Even in highschool this got laughs. I can't remember the number of times getting in pub fights increased my net admin skills - and in hard, ever-diminishing quantities! Eric Wujcik (responsible for the most poorly edited sourcebooks ever, where later editions often fixed some typos, and REINTRODUCED OLD ONES) has obviously had a very, VERY strange life.

From Gamma World. Our party for some reason were to kill a town leader. Unfortunately for the leader he didn't last too well since he had a severe form of epilepsy. He had a 80% chance of going into a seizure when not in combat and over 90% chance of going into a seizure when in combat.

The Town Leader: "I have no time for you. Prepare to ---urrk!" (goes into a seizure and the party just stands over him and takes turns stabbing him.