Hotfoot: That one was good.
Setting: fantasy.
"
Fuck! I can't fucking deal with another goddamn dragon right now. *sigh* Oh well, just have to kill it, then..."
--Micke, shortly before bagging another (yes, ANOTHER!) dragon
Setting: TWILIGHT 2000. Two german mercenaries are hired to liberate the presidential family of a random banana republic. The compound is breached silently, but the moment we're inside, things start going to hell in a handbasket. My character, Günther, is suddenly cursed by a random deity and becomes a walking bullet attractant. He's holed multiple times, and slumps to the ground. Not to be deterred, he bandages his wounds and goes to look-see.
(several gunshots are heard)
Günther: "Heinz, I zink zere is somevun in ze tower." (said in a horrendously bad german accent)
Heinz: "Vhy vould you say zat?" (ditto)
Günther: "Because he just shot me zrough ze left shoulder!"
Heinz: "Oh vell. Hold on, Günther, I'll deal viz him!"
(Heinz moves swiftly to a firing position, and discharges several mags of high-caliber ammo, turning the tower to swiss cheese in the matter of moments. He follows up with hosing the surroundings and finishes with a rifle grenade.)
Heinz: "Gunther, I zink I got him!"
(another gunshot is heard)
Günther: "Vell, Heinz... you may be mistaken."
Heinz: "And vhy is zat?"
Günther: "Because he just shot me zrough ze right shoulder!"
Setting: A cyberpunk world with big guns and concrete megacities.
GM (me): "Daniel, you're running along the street. You don't have much of a clue where the shooter is... but there's a thin red dot of light shining into your eyes from the farther end of the street."
Daniel: "Really? I stop and have a look..."
(Blammo. Character's head turns to bloody mist. That may in fact be the stupidest thing I've ever seen a player do...)
Setting: fantasy game. The experienced PCs are displaced evil overlords, who have hired a new PC, Stiehl, as a guide along a river. Stiehl is a real slimy piece of work, and a diplomat without peer. He's also very composed, which he needs to in the company of the severely psychotic group he now serves. He doesn't really know who the characters are - he just knows they're powerful and secretive (the group knows better than to announce their names, as they're number one on the hit lists of five countries and the largest church around). On the ship travel, among others, Esel the (arch-)demon mage, Gemmel the (arch-)mage and sword master, their retainers... and the most infamous creature on the continent, the old master of Esel and Gemmel... Lord Karondrik of Nordmark, executed by the church of the Illuminated Path and risen from the dead.
Stiehl: "Okay, nice boat."
Gemmel: "Thank you. We prefer permanency."
Stiehl: "So, you're traveling upriver? Heading for the, uh, 'sacred place' the locals talk about?"
Esel: "If you can't find it..."
Stiehl: "That won't be a problem. Anyway, where can I bunk?"
Gemmel: "Well, the ship's big, but not too big. We really only have one bunk left, so you get to sleep in the prow cabin."
Stiehl: "Wow, thanks..."
Stiehl exits belowdecks, leaving Esel and Gemmel chuckling quietly amongst themselves.
Belowdeck it's quite spacious, and from the outside it appears that the prow cabin has to be pretty large. Stiehl calmly opens the door, enters, and pauses in the doorway, taking in a rather strange sight. The room is devoid of any furniture. There are seven people here. Six black-cloaked robed people stand in the middle of the room, encircling a decaying corpse that lies arranged in a classic "fallen knight" pose. Standing at the head of the corpse is a shadow-shrouded man with glowing red eyes that positively exudes malice. The room is cold - cold enough that Stiehl's breath forms near-opaque clouds... and he seems to be the only one breathing inside the room.
"Ahem... pardon my intrusion, I must have taken a wrong turn," Stiehl says in his most polite tone of voice. Dread lord Karondrik shakes his head, equally polite in his disagreement.
"Oh no, please... step right in, step right in. There's not a living soul in here..."
Gemmel's player starts chuckling. "He's so sick... I knew he would say that the minute I set Stiehl up."
Setting: near-future cyberpunk. Players are three hoodlums from Manchester, stoners and degenerates, who've just teamed up with a highly dangerous and nigh-indestructible cyborg with anger management problems. Working for a guy named Mikey (who in turn works for the russian mob), they're given the task to retrieve a briefcase stolen by Mikey's underling.
After an excessively violent entry (the cyborg just smashing the door in and shooting everyone except the thief) the foursome start interrogating Mikey's former employee. It turns out that they're really not doing anything other than what Mikey says. In fact, Mikey seems to be planning to have the players bring him the briefcase secretly and then to kill them, so the russians will lose track of said briefcase without Mikey being blamed. This pisses the cyborg off. In homicidal rage, he begins beating the shit out of Mikey's underling (who, might I add, was actually on the players' side after all), and pulls a grenade.
Player: "See this? You want some of this?" (to GM) "I pull the primary pin and shove it down his throat."
GM: "Uh... okay." (considers) "It's too big, it won't fit inside his mouth."
Player: "Really?"
GM: "Yes, really."
Player: "Oh." (pauses) "Ok, I beat him up some more instead."
GM: (rolls) (rolls) (rolls) "You... hit him in the face. Critical damage." (pauses) "Holy shit. You shatter his jawbone with one punch."
Player: "Can I fit the grenade into his mouth now?"
GM: "Well... yeah."
Player: "Good. Then I put it in, pull the pin and toss him out the window."
GM: "..."
The other player characters are already in the stairwell. They hear a crash of shattering glass, and a choked-out cry that is abrubtly cut off by a muffled explosion. They exit the building to see a facade sporting a shattered window, a spray-painting whose epicentrum is directly below, and a headless corpse lying on the sidewalk. The three hoods just stand there, gaping, as the cyborg exits and glances at the scene. The cyborg shrugs and looks at the others.
"Say, you guys're sick."
