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JonathanO

Players say the funniest things

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Carcosite

During a Gaslight gentlemanly discourse at the club...

 

Laurence "Yes he's an excellent solicitor, very thorough, even for a hun, takes his time now mind after he had an eye bitten out by an invisible sea lamphrey!"

 

During a Dotger Ooo game, host out of character

Ian "Shall we have our cake before going into battle?"

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Drhoz

Evening's Cthulhu was supposed to be a playtest of a scenario set in 1930s Soviet Russia, but I faced a player mutiny unless I continued with the regular campaign. I couldn't run the Classic Era homebaked adventure I had ready as a back-up, since it's Boston-based and I'm saving that for Amy's visit to her parents. Happily, however, I had notes ready for a third game, ripped off from one of Theodore Sturgeon's astoundingly good short stories.

 

It was set in New York, so it was easy to fit into their return trip to Massachusetts, since Rondale wanted to report to Agent Landing at ONI, & Dr von Habsburg & Guiliano live in NYC anyway.

 

And the fact that the story has a medical hook made it even easier - a fellow medico wanted to consult regarding a nasty case of multiple broken bones that happened whilst the young man was walking down the hall of his apartment. And keep on happening, even when he's at hospital or being wheeled around on a stretcher. And there's all the other haemorrhaging & necrosis & adhesions, it's been going on for months, and it's killing him by inches. The stress isn't doing his doctor or brother any good either

McGinty
: Sounds like he was beaten up

Rondale
: *
darkly
* Yes, and we all know you're the expert when it comes to savage beatings.

The Doctor sends Paddy McGinty and the brother across town for fresh canteloupe, just to get him out of the house whilst he calls in more specialists.

McGinty
: We're off to fetch the

Investigations uncover the claim that last year the young man got a girl 'in trouble'. This euphemism confuses McGinty & Rondale for a moment

Rondale
: When you get people in trouble, McGinty, they don't end up pregnant!

McGinty comes home with a bottle of fine whiskey. Don't bother asking where from, it's as if the stuff gravitates towards him. He's a bottomless black hole for booze, dragging anything alcoholic to its inevitable doom.

McGinty
: I'm all for the sharing

Me,
GM
: Can I get an acting check for that bare-faced lie?

McGinty
: We'll put the bottle on the table and go 'supper's on'

The Amazing Julius has a plan. There's still a few holes in it.

The Amazing Julius
: I'm stuck at Step 1) Go to speakeasy. Step 2) ??? Step 3) Profit!

Unfortunately, their target is too dim to even recognize the bait.

The Amazing Julius
: I collect things. To sell. From overseas.

Charity
:
*looks blank*
What, like from Canadia?

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Oneon

Happened last week. Had me reeling.

(referring to 2 old women the party had overheard gossiping while in a diner)

 

Shannon: Maybe I could show a little leg, think it'll help?

Joe: Yeah, that always gets the old ladies talking.

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Asenath

We had like the weirdest scene ever during our last game.

 

Erwin (not Edwin, as I had previously misheard) had been studying the notebook the mad professor gave him, keeping it secret from prof. Bates, an older professor and his sort-of mentor. The notebook turned out to be something called the Pnakotic Manuscripts, translated into German which Erwin couldn't really read since his German was like 15%. So on one beautiful afternoon, our academics hear someone at their door and Erwin, remembering that the mad prof had persuaded him to give him his key, hides in the bathroom. What's worse, Erwin had not actually corrected the mad prof., who took he was prof. Bates, so now that the mad prof. meets the real professor Bates, he's furious and thinks there's an impostor around. Meanwhile, Erwin panics in the bathroom.

Erwin's player: "Okay, so is there like anything where I could hide the notebook? Or a way for me to get out? Or... anything?" *fails his Spot Hidden and idea rolls*

Keeper: "No, not really. There's a window, but there's no way you'd fit through it."

So what does Erwin do? He starts to rip out pages from the Pnakotic Manuscripts and flush them down the toilet. As soon as the mad prof. hears the sound, he breaks down the bathroom door and rushes in. Erwin is terrified now - for a reason - so he tries, as a last-minute resort, to hide the notebook by stuffing it down his pants. The mad prof. beats him up a little and, after prof. Bates convinces him that such violence is not very gentlemanly, drags him out and tells him to get the notebook from his pants.

Erwin: "It's not in there, I'm just excited!"

 

...Yeah. We all agree that we will never, ever let Erwin near the Necronomicon.

 

Also, professor Bates was the first to get any Mythos knowledge after he read the notebook with his much better German. Unfortunately, at the end of the game Erwin returned all zombie-like to their hotel room and started strangling him with a tie. (We have no idea what's up with that.) Instead of running away, professor Bates decides to fight back and try to talk sense into Erwin, which eventually lead to his untimely demise. His explanation? "A proper WASP doesn't run away!"

 

I'm starting to think my jazz singer has the best odds at survival, and she was attacked by a creepy crawly thing with the face of her landlord in the middle of the night, and said landlord now thinks their house is possessed. Léonide invited Dr. John to investigate, and as I asked if he could say anything right away...

Keeper: "He can't say anything yet. He's good at his job, but he's not Armitage."

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Cole

Investigators are questioning the principal of a school about recent psychotic outbursts of several students of Draper Grammar School. He's getting a bit defensive and worried that the school's reputation is at stake . . .

 

Principal: Draper is a fine institution whose graduates have gone on to become captains of industry, noted scholars, successful professionals --

"Mashed Potatoes" (hobo PC): Indeed, I myself am a Draper graduate.

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Drhoz

Before Saturday's game one of the players apologised in advance that he would probably be missing the session. I said that was fine, i structured my campaign for one adventure per session for that very reason.

 

Me : Investigators usually have real jobs they can't avoid, anyway.

He : And it's Call of Cthulhu. It's entirely believable they'd go "I can't take this anymore" and go home.

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Skyman

From 'Must the Show go on."

 

The Manager runs up to the players(one of them is a doctor) to wake them from temp insanity(faint).

Player one(Doc): Pardon me. The show was great but that last part when tapestry came down was hard on my eyes. Very atrocious. I really couldn't take it anymore. My fashion taste has its limits and my constitution could not bare it anymore.

Player Two(antiquarian): No, no, no you must be mistaken my brother. The textile was amazing and breath taking. I was obviously awestruck by the magicians taste in the eastern asiatic arts and decore. The Tapestry just put his collection beyond my wildest dreams. Obviously I fainted out of pure Godsmack. I must ask the magician where he had gotten them...

Player one: I beg to differ my brother. The gaudy design and the flagrant disregard for complimentary colors cannot be forgiven. The design or symbol or whatever that thing is on the tapestry is terrible...

Player two: You see I'm the expert at these things my brother. This is something that only a person with a full appreciation of the antiquities can grasp. You obviously are not qualified to comment. Please beg his pardon manager.

Player one: Pffft...

Manager: Umm I need your services somebody is hurt.

Player one:oh yes right

Player two: See now your opinion matters

 

 

From 'Cracke DCrooked Manse'

Player one: Oh damn it's coming through the wall.

Player two: I got a bottle of alcohol.

Player one: Give it to me. I'll take my tampon and stuff it in the opening and use it as a molotov cocktail.

player two: what?!

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Eryx_UK

From Tell Me, Have You Seen The Yellow Sign? The characters have lots of potential leads but no one has thus far gone to the most obvious route for information.

 

Player A: What are you waiting for?

Player B: I was waiting for things to get more... sinster.

Player A: More sinister? What else do you want? Fluffy bunnies?

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magicwookie

The players had just discovered that the Water Horse / Lloigor "feed" on extremes of emotion.

 

Major Forbes: "We will be perfectly safe. We are English. We do not have extreme emotions."

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radarinjection

We havent actually played yet, but here's a sort of hypothetical we ended up with when i mentioned i was worried to a friend of mine that he and the other players might not be too into the investigations for our first scenario:

 

Me: "Okay, you see a Hallway to your left and a Doorway to another room to your right--"

Him:"F*** both of those, where's Cthulhu?"

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Drhoz

Investigating the Mythos is emotionally trying.

 

Amy
: The Mythos made McGinty that way!

Me,
GM
: It could also have been the obscene alcohol intake.

Dr von Habsburg claims ignorance

 

Dr vH
: You didn't tell me anything!

The Amazing Julius
: Sure I did. I told you McGinty's friends are sick ****s

Rondale, under advice from Dr von Habsburg, has changed his insomnia prescription to one of the new German wonderdrugs. They invent a lot of tranquillisers, those Germans.

 

Rondale
: They're such a happy, upbeat people. They need downers.

Amy is sharing a flat with Lucy Smith, who's behaviour has become increasingly odd since the events in Innsmouth. For one thing she keeps checking herself in the mirror and asking if her eyes are getting bigger.

Rondale
: Eyes getting bigger? Tell her not to worry - I find that attractive in a woman.

Amy chokes for bit, and decides not to tell Rondale what they knew about Lucy's ancestors. He has a long history of killing Deep One hybrids, after all.

 

No room in a roofspace, and Guiliano is reluctant to even climb in there.

TAJ
: I'm the magician, not the assistant

To a helpful vet

TAJ
: How long can a rabbit go without breathing?

Having earlier damned themselves by not getting their statements to the police straight beforehand, they carefully come up with a story beforehand this time - they're health inspectors from the CDC investigating possible disease risks seeping from an empty warehouse.

 

Amy
: Telling them both the same story

TAJ
: *
heavy irony
* What a radical concept!

Breaking in to the building they now suspect is the source of alcoholic run-off

Amy
: You know, this is the kind of situation I wish McGinty was here for.

Rondale
: Yes, I can picture him now - head out the window, mouth open catching the drops.

 

Events ensue whilst the party explores

Amy
: What happened? What happened?

Rondale
: Nothing, honestly, you don't want to know, I've dealt with it.

Amy
: Then what was the shooting about?

Rondale
: Well, when a corpse takes a swing at you you tend to be a little surprised.

Amy
: Whaaaaat?

Rondale
: I
told
you you wouldn't want to know.

 

Rondale
: I generally shoot everything in the head.

Me,
GM
: Remember that when you run into

Mystery solved, even if it just leaves bigger questions unanswered, the party decide their best option is to retreat, anonymously dump the poor moonshiner at the nearest asylum, and forget it all ever happened.

 

GM
: "DeAr SiR, PlEEZ LooK After this POOR Madman"

Rondale
: "KTHANX BAI"

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Asenath

I almost forgot this one... During character creation, by one of our players (who's currently playing the only academic PC): "Library Use, what's that for?"

 

In the last session of our campaign, my character finally managed to contact the two private eye PCs about the weird stuff happening in her house. "The weird stuff" as in, there's a zombie priest filled with creepy crawlies that try to get inside her head, literally. So after Barry hangs up the phone, Bram asks him what's going on.

Barry: "It's just some house we need to investigate."

Bram: "Good, as long as it's just a normal case."

:D

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Dyvim_Matt

My girlfriend made me laugh really hard last night. She was stuck with a short episode of echopraxia after the Black Demon (from Malleus Monstrorum) appeared yet again.

 

Will: I throw a dynamite stick at it!!!! (He is the player being stalked by the Black Demon, since several sessions ago.)

Gillian (My girlfriend, from the getaway car): So do I! (looks around for a dynamite-stick-like object, I decide on a water bottle in the car.)

 

A few rounds later:

 

Will: I take the driver seat to ram the monster with the car!

Gillian: So do I!

Will: No!!! I try to push her away!

Gillian: So do I!

Will, exasperated: Damn! Okay, I use my taser to calm her down!

Me: Gillian, do you block, dodge or what?

Gillian: No! I tase him back!

 

It went on for a short while like that, before she calmed down. My girlfriend apparently had a lot of fun playing her insanity and getting in Will's way.

 

After the game, I had my usual talk with my girlfriend about the game. She is new to gaming, is sometimes worried that she doesn't understand the game, and sometimes feel the other players and I don't listen to her well enough.

 

Gillian: Matt, I don't like the way you handled my insanity. I don't think my character would have thrown a water bottle at the monster when Will threw his dynamite stick.

Me: Well, I had to think of something that looks like a dynamite stick, in a car which had none. A water bottle had a close enough shape and was likely to be in the car.

Gillian: That's stupid.

Me: Why?

Gillian: I should have thrown the car keys.

 

Now I know she does understand the game. Maybe too well!

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SunlessNick

Fear and long for the day she decides to GM, because it sounds like she'll kick ass.

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Dyvim_Matt
Fear and long for the day she decides to GM, because it sounds like she'll kick ass.

 

Thanks a bunch! I was trying not to think about it, but now I need a SAN check... :-(

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Scuttlebutt

Earlier today I played a solo CofC with my friend. I couldnt remember his character's name so I'll just have labeled as Nathan. This campaign was not entirely meant to be exactly like an action movie but quickly turned into the most comedic action movie that a CofC could be. And I realize that this game was meant for horror and believe me when I say that I had it intended to be horror, but this character was destined to be an action-comedy star. I hope all of those who are anti-D20 because it seems too heroic dont see this as a perfect example. This only could have happened by luck and luck alone

 

This is how the dice fell, this was not doctored and no punches were pulled. While the speechcraft is not commonly present it is essentially a fusion of diplomacy with bluff. It is where you attempt to convince somebody to do something they normally would not do. It is run off of opposed checks and so far has actually worked pretty well.

 

After getting arrested by a known murderer assuming the identity of a police officer he recently murdered, Nathan found himself in a bind. Literally. He was handcuffed and stuck in the back of a cruiser. He knew he was in for some trouble. And when he was driven past the police station and into the nearby woods, his fright heightened. The entire time Nathan kept yelling about how he needed to pee, but the man never blinked an eye.

[cleaned up dialog]

Nathan: I need to pee

Kidnapper: Too bad

N: No seriously, if we dont stop now, I'm going to rupture all over your cruiser

Kidnapper: Well I guess it's a good thing this isn't my car

 

The cruiser stopped at a stone bridge and he was quickly taken out and told to stand on the ledge. The man believed Nathan to be the son of Yog-Sothoth and was destined to release the Old Ones.

 

This was the time that the other cultists arrived in a black SUV. They preceded to watch the execution. Nathan contemplated jumping off and hoping he could survive the 30 foot fall. But after seeing the pointy rocks below, he decided that was a bad idea.

 

His only choice he thought was to fight. He knew he had a pocket knife in his front pocket but his cuffs were behind. Then like an act of god the kidnapper asks "Any last requests monster?"

-successful speechcraft-

Nathan: Yeah I'd really like to [pee] but I've been asking you for the past [freaking] hour and a half so I dont think you are going to let me.

Kidnapper: You got that right

Cultist: Come on Artie, you can at least let the man [pee] we are about to kill him anyway what harm could it do?

Kidnapper: Alright fine.

 

The kidnapper undoes Nathan's cuffs and recuffs them in the front. Nathan precedes to stand up on the ledge and undo his pants, followed by just what he said he would while trying to put his hand in his pocket to grab the knife. The kidnapper notices but can only get out the fragment "hey what are you -----" before Nathan turns around and wraps his arms around the kidnapper's head. He then jumps down catching the chain of the cuffs on the kidnapper's neck, crashing the man's head into the railing. The sudden movement caused the knife to slip from his hand into the water leaving him weaponless.

 

The kidnapper survives and pulls out a gun from his holster and shoots at the man blindly. Luckily his blind miss chance percentage was enough for him to miss. His friends rush over to pull the two of them up over the ledge. The two are thrown onto the bridge where they begin to duke it out penalties all around for Nathan. Keep in mind that the only one with a weapon of any sorts is the man who is now being grappled by a man in handcuffs. Nathan then slams his fists into the face of the kidnapper knocking him out like a light-bulb. Nathan grabs the gun and stands up as he watches the other two run towards the SUV. They hop inside and attempt to run him over. But Nathan quickly moved so that they wouldnt be able to make a sharp enough turn to hit him so instead they drive to block him off from their friend while one jumped out and tried to save the kidnapper, but this left the driver exposed. He opened the door and pulled out the driver who wasn't wearing a seatbelt and used him as a hostage. Then began a long series of interrogations and threats along with escape attempts. Somewhere in the middle of it all while having his gun pointed at some horrified unarmed men Nathan realized his junk had been exposed the whole time.

 

It may not be funny to you, but we cracked up laughing in real life at this. We couldn't help but think how they must have felt crawling back to their leader to inform him that they had not killed their target but were almost killed by a captive in handcuffs who fought with his fly open and junk hanging out because he was too busy kicking ass.

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Drhoz

This week's Cthulhu - "One In Darkness", by Doug Lyons and L.N.Isinwyll, from Great Old Ones. See the blog entries for my incoherent raving disbelief, and my damned Karma Houdini players getting through an unusually deadly scenario without so much as a single scratch, and hugely rewarded in every way possible as well.

 

McGinty is back in Boston's South Side and overhears the King-of_Ireland massacre, which leaves 7 cops, and assorted gangsters dead, in distressingly incomplete form. Despite the news coverage, and a reward that rapidly climbs to over $20,000, Rondale & Guiliano are initially reluctant to help McGinty track down and eliminate some competition. For one thing, Guiliano & McGinty differ entirely on who should be considered culpable for the New York Incident.

McGinty
: Ignorance is no excuse.

The Amazing Julius
: I'll remember that.

GM
: Quite. We all know somebody in this group that's ignorant.
*all turn to glare at McGinty*

Regarding previous Incidents of which Guiliano was hitherto unaware

The Amazing Julius
OOC
: I've already learned - DON"T ASK

Alas for Guiliano's fondest wish to have had McGinty along on last week's Flophouse Fatalities case, just see if McGinty really would have helped himself to glass after glass of wood alcohol -

McGinty
: Yeah, heard all about that from Rondale. Apparently the still was busted. Pumping out the wrong stuff.

The Amazing Julius
( other end of phoneline
) :
*silently curses*

Guiliano has other reasons to avoid McGinty's scheme, too. His 'Family', for one, and his career as stage magician entertaining holidaying New Yorkers in the Borscht Belt.

The Amazing Julius
: If I go around apprehending Irish gangsters, and the word gets back to my neighbourhood but leaves out the Irish bit, I won't be breathing for long.

 

The Amazing Julius
: Some of us work for a living, you damn Mick.

McGinty
: Don't lie, you've never worked a day in your life. Selling your arse on street corners isn't working.

The Amazing Julius
: Selling my arse on street corners would be easier. Some of those ladies from the Old Country can be a bit grabby.

By the end of the week the escapees are still in hiding, and the reward has climbed to $40,000. That's tempting enough to get Rondale and Julius into Boston, which is crawling with hundreds of cops and militiamen, some of whom are towing field guns around. They're taking the manhunt very seriously. Happily, McGinty splashed out for a quality hotel, so they can eat in their rooms and won't have to disturb the other patrons as they read the morning's papers and McGinty boasts about his latest achievements. Such as all the stuff he's learned from the Comte d'Erlette's Cultes de Goules.

McGinty
: You don't speak French, do you?

The Amazing Julius
: No, I only speak real languages.

 

McGinty
:
*demonstrates his new fluency in the glibbering, meeping languages of what the book describes as 'Our Family From Below'*

The Amazing Julius
: You drank from the drainpipe, didn't you?

 

McGinty
: Oh, and I can raise the dead now.

The Amazing Julius, & Rondale
: *
stare
*

Rondale
: Wait, is that to do with that trumpet Amy and Lucy won't let you use?

McGinty
: Oh, no. Now I can point at a corpse, and tell it to get up and go kill those fellas over there.

GM
: How very ... suspicious. McGinty's been in Boston for weeks, he's suddenly flush with cash, and last week the rest of you had that little encounter with a moonshining still and the walking dead. That tableau of Zombies Playing Poker is just the kind of thing McGinty would do, too...

The Amazing Julius, & Rondale
: Hmmmmm *
eye McGinty suspiciously
*

 

Rondale
: I don't need to understand my enemy. I just need to understand how to kill them.

In the apparently unlikely event something manages to kill McGinty, after everything else else I've thrown at him, funeral arrangements are considered.

GM
: If the alcohol hasn't killed him yet...

Rondale
: I know. The .38s would probably just get him angry.

 

Rondale
: Dragonsbreath rounds are the way he would have wanted to go...

GM
: With his alcohol content you wouldn't even need that.

Rondale
: True. Just throw a match.

Curious news items - Apparently the gang's leader sent threatening letters to two art dealers demanding they hand over certain statuary. But this story is promptly retracted as a hoax in the the next edition. They head down to the Boston Leader, McGinty already the worse for drink, but so far is somehow avoiding the long-term effects of his problem.

GM
: Eight in the morning and he's already swaying.

McGinty
: It's an inner-ear problem. There's not enough alcohol in it.

 

GM
: You take
no
precautions regarding the quality of what you're actually drinking.

McGinty
: Yes I do! I brew me own!

GM
: I rest my case.

The party splits up, and to my alarm their befriending of a fired reporter, romancing of phone-operators, waving fist-fulls of cash at art-dealers, and talking their way into police records, breaking and entering, and harassment of low-life losers, leaves them in possession of the curious serpentine bookends and everything they need to track down Malone and the Crimson Gang in less that a day.

GM
: Just how much money do you carry around?? It's not a moneybelt, it's a bloody flak-jacket made of $20 bills.

 

GM
: Apart from that, the only thing you know about the statuary is that an Irish gangster is willing to kill to get them back.

The Amazing Julius
:
*eyeing McGinty*
An Irish gangster already has them.

 

The Amazing Julius
:
*leaning thoughtfully on his cane*
It's not easy pimping in the 1920s. And if you make any comment about Charity being the first of my stable I
will
thwack you.

By good work and freakish luck they find the gangsters' hideout and try to sneak in.

And this starts the bit that makes me want to cry. They spot somebody twitchily asleep on a sofa inside, and attempts their first casting of yet another spell - Mental Suggestion, a hypnotic compulsion of formidable strength. McGinty wanted him to come open the window. Instead, McGinty lost a large chunk of his own mind, and developed sudden amnesia.

GM
: McGinty was peering in through the crack in the glass, and making strange gestures and muttering disturbing gibberish under his breath. Now he's suddenly straightened up, and is looking around himself in obvious bafflement.

McGinty
: I'm going to get meself a drink.
*heads for the gate*

Rondale
:
*slaps hand over McGinty's mouth and hisses explanations before they wake up any of the gangsters*

He needn't have bothered - the gangsters sleep through it. *headdesk* And being reminded of the $40,000 at stake soon gets McGinty back on track.

The Amazing Julius
OOC
: I'm not surprised. He's used to coming around in strange places and asking 'how the fook did I end up here?'

In the end, they manage to get a window open, and climb in, and pummel Malone unconscious, and kick another sleeping gangster in the head until same, before anybody else in the building is even aware of their presence. After that it's mostly down to gunfire, and to my growing incredulity they not only take three of the gangsters alive, bound and gagged, but they find another small fortune in Malone's stash. Which McGinty stuffs down his shirt.

GM
: Guess I wasn't joking about that flak jacket

Outside, the triumphant trio lash the living captives onto or into the cab, and decide to have a good long gloat.

GM
: Malone is staring daggers at you. Clearly he wants to say something, probably a fine selection of old Irish colloquialisms.

McGinty
: Aw, now isn't that nice. I bend down and pull my sock from his mouth. Now what did you want to tell me, Pat, hmm?

Malone
:
*stares viciously at McGinty and spits two syllables
* N'GRAL

*all hear what sounds like a heavy steel object being flung aside with some force, and a pig-like squeal of unearthly rage*

McGinty
:
aw, fook.

Thus begins the climax of the adventure. They pile into the cab and scream at the driver to Go! Go! Go! as they are pursued across South Boston by a shrieking black hairy thing with poisonously green glowing eyes, McGinty and Rondale leaning out the back windows with machine guns and Julius screaming at the driver to keep his eyes on the road, and motorcycle cops and militiamen pour forth like enraged army ants.

Driver
: What? What? What's after us?

The Amazing Julius
: Nepalese Attack Boar! Keep driving!!!

Rondale, at least, does go slightly bonkers, and develops an unnatural fixation on the power of the Thompson machine gun.

GM
: The way it judders in your hand, the way the barrel is so long and hot, you just want to pump bullet after bullet into the body of the thing...

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Uuklay

From a home-brew Dark Ages game:

 

My players (five in all) were searching for a witch or signs of pagan celebrations in a small village. The scenario culminated in a face-off with Lillith (the alleged first wife of Adam), who happened to be in the form of an absolutely massive Gug. One of my players (the priest) tried to banish her with Holy Water and got stomped into nothingness, and another player was slashed through his chainmail and knocked unconscious. Two of the surviving players decided that retreating was the best idea, and they fled on the same horse off into the distance. My final player, playing a chivalrous knight, decided he could not run from a fight with the forces of evil. Even though the forces of evil were currently taking the form of a SIZ 76 Gug that had effectively ended two players in two rounds.

 

The knight decided to fight on to the end, while the other two survivors fled. I 100% played the game by the rules, and the knight (with his astounding shield and weapon skills) had a standoff with Lillith for the better part of a real hour. At one point, she went to bite him, and he got in a swing before she could pull her head back. He rolled an impale, and asked if she could hit her eye so that her chance to hit would go down. I ruled yes. He popped her eye with his long sword and, enraged, she managed to smash his shield from his hand. The knight was utterly defenseless (it was the shield that had been saving him this whole time from her 4d6 damage claw attacks), and it seemed that his death was imminent. At this moment, the knight's squire (the unconscious player) regained his senses and valiantly went struck at Lillith's trunk-like leg. She had 10 armor, so his attack was entirely in vain, but she turned her attention toward him long enough for the knight to regain his shield, secure a lance that had been dropped earlier, mount the only remaining horse, and charge Lillith. She crushed the squire into the earth, killing him once and for all, but the knight struck her with his lance. Utilizing the horse's damage bonus, he was really able to turn the tide of the battle. Unfortunately, Lillith got in a good swing at the horse and cut off it's legs, sending the knight catapulting in to the ground. Wounded, he stood up and bravely faced Lillith, who bent over to chomp him and swallow him whole. His armor deflected the damage from her teeth, but she had him in her mouth and started to swallow him whole. Plummeting down Lillith's gullet, the knight swung his sword... and rolled an impale. He severed her throat from the inside and spilled out onto the ground in a cascade of blood; Hercules style. The knight was down to 3 HP, barely conscious, but Lillith's blood flooded down her form and she was slain. This player had practically single-handedly defeated a Gug. I was astonished. Everyone was astonished.

 

The other two players had gotten back to the village at this point and were telling everyone that their friends had been slain by a terrible monster and everyone needed to run, but then the knight emerged from the forest. Covered in blood and barely able to walk, the unbelievably fortunate hero declared his victory over the blasphemies that plagued this land. Everyone cheered. One of the players walked up and attempted to attend to one of his wounds.

 

And he rolled a 100. I ruled that he only made the wounds worse, and that the knight wound instead lose 1d3 hit points.

 

He rolled a 3. The knight dropped to 0.

 

The knight who had slain Lillith the Demon Queen of England, was killed by a clumsy attempt at first aid.

 

It was the funniest thing that I have ever seen in my entire life. One of my players threatened to quit CoC forever if we left that as what actually happened. But I didn't fudge any rolls in the fight with Lillith, so I wasn't gonna fudge rolls now. The knight died.

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Drhoz

Dunno what he was complaining about. It's a legendary kind of death. I can think of at least three stories from around the world where the hero clung to life after his victory just long enough to appreciate it, before dying of his wounds.

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Dyvim_Matt

Victory: sometimes, it's all about perspective.

 

After an ill-fated expedition to the ghost town of Innsmouth*, one investigator got catatonic from seeing a shoggoth and two others were killed by one of Cthulhu's star-spawn. After the last surviving investigator manages to get back to the getaway jeep with the catatonic one, she goes back to Arkham and heads straight to the mental health center. While the players who lost their characters are rolling up new ones, my girlfriend (Gillian's player from an earlier post, who managed to escape with the catatonic investigator) is dancing and singing in the kitchen:

 

Gillian: o/' I'm in the asylum, I win! I'm in the asylum, I win! o/'

 

*My campaign's game-year is 2009. In it, Innsmouth was abandoned by its few remaining citizens after the raid in 1928. That's why I referred to it as a ghost town.

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tasuret

We're running the Finger-Biter scenario, and it was the best way to start a fresh round of players;

 

Player: I'm going to capture it.

Me: What? You have to roll against their dexterity.

Player: -rolls an 05-

Me: Ok, you have captured the mysterious rat-beast. You have probably also broken this campaign forever.

 

Playing through the Thing in the Park:

Player (the other player's younger brother): I have persuade a nurse to let me bang her silly.

Me: This does not bode well.

Player: -rolls a 13 on the persuasion check-

Me: Your family is the best thing that could have happened to this game.

 

Playing through an original campaign:

Player (unrelated to the others): Well, we rescued my sister. I persuade her to have sex with me. -rolls 35 out of 40-

Me: I guess you guys are a little drunk.

Player 2: No, that was earlier. We're both totally sober now. Just showed up to the bar, and here goes Captain Incest.

 

Same Campaign:

After Player 2 killed all of the constables in the town, we determined he may as well own the small town.

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Asenath

One thing I forgot before:

 

Bram went alone to investigate a house he and Barry had kinda, well, just left without getting any evidence. So he goes up the stairs (old Creole house, windows painted black so it's really dark) and finds himself surrounded by at least three or four men of Zobop (which is the notorious black mafia in New Orleans). Of course, they don't like him snooping around in their turf, so they're basically telling him to back off and never return or else. After a little arguing, Bram asks, really carefully: "So... if I leave now, will you let me go?"

 

...Dude, come on. :D

Well, he was lucky since he got off with the Zopob beating him up in an alley and taking all his possessions.

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Drhoz

McGinty intends to further educate his colleagues in the Mystic Arts, despite the fact they want nothing to do with the calling up of eldritch entities, the sheer lack of time to do so, and McGinty small problem of rampant substance abuse.

GM
: So you're going to teach them spells. When you're drunk.

McGinty
: I can wait until I sober up!

GM
:
*To the others*
You'll never learn the spells.

The Boston newspapers devote their front page to the capture of the Crimson Gang. As Amy discovers, this includes a large photograph of her friends, with McGinty doing muscle poses over the bound and beaten bodies of Pat Malone and the other gangsters.

Amy Wells
: *
facepalm
*

One conversation does come around to recreational reading. Rondale recommends HG Wells.

GM
: You won't like it. It's written by an Englishman.

McGinty
: I'm not reading that!

GM
: But England does get stomped half flat by Martian war machines.

McGinty
: So England gets fooked up? I'm going to read it right away!

Rondale
: There's got these three-legged things that go around England burning cities down...

McGinty
: Three legs? Sounds like the Irish to me!

An Irish clergyman who comes fishing for contributions makes the nearly fatal assumption that McGinty is Irish Catholic. Unluckily for him, McGinty has an Irish Wolfhound

McGinty
: Growler!
*points at the priest*
Testicles!

The lawsuit is also dealt with. By McGinty going to a prominent Boston law firm and putting them on a multi-thousand dollar retainer to deal with it, and any similar problems that might arise.

The Amazing Julius
: This may be the smartest thing McGinty has
ever done
.

McGinty
: Release the lawyers!

The Amazing Julius
: Lawyers! Testicles!

The plaintiff's case is eviscerated, McGinty counter-sues for defamation, and after that the two legal firms settle down for a nice lucrative four-year-long case arguing over discrepancies in the original serving of writs.

McGinty
: It's going to be the legal equivalent of the Great War. Four years of trench warfare whilst you sit at home and quaff port.

The testimonial dinner goes well, despite the speechifying. Afterwards McGinty exercises his incredible chameleonic abilities and gets involved in a discussion of political influence with the Boston elite. Leading to the alarming possibility of McGinty running for office.

 

GM
: You'll make a
fine
congress-critter. You can pass yourself off as a fine upstanding citizen despite being an utter ****.

His proposed platform for election. Repeal the Volstead Act.

GM
: 'A beer in every pot.'

McGinty
: Drunk people cause less crime! Because they're too inebriated to know what they're doing.

Julius
: ' I speak from long personal experience'

Guiliano does not have quite so good a time. Not least because one of the people he's talking to blames all of America's problems on immigrant Catholics. Despite an increasingly incandescent rage, he gives the bigot one last chance to STFU.

Julius
: I'm Italian and Catholic. My Parents are Italian & Catholic. My
Grandparents
were Italian and Catholic...

Bigot
: *
baffled
* Why would you go and do a thing like that for?

Another bigot comes to visit Amy at home. Sheriff Gifford from Virginia, who by this point has proven that the investigators lied about the various deaths out at Styvesant's Folly, and probably smuggled a wanted man out of the state, and almost certainly murdered William Killferny. Luckily for Amy et al, the Powers That Be down in his part of the country are willing to let all this slide, since five visiting Yankees getting killed wouldn't do the county's reputation any good, and they didn't want no uppity Africans hanging around with their contrary ideas anyway. Other excerpts from the Sheriff's friendly warning, which left Amy gaping.

 

Sheriff Gifford
: Now young Billy there.. he was a good boy, a good God-fearing boy.. but he didn't have the brains the Good Lord gave an eggplant.

 

Sheriff Gifford
: I saw what your Irish fella did to that ****** you shot. Young Billy was lucky he didn't end up with more holes in him than a Siamese hooker.

Initiation into the Hermetic Order of the Silver Twilight.

McGinty
: It's just a bunch of ****heads dancing around in robes! We'll fit right in!

GM
: Yes. We all know McGinty is a noteworthy ****head.

Amy Wells
:
*nods sagely*

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Father Dagon

Keeper: what is your detective doing

George: im not a dectective im a wizard!

its was funny at the time

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Drhoz

Call of Cthulhu, opening the year with a bang.

 

One thing McGinty has acquired - or at least acquired legally, with actual money and receipts changing hands - is a funeral plot.

 

McGinty
: In case I need somewhere to hide a body in a hurry

GM
: *
headdesk
* I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding someone to fill it.

He also blows $1400 on an apartment in Arkham for his friend Kelley and his vampire sibling Hal. And lets them stay there rent free. Thus turning a large pile of stolen gang cash into a tax write-off for himself.

 

GM
: How does he keep
doing
this? He does things that at first glance seem outright insane, and they all turn out to be
brilliant
ideas.

Lancaster's player
: He's a Drunken Master of life

GM
: McGi...
Lancaster's
Brain. I was about to say McGinty's Brain... but what brain would that be?

 

Rondale
: I don't have any problems with my sister dating, I just don't want her dating any occult types or anybody remotely connected to the Mafia.

GM
: So Irish gangsters, Jewish gangsters, Yakusa, Triads, and the Union Corse would all be fine?

 

Threatening to tell Lancaster's daughter everything that's happened to him if he doesn't agree to be sawn open like a tin of beans, reduced to calcined powder, and reconstituted as a probable vampire.

 

McGinty
:
*holds up Lancaster's jar*
This is your father's brain.
*holds on his head like a hat and dances around*
This is your father's brain on McGinty

 

GM
: What about your late brother, Amy?

McGinty
: I could bring him back for you.

Amy
: No! Just no!

McGinty
: Not even to ask his ghost if he's happy?

Amy
: No!!! I just hope he isn't lingering, that's he's gone to wherever people finally go when they die!

GM
: I suspect he means he could bring your brother's ghost back
whether it wants to or not

Amy
: Oh god!
*hugs knees and shakes*

Rondale
: McGinty, let's not violate natural order today, ok?

Amy Wells
: But McGinty casting any spells whilst sober
is
against the nature order!

 

To the considerable shock of the Detective Sergeant that's been handling both the kidnapping and the the cult cases, McGinty and company soon make significant breakthroughs in both, AND correctly identify the informant the police has been protecting with a false name. All this and still find time to play Lancaster's canister like the bongos. And are promised $2500 by seriously ill mob boss Zeke the Geek Crater if they can track down and return a stolen crystal carving.

 

GM
: And having just expertly milked you of everything you know of the case without saying more then ten words, Crater continues.

 

Rondale
: What's the difference between crazy & eccentric?

GM
: About $20,000 a year

 

Lancaster's Brain usually occupies a hatbox on long-distance travel.

 

Rondale
: It's got a lock on it.

Lancaster
: It's the only hatbox in America with chains.

 

Lancaster
OOC
: Oh god, I asked her prop me up on the dashboard. I'm the first bobble-head in history.

 

Amy
: Let's just get Lancaster's Resurrection over with, shall we???

GM
: You really want to risk him coming back as a vampire, like Hal?

Amy
: ... that may have been an accident....

 

On Star Trek sanitary facilities

 

Amy's player
: The
Enterprise
plans show hundreds of crew... and one toilet.

Rondale's player
: I guess the queue must get pretty long sometimes.

GM
: Nah, after some of the things Kirk puts the ship through they just need the laundry

Amy player
: Still it's better off than the Klingon ships. They have none.

McGinty's player
: Guess that's why they call them Klingons

Everybody else
: *
facepalm
*

 

Lancaster's player
: No wonder they're so mean-tempered. They've been holding on since they left the homeworld.

 

Watching McGinty smoothly pretending to be a normal concerned citizen when somebody breaks into the Arkham house they've been illegally occupying.

 

GM
: I still can't understand how, with all the things he does, he
still
manages to maintain a Credit Rating in the high 70s. It must his Irish charm. Or whenever people get near him they suffer catastrophic brain damage from the alcohol fumes.

Amy and Lancaster's Brain have been having their own problems. Such a rather alarming thing that's been knocking on her apartment door. And third-storey windows, trying to get in.

 

The Thing is less than clear-spoken about its nature or mission.

 

McGinty
: Hey! You! Where's Keetling!

Thing
: Where the wish is father to the thought.

McGinty
: An address would be nice

 

Rondale
: Right! Let's go!

McGinty
: t' wot?

Rondale
: Muskrat Falls

McGinty
: t' wot?

Rondale
: In Pennsylvania!

McGinty
: t' wot?

GM
: You're just calling him that deliberately, aren't you?

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