Me: Jeff, you are not allowed to flame better than the gay boy.
Me: I want my character sheet! Erica: I want a hug. We all have problems.
Jefe: Can I have skills please?
GM: Johann will be with you shortly. Erica: We're in a Swedish town, apparently. GM: Eh, 'oser...(beat) oh, wait. That's Canadian.
Me: Former shiner. Mike: She lost the fez.
Bri: 5'9", 105 lbs. Me: 5'9", 110. It's the cup size. Jefe: They're a cup size apart. Me, I have no cup size. I wear a cup.
James: He looks sturdy for an elf. Bri: Dwarf. James: Dwarf. Be a fuck of a sturdy elf.
GM: Our page Jeremy will take you to the sewers, and run any errands you need done. Last will and testament, that sort.
The pizza order, written on the whiteboard: 1 lg. grilled chicken alfredo. 1 large extra-cheese, 1 large pepperoni, 2 orders cheesesticks, oral sex.
Me: Can I buy a rock with Continual Light cast on it? Mike: I can do the casting. Me: I have a rock. Mike: What do I get for it? Me: I don't have much to offer. Mike: How about services? Me: Define "services". Mike: I'm lonely... Me: I think I'll go buy a rock. Mike: You go do that.
GM: Nykki, you would recognise these as ghouls. (he reads a description) Erica: Oh, they're concentration camp victims...
Jefe: Do I need real weapons to hurt them, or can I just pound them into submission?
Me (We're in single file, behind the monk. who's the only one seeing any combat action.): I poke the person in front of me lightly in the back with my rapiers. "Pass it on."
GM: The bard begins to sing... Jefe: La, la-la... GM: Only better than that. Me: And in a higher key. Mike: It's the butch lesbian bard of the group...
Erica: I think I'm going to poke the dwarf in the back, because the bard is singing in my ear.
Jefe: The butch lesbian wants to see the dwarf go between the monk's legs... Bri: I am not a butch lesbian. It's my character...
Jefe: That's just the way it is, Glittertits.
James: I don't care about pushing him out of the way. I'm strong and I'm small, I'll push him the fuck down. Erica: You could bite his kneecaps...
Me: Next tunnel, I'm in front. James: No, I'm in front. Mike: Yeah, because the normal people can reach over your head.
GM: And the ghoul goes into the tunnel after the dwarf... (rolls)...and gets stuck. Erica: It's a fat ghoul. GM: I wasn't this big in life...
James: I can look at it and it goes squoosh. GM: Unless you roll a 1. James (rolls and looks at dice): Shut up.
GM: I'm shorting the dwarf.
GM: If it's made to slash— Me: Bug!
Mike (at the back of the line): I don't suppose there's any way I can get a clear shot with a crossbow from here? Everyone: Augh! GM: Define "clear shot".
Me: I'm behind the dwarf. Am I second or third? GM: Third. Someone: Because the monk's determined to die. Jefe: Yes. Yes, he is. (Note: He did, later.)
Erica: I'm sorry, the fighter is lazy.
Jefe: I'm going after that which stinks, because it offends me.
Jefe: You know, high-level monks can whore like nobody's business.
Someone: Can she sing and hit him? GM: Yes. Me: Ta-ra-ra-BOOM-de-ay! Jefe: You will get backhanded in key.
Jefe: Why are elves immune to this form of paralysis? GM: Because it says so in the book.
Erica: Are we all still stuck in this damn tube? GM: Yes, except Jeff. Jefe: I'm paralysed. Erica: You're busy being gimpy now.
GM: You have to tap them with your wand. It's touch. Mike (gestures obscenely): Wooh! Woooh! Jefe: Do not anal rape the monk. Mike: You're paralysed, what can you do about it?
Erica: It (the ghast) looks gimpy. GM: They looked gimpy to begin with. Erica: It's a side effect of being undead.
GM: Make me a Fort save, DC 15. Me: Nope. Jefe: Stab, stab, stab-stab-stab-vomit.
Bri: I'm going to cast a spell. GM: What kind of spell? Bri: You would ask that, wouldn't you?
Me: If you have more than one nose, do you take a penalty to your Fort save?
Me: Bri is my butch lesbian stunt double today. GM: I missed something while I was paying attention to the game...
GM: ...plus a d6 for the flaming. Jefe: Because being a gay man is worth a d6.
Mike: Isn't a holy flaming sword a contradiction in terms? GM: It's a very open church.
James: Bri, is Jeff's ass as squeezable as it looks?
James: Not a three again...(rolls) Fuckin' son of a bitch...it's a three. GM: Use a different die. James: I did. GM: You still drop it.
Mike: Holy shit, I hit something. Bet that surprised the hell out of it. GM: Pretty much. Mike: The mage hit it. Max damage, too.
Erica: Are you really supposed to be clawing at the guy's head like that?
Me: Then I yank the stick out of my ass and thank the monk. GM: Spank the monk?
Me: Fifteen. Jefe: Fifteen. Bri: Twenty-one. Erica: Fifteen. Mike: Fifteen. James: Six. GM: I don't believe this. The zombies go before all of you except Bri.
Erica: You people are enjoying your cleavage, aren't you? Mike: Cleavage was meant to be enjoyed.
GM: You land in a lake. Me: How big is the lake? Mike: How deep is the lake? Erica: Can anyone else swim?
Jefe: The monk's first priority is to get to the shore, where the big snake is not. See, he has priorities. Life - booty. Life - booty.
Jefe: I go, "That's a damn big snake. Move!"
Me: Do you have knowledge: water rescue?
GM: You're now down to four flailing zombies. Me (singing): Four flailing zombies, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a necromancer in a pear tree. Amended by Jefe to "french elves" and "turtle dwarves".
GM: The Cavalier next to you starts to drown. Bri: I dive in after her, because it'll make me look better in the tale. (rolls) Or I'll join her. "Hey, looks like fun."
James: I know you can heal now. Mike: It depends on if I want to. James: I'm going to tell you to stand behind me and tap me in the ass with that wand while I kill it.
Me: What's permanently sealed shut? Its ass? GM: Its eyes. Its eyes are sealed shut.
James: Can I just sink to the bottom and take the two steps it would take to get me to breathing area?
Jefe (to Bri): I'm just going to forbid you to wear clothes when you're over here.
GM: Does a 20 hit you? Jefe (cringing): No? ...Yes. Can I deflect arrow? (note that it's a Cave Wyrm attacking) GM: That'd be like deflecting a ballista.
Me: I continue to swear at it in Elven. Jefe: Your mother was an earthworm. Erica: And your father smelt of elderberries.
Mike: I have rope. Me: I have rope too. A chorus of "I have rope too." Mike: We're the bondage party.
Mike: I'm a half-thrykreen. GM: What's the other half? Mike: Human! James: My, your skin's looking awful chitinous today.
GM: These are bronze doors, bowing outward, and there's a tiny trickle of water seeping out from them. Everyone: We go the other way.
Me: 25. Jefe: 25. GM: Go. (We roll, hit, roll.) Jefe: 31 damage. Me: 31 damage. GM: You...drop them both. That was anticlimactic.
Mike: Cast Enlarge and Grease and go at it.
Me: Ain't no bitch-ass skeletons hittin' me...
Jefe (clutching his toe): Owwww! Me: Did I do that? Jefe: Owwww! Me (quietly): Sorry.
Jefe: I am a bashing weapon.
Mike: So how's that skeleton look? GM: Pretty dinged up. Mike: For a skeleton? GM: For a skeleton.
Jefe (to Erica): Now would be a good time to do that Whirlwind Attack.
Jefe: I will pull the sword out of the dessicated corpse. Erica: You wash your hands after you do that.
Me: I do the holy people dance.
Jefe: Dude, I didn't just die, I gruesome-died!
Jefe: Oh, Jesus God. Those aren't toes... Bri: Cold. Jefe: I know!