Your group's jokes.

When the DM asked one of the players how his Russian vampire made it all the way to New Orleans in the late 1800's, his response was:

"I traveled via the Bering Strait, dragging my coffin, during the 30-day polar night, to America. Then I just floated inside my coffin down the Mississippi River all the way to New Orleans."

Then added the gem "Oh, and a ghouled Huckleberry Finn did the steering".

Due to one nigh-unkillable necromancer in an earlier campaign, any mention of necromancers, or any fights with hard to kill wizards will lead to the group rolling their eyes.

• "We check the trunk for bodies!"
  • My fault. Star Wars mafia game. I killed a guy, stuffed him in the trunk of my speeder, and the fuzz caught me.
• "So, we're on Gand..."
  • Star Wars/Stargate crossover. After we got to Gand, the other players derailed with out-of-game talk. This became the catchphrase for "Get back to the game already."
• "You see a very interesting rock."
  • Reserved for spectacular failures on Spot checks.
• My parade of characters.
  • In my old group, I think there was only one other player (who was gone before I joined) who had a higher character turnover than I did. There was one string where I went through five characters in four sessions.

1.A group I D Med for had a very odd running gag. A verrrry asian (rucka rucka ali very) merchant that was first seen by the group running a magic items pawn shop. I made up the accent and mannerism on the spot, picturing him as Won from Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town. The group loved him. As was happens with a memestic mutation he grew in absurdity.

At one point one of the group brought him into his own campaign, placing him as the head of a merchants guild and owning his own medieval yacht and singing 'I'm on a Boat'...What monstrosity have I created?

"I cast Create Water in his lungs." -Me, in reaction to someone insulting my Gnome's hat, offending me, sighting the Tarrasque...

That last one actually worked. I killed an infant Tarrasque via drowning.

Well, I've got a nifty little story.

So this one time, I was at a friend's place when his Dn D group gathered for a session. They figured they'd toss me in for a one shot as a cleric/rogue posing as a servant for a noble whom the group needed to steal from. I got bored waiting for them to meet up with me, so I asked the DM if I could make a Cleaning check. He agreed. Critfail.

"You mistook a bucket of gravy for soap. It's all over the floor now."

When the group reached the mansion, I pointed them in the right direction and stood guard in the kitchen so I could make sure no one followed them. Other servants came into the room, insisting they needed to head upstairs (where the pcs were). I tried thinking of a way to distract them, and asked the gm "How much gravy would they have in the kitchen anyway?"

The only combat actions I made that entire session involved buckets of gravy.

"I was just testing your reflexes!"

Said in response to an unlikely outcome. It started when, in an attempt to gain the trust of an elf mercenary, I bluffed him into killing my companion, then attacked him. Down to 5 hit points, another bluff roll saved my life. The line said? "I was just testing your reflexes."

A fumble is always followed up by an aside about raisins. Long story.

Farseer Lolotea: The entire Tropperdom of TV Tropes don't mind a Wallof Text, so go ahead tell us that story.

Unless it's Wolof text.

@ NSBL: Clever.

Most of this is context. We were playing D&D. The (bad) module had us exploring a haunted mansion, and we stumbled across what we presume was the conservatory. At any rate, it was a glass-domed room with a floor covered in vines.

The rogue was going to go in and explore...but the bard saw something shiny and Leeroyed. And the vines coalesced themselves into a fiendish tendriculos (or, as I like to put it, a "Twoey from hell") and grabbed him.

D&D being what it is, we had to make knowledge checks to figure out what it was and what its weaknesses were. The wizard fumbled his. Somehow, the decision was made that the wizard was now convinced that the Twoey was desperately afraid of raisins.

So, of course, the first thing that the wizard does is throw illusory raisins at it...and wonder why it doesn't work. Keep in mind that the wizard's player is keeping a straight face throughout all of this. (Ironically enough, this same wizard is the one who ended up taking it out, after it had eaten the bard and my paladin.)

edited 18th Jun '11 1:37:28 PM by FarseerLolotea

Our group in joke is misconstruction on the recollection of events, in other words, blatant lies.

It all started when I was running the longest and fondest campaign we've had, but just by that time it was just starting, we were giving D&D 3E a spin because we heard some nasty things about it from the Stop Having Fun Guys, but I wanted to see how it ran so I bought the books. The party was barely level 2 or 3. I browsed around the Monster Manual in order to find a suitable 'guardian-esque' monster for them to fight before the real boss, the Evil Mayor in his royal chamber. I stumbled upon the Hook Horrors, the numbers looked about right, but their AC was somewhat lacking, of course I hadn't realized that's because they are grapple beasts and once they get you it's hard to live to tell the tale, anyways the story then goes something like this:

Me: Hmmm... Hook Horrors, Yes!

Booga Booga, the Half-Orc Barbarian: Hook Horrors? NOOOO I HATE THEEEM!

Me: (Mmmm... their AC is crap, better up the ante) Two of them...

• Everyone Laughs

So the re-telling as told by my players goes like this:

Me: Hook Horrors!! Squeee!

Booga Booga: NOT THE HOOK HORRRORS! PLEAAASEEE! I BEG YOU! NOT THE HOOK HORRORS!!

Me: *smirks* PERFECT! TWO!!!

edited 16th Jul '11 12:41:38 PM by Dapifer

I DM a Dungeons And Dragons game, and our group has a few running jokes. For a while, there was the recurring problem that I hadn't thought of a name for one of the recurring characters. Eventually, I decided that his last name was Nathan, to which the party's ranger replied, "Now I'm always going to think about Nathan Fillion when we talk to him. So I decided to name him Fillion Nathan.

Also, our group's Fighter seems to never be able to hit anything when he attacks, which led to us labeling him as the Butt-Monkey of the group for a long time.

"The fighter's weakness is trees"

I botched my attempt to get out of a tree trap and nearly fell to my death.

This being the second time I've nearly fallen to my death in the SAME campaign.

edited 25th Jul '11 11:06:07 PM by CommandoDude

• "Fuck you, I'm a Stranger!" is now heard quite often in our group, no matter the game. Comes from our ongoing epic Battletech campaign where our mercenary group, the Mysterious Strangers, has basically single-handedly changed the history of the Inner Sphere and the flow of Fedcom Civil War by rolling either something close to 100 or flat out 1 on percentage die rolls for random outcome almost any crazy insane action they did.

For example, rolling a 98% to see how successful the meth-head space-barge ice-truckers they sent to an Oort cloud of a Clan world really were in finding a large chunk of ice to make the whole fleet look like an irregular comet to drop like snow on Clanner heads as it was passing by the planet, knocking out all strategic satellites as it went. This same one involved a roll of 95% to see how much Clantech we salvaged intact before dashing off-planet as the comm blackout was ending and our comet was leaving.

Or rolling a 100% to see what the slavers/elite mercenaries that outnumbered us six-to-one were guarding when we successfully bumrushed them. It bears mention that in the preceding combat, one of our lance members rolled eight headshots in a row (12 on 2d6 roll), successfully decapitating five people in a single turn. All with different sets of dice. These were raw rolls, incidentally. Turns out they were guarding lots and lots of gold. That's how our company really got started.

Or rolling 99% to see how successfully we were able to orbitally bombard our enemies with improvised Rods from God. Turns out, way too well.

Or rolling 1% to see how many casualties our forces took in a protracted campaign of attrition.

Yeah, the list goes on, really. After half a year or so, the DM took over all percentile rolls, but that seemed to only enhance our luck more than anything. We became so desensitized to our insane luck that we terrify most of our enemies as they never know just how much insanity to expect from our company. When we're bored, we might just do something crazy enough, like drop our command lance into the middle of the enemy base with the intent of performing a really messy Death from Above from low orbit onto THEIR command lance — and not only are we statistically likely to succeed, we are even more statistically likely to survive the outcome.

So, whenever someone has a bout of good luck that literally stretches plausibility to the point of causing existential failure if this reality was a Mage universe, "Fuck you, I'm a Stranger!" is immediately accepted as the only argument necessary against such statements as "How the fuck, you asshole?!", "That's not even physically possible!" and "This isn't Exalted, you dipshit!"

• "Here's a sidequest, don't kill yourselves" In another Battletech campaign, this one D Med by me, I introduced a rather terrifying, but (secretly) fairly harmless thing I dubbed Scorpion/Spider/Centipide thing. Locomotion of a centipede, creepiness of a spider, tail of a scorpion. It was about the size of a headcrab, it screeched, and it had very thick chitin (thick enough not to care about combat boots or personnel-level incendiaries). One of the players picked it up on his 'mech after hiding from low-flying aircraft in the desert of Astrokaszky on a routine patrol. Big deal, right? The thing had like 4 health in GURPS rules.

I introduced the thing to add a little variety to the campaign, because it's one of those random things that just happen now and then. Y'know, like life. It dealt 1 damage max, and while it was quite horrifying, it wasn't even poisonous.

So, the pilot of the 'mech (we will call him D) forgets to request quarantine. The thing runs around in the hangar bay of their dropship, screeching and freaking out a couple technicians and the pilot. D immediately pulls out a BFG revolver he's got on his hip (14.5mm rounds, thank you very much) and proceeds to successfully blow holes through three bulkheads, sensitive engineering equipment, control panel of one of the 'mechs under maintenance, and emergency fire alarm system. Anything but the Thing.

The thing runs through into the ship's quarters proper as one of the bullets disables the locking mechanism on the access hatch and it snaps open. The thing proceeds to terrorize players and NP Cs throughout mess hall, medbay, and living quarters. By being god-ugly and screeching, more or less. The biggest sign of aggression it's so far shown was running away from everything in sight.

Finally, D corners it near his room, where he empties another clip (this one from a more appropriate-caliber gun) at it, missing all of the shots. The thing runs around his feet, stinging him once out of sheer terror. Enter player 2, hereby dubbed K. D yells to K not to worry about him and just shoot at the thing, because he is "already doomed". So K empties HIS clip, putting a tight group straight into D's chest. The Thing is unharmed.

So D collapses to the ground while the Thing runs off down the corridor, K in tow firing off a sidearm wildly, when he slips in D's pool of blood and breaks his collarbone and left arm, then dislocates his neck by the virtue of three epically failed DEX checks in a row.

So, that's two players in the Medbay. One in a coma, the other in a neckbrace. The Thing has so far dealt 1 point of damage to anybody, because it was terrified and it used its (non-venomous) tail sting to ward off what it perceived as a predator.

For the next six hours (of real-time; three weeks of gametime), the whole crew of a military dropship goes on tight lockdown. The Captain and vice-Captain lock themselves in a room and play lots of golf and drink lots of whiskey (both being British as hell).

Long story short, they considered nuking the one-of-a-kind dropship just to get rid of local wildlife. Finally they settled on the more conventional explosives in their ventilation shaft approach, damaging the Thing badly enough so that someone stepped on it by accident, killing it.

During this time, one player was in a coma, other seriously injured, and third suffered a mental breakdown. The only one that was unharmed was oblivious to the whole thing, being more or less a crazy scientist in her lab.

So yeah. Sorry about the length of the story.

edited 29th Jul '11 10:54:11 PM by Korochun

Running gags in my old groups:

Group one:

• In reply to an NPC announcing what a terrible threat the new villain is: "What, like Orcus?" (At one point, one of Thomas' characters rolled six natural twenties in a row to bluff Orcus' high priest into giving him fuckloads of undead power. It didn't turn out well for Orcus.)
• "I don't speak Goblin, so I'm going to assume you mean "Yes Messrs. Adventuring Party Sirs, we want you to kill our chieftan and sodomise his skull."
• "I eat it."

Group two:

• Immortality first, questions later.

• "What happened to the X?" "Blew it the fuck up."

"Dwarfs get proficiency in forklift."

This resulted from an incident in a dwarven mine as we tried to break up a dwarf cult digging out a dracolich. My Druid was in Pink Dragon form as a dwarf up and drove a magical forklift at me, trying to impale me. I flipped it over. Cue MST 3 K running joke.

"This is the song, written for the fight scene this is that fight scene, pink dragon and dwaaaaaarf He triiiiied to kill me with a forklift!"

New running gag/in-game terminology.

"Dragonwatch" - Blowing spot checks when travelling. The assumption being that you spent all your time looking in the sky for dragons.

While it's only been used for overland travelling, the line likely works as well for moving underground, or in fortresses.

I Broke [GM]'s Campaign!

Poor guy is no match for us. We were going to get t-shirts made, too, and then wear them at gaming conventions, and when someone walks up to one of us and asks us what it means, we'd shake our heads like we're quietly judging them and say, "you wouldn't understand." I wish we'd done it, but motivation is our dump stat.

edited 21st Oct '11 11:07:47 AM by coldcutsupreme

Group Joke: Whenever there's a perception check to be made, we'll throw the d20 at the player and yell, "Perceive things!"

Also, any time one of us fails out roll we take the die back and act like we're about to roll again as we call "Elven Accuracy!"

Every time someone casts Black Tentacles, we read it for the audience (we play over the radio.)

Why?

Also, they get a +2 bonus on their grapple check against females, and an additional +4 if it's a schoolgirl.

edited 14th Nov '11 5:57:07 PM by Krautman

Krautman: You must live in the Outback to do something like this over the radio.

edited 14th Nov '11 5:43:04 PM by MadWritter

College radio from midnight to four AM. Nobody wants the slot, so the DM got it.

Anytime you need to buy anything, no matter what city, state, or realm, or DIMENSION, you can always rely on the merchant being...

Senor Vorpal or one of his identical, Names The Same, 90-00 (ninety-zero) brothers.

This guy is basically Senor Cardgage from Homestar Runner, but the DM got the name from the character Fumbles from Goblins. This guy is in every campaign, and usually ends up in most sessions. Oh, and he has 90-00 brothers because one of the P Cs asked him how many brothers he has, and the DM rolled 2 percentile die to find out and got 90-00. So it could mean 90, or 900, or 9000, or 9 billion billion.

We've got a Djinn named Mizerthal the Mad. He's a jester for Asmodeus who grants us one wish a year for keeping Mizerthal out of his hair.