Come on, you must have done a run where ruining someone's reputation or was the objective! In one game, my shadowteam was hired to bring a man to a school in the Barrens. I can only describe what the all-female teachers did to him in two words: Forced Feminization! I was thinking that unless he wanted it, he'll probably be begging for death.

Uh, isn't feminization basically an internet fetish? Sounds like a circle jerk.

One word....ouch.

.....

What?

Back in 90/91 a friend of mine was playing Fang, a Coyote shaman, on a run in the arctic looking for a flesh golem supposedly created during a magic spike circa the early 1790s.

Anyway, while on said run Fang was exploring astrally and was confronted by Icehook, a force 8 free water spirit, who asked what the shaman had to offer to be allowed to continue unmolested.

My friend, being cocky, grabbed his crotch and said something like "I've got what you want right here." Before he could followup with an attack, the spirit just said "okay" and took off at full astral speed. By the time Fang got back to his body, the spirit had manifested and collected what it took to be a literal offer.

After extensive reconstructive surgery with cloned parts, Fang was mostly whole again; and a year later he quested back to the arctic and successfully bound Icehook.

Mr. Johnson was being used as a human shield at gunpoint by the Big Bad, and the sniper figured he'd use his Mad Skillz and went for the Robocop Shot. He neglected to account for the fact that Mr. Johnson was a) male, and b) not wearing a skirt. Fortunately he was using APDS and the GM ruled that the bullet went straight through Mr. Johnson's johnson to hit the Big Bad. Still, that was pretty embarassing.

You people seem to have an unhealthy obsession with the male genitalia. Seek help.

I'd still say that the most embarassing shadowrun moment for me was when me and a team-mate got into a punch-up with eachother while trying to invade the house of a politician. To add insult to injury, once we realised he was gone, we found him locked in a first floor bathroom, trying to climb backwards out of a window. My character, the faster one, sprinted outside to intercept the guy, but as I did, the Ork samurai who I had been fighting with, bashed the door down and head-butted the politico, and he fell and landed butt-first on my character's head.

So the only real Shadowrun experience I have is playing on MUSHes. That said people on MU*s can do some really silly things.

The mission called for a touch of subtlety, we were supposed to take a scroll and deliver it to a Triad boss in China (memory is fuzzy, this was the early 90s) I was playing a Fox shaman, so keeping things low key was not a problem. We were told by the fixer to meet the J at the docks, dress low key. I put on my best secure armor, packed a light pistol just in case and pocketed a silencer. I arrived early and took my place at the meeting, waiting for the team and the J to show up.

In walks the Gator shaman, dressed in heavy security armor, two Aries Predators on his thighs, assault rifle strapped across his back and a katana on his hip. ... I made sure to sit on the opposite side of the room from him. Next walked in the physical adept. Compound bow over his shoulder, quiver of arrows, the whole nine yards. ... I moved to the center chair. Next comes in the Street Sam, he seemed to get the idea, dressed down, things concealed, duffel bag for his gear. The second street sam walks in just after the J arrives. He sits down and cleans his cybersprus, the J looks at the Gator, the physad and the second sam. He looks then to the other Sam and puts him in charge.

We take the job, we load up on the ship. We're literally taking a slow boat to China. We fend off pirates and arrive in the port where we're supposed to deliver the scroll. We managed to talk the gator into toning it down a little. The heavy security armor was swapped out for a loud Hawaiian shirt. The low key sam steps off the ship and puts a big Arnie cigar in his mouth, the gator lights it with a flame spell.

Kids run up to the tourists, and the gator gets his pocket picked. The physad sees it and beats the 10 year old kid down. I'm hanging back, trying to keep my mind on the mission. I suggest we get the hell out of there as we're tourists and the dumbass just beat someone's kid nearly to death. The low key Sam (we'll call him Dave) says, "Well I'm going to get drunk."

We head into the bar, he sits down and starts drinking. A street kid wanders in and he asks if the kid knows the guy we're supposed to meet. The kid nods his head and Dave hands him the scroll case!

I headed back to the ship, and left them there. The police arrived and after a bloody shootout the survivors were arrested. I slipped on a physical mask and stayed below decks until the ship went back to Seattle.

hots

My most embarrassing SR moment would have to be the first time I played and my physad troll smarted off to a youngish Eastern Dragon, only to bitten in half and eaten later. My GM made me take the common sense edge from then on.

Well I don't see you taking any steps to help make the circle jerk a female-inclusive phenomenon.

Ten points for the turn of phrase. Also, the most embarrassing is being a good player and finding yourself caught up in a group full of complete hambeasts. There's nothing to do but sit back quietly and wait for them to botch a job so horribly they make an inadvertent distraction and then book it for the nearest door with the information under cover of stupidity.



I imagine you'd be completely shocked to learn that over two decades of play, genitals have rarely come up in the games I run. I know. It's shocking. But it's true. I don't run games that sound like an Adam Sandler movie. Crazy.

One of my characters got knocked out by an 8 year old.

The goal was to kidnap the child (a potential technomancer) in question. While the rest of the team waited downstairs to deal with the parents, the teams technomancer ran upstairs to grab the kid. She tried to talk him into coming peacefully, but having no social skills to speak of (and the uncouth disadvantage) this failed miserably. At roughly the same time, the runners downstairs decided to strong arm the child's mother to prevent her from bringing the law down on them. The resulting commotion caused the technomancer to peak her head out to make sure everything was going ok, and the kid (being of the somewhat brave sort) struck her from behind. Now, the kid had poor physical stats, and only a point in hand to hand (he spent some time in karate), but every last one of his dice came up a 6. Major critical success. Unfortunately for the technomancer, she botched. Badly. And subsiquently, was K.O.ed by the 8 year old they were sent to kidnap.

Let me tell you the story of why you should always look before you roll, or how I became 3 points of armor.

So let me introduce our characters in this comedy:

Black - Paranoid psychotic street sam elf, with a penchant for explosives and sniper rifles (who could blame him for being twitchy when you've got that many wires in your spine?). Best moment up will this point, killing a wire zombie by touching off the seven bricks of c-4 in his apartment after grabbing the mage and jumping out of the window. We all liked to say it wasn't the c-4 that killed it, it was the arsenal in the closet touched off by the blast.


Krunch - Tough Cybered Troll who gave "uncouth" the definition before it existed. Who once tried to get out of a bill at a Yakuza resturant by killing the man next to him and claiming "Waiter, there's a dead man in my soup", running out under a hail of gunfire (yeah, he really didn't need to hurry, it was only normal ammo they were using anyway) through the window. At which point we pointed out that the front door was actually open.

Twitch - Me, cybered up dwarf Hacker/Rigger. Who spent kept an ork in the cupboard of the RV. No, not willingly. We just forgot to let him out after the interrogation.... for four sessions....and three months. I actually think he died to the barrage of APDS rounds we get hit with in Canada before starvation though.



Take in mind this was all back in the last edition. We were palling around on a cruise ship that had been taken over. I was piloting my drones to keep an eye on the top decks and anything that might be coming, which at that time meant a good time in a semi-coma. Well, Krunch had strapped me on his back you see (wanted to keep his KO'd buddy out of trouble, or maybe he wanted a snack for later *shrug*) as he and Black went and cleared the decks taking out men here and there. So they come down close to the bottom decks, and Mr. Black hears a lot of commotion coming from the next room, correctly, of course, assuming that there were plenty of people in there. So, he wants to make it quick and "chunky". Pulling out a grenade he rolls it at the door. "At the door?" the GM says. "well I'm going to open it of course. But roll the grenade at the door, you know, as in from one side to the other" says Black. Well, he makes his roll. "Well, I was going to give you benefit of ignorance, but with that roll..." says the GM, eyeing Black's dice.

The grenade rolls from Black's hand, hits the lip on the bottom of the door ("Oh, right, the doors on ships aren't flush with the ground" says Black) and rolls back into the hallway. Now, Blacks got a couple of actions left before this thing goes off, and he's fast enough to get a few decks above this thing before it does. Krunch is a little slower, but tougher, figures even with the "chunky salsa" effect he'll be fine. Which brings us to the third, and unconcious, and unknowing member of the party. As they're all explaining how they'll probably survive this I loudly proclaim "F*** I'm back armor!". Which excites laughter all around, and much head banging on the table from me.

So that chums is how I became three points of back armor.

The first Shadowrun me and my friend ever did, I was GM and a character, and our Run was a recreation of the Run in the core book (the example story before the index.)

It, however, was offly different from the smooth story.

We successfully snuck into the warehouse and approached an old ork guardsman who had with nothing but a taser. My character snuck up behind him and he figured since he didnt want to murder him, he could just hit him on the neck with his handgun and knock him out. I tried it twice, *THUD*, *THUD*, and the guardsman was completely unharmed, turned around, and tasered me which electrified my character and knocked him down to the floor withering in pain.

In response to my failure, my buddy- a Shaman, rushed out from behind the corner and tried to blast the rent-a-cop with a fireball. He ended up failing the spellcasting so badly that he fell to the floor in a seizure because of drain, almost going into a coma, with both of us almost totally incapacitated.

The result was the "back-up" NPC female Troll that just walked up to the security guard and punched his lights out with one hit.

The mission was to extract comptuer files from their computers after filling a vial of what we were told is "Bad Flavoring" to their soda supply truck.
We came upon the computers first, as they were before the truck. As GM, I wanted him to not horrible fail the mission by murdering everyone and then getting the entire team whiped out by the ambush security guards. So my character and the troll both suggested to my buddy that we should just get the files first because it would be easier. My buddy insisted on following Mr.Johnson's orders to the T. (I guess he didnt realize you shouldnt trust anyone, and it's okay to not follow orders mindlessly.)
So we went onwards to the truck, doing as the Mr.Johnson said.
I was still trying to subtly get my buddy to do something where he doesnt murder thousands of innocent people with the vial of poison.
So in narrative I said, "Your character stops for a moment and ponders how odd it was that Mr.Johnson desperately wanted you to hit the truck first before the computer file extraction, despite how the computer files are first."
Afterwards, my buddy took out the vial of what he didn't know was poison and was about to put it in the soda, murdering thousands of innocent people. Still completely oblivious to my less-than-subtle hints that he should rethink his decision.
My character and the troll both interupted his character saying "Wait, maybe we should check the vial first. I dont trust this Mr.Johnson."
My buddy compeltely ignored their suggestions and continued to put the vial of poison in.
Unable to take a totally obvious hint, I told him straight up as GM, "..............IT'S POISON. DONT DO IT."
He finally understood.


So without my desire to not have our first mission murder everyone, it actually would have turned out with us being taken out by a really old ork security guard with a taser, and if not that, then having poisoned/murdred thousands of innocent people followed by us being totally blown away by the ambush security team- either way ending in horrible horrible failure and death of the entire team.



Needless to say, Me and my Nephew will be the leaders of the team from now on.

Given that all of the mentions of male genitals have been in the context of castration, this seems like less of an Adam Sandler movie and more like a radical feminist fantasy at best or a castration fetishist fantasy at worst (there are actually websites that cater to men with such a fetish).




Have they never heard of the classic unmarked van full of candy and puppies at the playground ploy?




Technically, wouldn't not poisoning the drink constitute the failure of the run? It is what you were hired to do, after all.

interestingly hots

The japanese have a word for this.

which is?

I think that's something along the lines of a corollary to Rule 34.

"There is porn of everything, and the Japanese have a name for it."

It starts with a "B".

I blame Garth Ennis.

Border?

You don't mean bukkake, do you?

I mistook an enemy S-K team for a friendly backup team we were promised once, and walked right up to them to say hello and that I was here on behalf of 'our friends in Detroit.' After being beaten, foamcuffed, strip-searched and laughed at, we managed to escape by hopping through the fucking desert and praying we'd get spotted by the chopper we came out in after I astrally projected and manifested to tell him to follow us.

I mean, seriously. The most amazingly bungled run ever.

Actually it's called Blogging. Baaaaaaahzing...

Adarael that got quite a chuckle from me.