The Worst Dungeon Master Ever: Rebuttal

An opportunity to draw a hilarious rebuttal from a deranged lunatic. Who uses Armageddon references in an argument? *blink*

I don't usually do requests, but:

Perhaps next time he posts he might equip his Cloak of Grammar (+2, +3 vs. People Who Realize He's Full of Shit, +1 vs. Reptiles)?

PERHAPS, ANNNA, ONE DAY YOU TOO WILL, LIKE THE CHARACTER CESARE IN THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, SLEEP IN A BOX AND KILL PEOPLE

-JSP

Well, at least my future involves supernatural murder and heavy eye makeup.

And I think we can all agree that the moral of this story is: Don't judge a book even if you have read the first few chapters, discovered that it's at a third-grade level, read a few more chapters anyway and then shuffled off thoroughly disgusted.

And if that book (we ae still speking in hypothetical terms here) has a website...well.

-JSP

After being the subject of several bad, BAD dungeonmasters, I find it necessary to comment. In reverse order:
Anyone who uses the word "nettiquete" in a non-sarcastic manner... I shouldn't need to finish that sentence.
Making enemies on the Internet? Who takes it that seriously? Honestly, if someone from New Jersey knows not to take the Internet at face value, everyone should.
As for judging a book by its cover... If I didn't judge books by their covers, I never would have read Terry Pratchett or William Gibson... or any of the "Classics" for that matter. So think about that for a moment, then tell someone to "not judge a book by its cover."
Overall, I think it's rather sad that Things I Hate has (temporarily) degenerated into a Usenet-esque series of long-winded... Well, I'm not sure what to call them. They're not quite "flames," as they use decent enough grammar, correct (mostly) capitalization, spelling and punctuation. Sorry to sound like an English instructor, but I _despise_ bad English skills. Pet peeve number 8957366. Here's hoping things will improve.

Maybe I'm behind the times but 100 e-mails a day where half of them are junk mail leaves 50 e-mails a day. I might be behind the times or unpopular or something but that seems like a great deal of e-mail. an insane amount nearly. I mean I'd say maybe it's a lie or an exaggeration, but why bother, Its possible he wants to show you he's comfortable with e-mail but its not like e-mail is hard or maybe he's lying to build himself up but...no no way its e-mail it's the most pathetic form of communication so no. Also he didn't address the creepier meat of the original piece which was all the extraspecies raping and the raw hot dog munching...But still even if he was the best game master ever what the difference its like being the guy who knows the most about star trek its loosing position I'd rather be the worst game master as aposed to the best

well, it's nice to hear both sides of the story, and reassuring to see that Annna's not the jerk here, but I must agree with Clockwork that personal arguments, which are likely to result from the occasional inflammatory article, might be better resolved in those hundred emails than on thingsihate. flame wars are one of the few things I don't miss from the WWiV scene.
by the way, "heavy modifications" that involve measurements of the naughty bits are the trademark of that all-too-prevalent lurking creature, the shitty DM.

As for Bad Dungeonmasters and the subject of the naughty bits...
Excerpt from an actual character-creation session, in which my nascent character was a half-ogre female.

DM: Okay, ogres usually have decent-sized breasts, so a breastplate or armour for your upper half is going to cost a lot.
Me: No it's not.
DM: I'm the DM, don't argue with me.
Me: The character is a warrior. She cut her breasts off.
DM: You can't do that...
Me: Why not?

It degenerated from there. Eventually I mumbled colourful words in several languages and changed the character's gender to male. Since then I've given up playing D&D in all its variants. Now I play a genderless Dryad in Shadowrun. Yes, Virginia, there are Dryads in Shadowrun. Not that I have the spare time to waste on gaming anymore.

It's not a general trend or anything. I just felt I should put this up because:

1. It's fairly long.
2. I've actually met this guy.
3. The article it references is one of this site's most popular and certainly longest (unless you count Petey Week).
4. I've been dreading this shoe dropping for quite a while.

It's all in the interest of closure.

(I was also pretty glad that I turned out not to be as much of a jerk as I worried I might be.)

One thing that always buged me about the original is when you were rolling for penis and breast size it seemed unfair to me that you wouldn't roll for vaginal depth. it seems like haveing a huge vagiana could be quite the asset for hiding gold and what not where as a giganitc cock would just get in the way

There's a story about that
in which the lady sez to the
guy, "2+2 is 4, 5+4 is 9...
I know the length of yours,
but you don't know the depth
of mine." The Bartholin glands
are the source of Maiden Water,
long prized in the Scots Highlands
as a font of Majik! So, if yer
ashore in Baltimore...

Eat Bertha's mussels,
they're the best there is by far
You can eat them in the dining room,
you can eat them in the bar
So when you're ashore in Baltimore
and you fancy a bite to eat
Just follow your nose to Bertha's,
you'll be in for a rare old treat

Now a sailor came to Bertha's
with a problem most severe
His manly pride had atrophied
from a voyage of forty years
A couple of plates of mussels,
now he sings in a different key
His jib boom's set right,
he'll be in there tonight,
and he'll never go back to sea.

They will cure your diarrhea,
cure your constipation, too.
Just swallow a box for the chicken pox,
the measles or the flu.
Now, if you fancy a healthy life,
get your daily doses straight
A plate a day of Bertha's mussels,
and you'll live 'til you're 98.

What a lively, lively discussion! About penises (peni?) and breasts, to boot.

Enemies on the internet: everyone has them! I know someone in London who constantly sends me cryptic messages, more often than not, they are spot on. Which leads me to wonder who this person is, and how they know these things? Are they my more creative (sadistic) side taking form, downloading ICQ, and moving to London?

I think D&D is a chance for people to get very angry. And personal. Which is why I play it so much. I don't get angry, but frequent "incidents" always occur between the more angsty players. Shall we move onto the topic of Vampire: the Masquerade? No, best not. We don't all wear funny hats, smoke cigarettes through holders and wear rose-red grand-daddy sunglasses. h0h0h0.

Don't Judge a Book By It's Cover: Why not? You see, if I notice someone who appears to be a petty, spiteful Dungeon Master posting on thingsihate.org, it seems to me that pretty much sums you up. Or something. I don't like you, sir.

This isn't a "flame war", thank God. It's more of a discussion. My parents have flame wars.

A bit rambling, I know, but I feel like rambling today.

I am Gary Cygax, the Most Dangerous Man in Pen&Paper Roleplaying Gaming! That's right, not only am I a founder and owner of the successful company that is Platinum Games, I am also nearly a multi-millionaire and have SUPER FAST FISTS THAT CRUSH BONE AND REND FLESH WITH PRETERNATURAL ACCURACY! Not that I'm tooting my own horn, but I'm richer than most of you and I KNOW LEET JUNE! That's right, I am proficient in the martial arts style founded by Bruce Lee, Mr. Fists of Fury himself! Don't think, feel! FEEL THE AGONY OF MY HEADBUTT CRUSHING YOUR NOSE INTO YOUR TENDER EASILY DAMAGED BRAIN!

Anyways, I'm a little bothered that our friend here has to be notified in advance of playing. Do I have to have your secretary pencil it in? I HAVE A SECRETARY WITH BIG BOOBS! AND I CAN HAVE SEX WITH HER ON MY 1.5 MILLION DOLLARS THAT ARE MINE! I work for a living myself. It's a little job called KICKING ASS AND KICKING ASS! I don't care about your name because THE ONLY WAY YOU'RE LEAVING THIS 9 x 9 FOOT ROOM IS IN A LARGE SACK, SONNY! I AM A JUJITSU MASTER!

So yeah. Anyone can come up with a game in 15 minutes if they're not totally inept. I made 1.5 million doing the same thing! I'm a multi-millionaire practically! AND I CAN KICK YOUR LEGS UNTIL THEY COME OFF!

Hah! Dare you butt-heads with
Schlub Polymath, whose head
is harder than Wolframite
and who is hornier than a
three-peckered goat?

Clockwork- which covers were you judging Terry Pratchet's books by the (Good) Josh Kidby ones or the rather more poor American release ones?

Not that I'm going off at a tanget or anything.

Paul, I picked up "Good Witches" just because of the title. I can't remember which cover art was on the first copy of it that I owned. Since that one, I've bought at least two copies. My cat urinated on one of them. Apparently Domino doesn't like Terry Pratchett.
After reading "Good Witches," I ceased needing to examine the cover art. I started picking Pratchett's books up on principle.
Ah, capitalism.

I don't know who paints 'em, but I've seen three distinct styles: the jagged lettering with small picture in the center on the newer ones, which is not bad, the very minimal picture with sort of rounded font on the new reprints of the 1st four Discworld books, which is at least inoffensive, and some really ugly typical fantasy/parody art like you would see on a Piers Anthony or Robert Asprin paperback (only seen on my roommate's old copy of Pyramids). I got into Pratchett's works because of Nethack (also why I read Popul Vuh).
by the way, the more I read of him, the more hit and miss I think he is. my thermometer:
Witches = sucks
City Watch = probably sucks
Rincewind = probably good
Death/Sto-Helits = almost certainly good
non-recurring characters = doesn't matter, it's so refreshing it'll seem good regardless

It occurs to me that I never would have read any of Larry Niven's books, if not for the covers. Larry Niven is an amusing man... He is crotchety, old, drunk, socially inept, possessed of a cast-iron liver, and goes to conventions for the express purpose of assaulting his fans with a rolled-up stack of convention schedules. Mind you, that's a second-hand account of what happened. I didn't actually go to that particular convention.
Having posted this, I will now cower in fear of Mr Niven's lawyers. I'm sure he'll sue me for slander and possibly libel if he ever reads this.

Did anyone else get from both Annna's descriptions and from Michael's response the image of "Comic Book Guy" from the Simpsons? I read Michael's response as if it were flowing from Comic Book Guy's lips, and by the time I was finished, I was laughing so hard I nearly plunged from my chair.

I rounded out a group once as a favor for a guy a particularly disliked. I came up with something clever to get around one of his unimaginative obstacles, in a way he hadn't expected and didn't like. His response: "The gods say no!"

I fully grant that I'm two or three years out of date with this particular issue, but, in the interests of sharing with faceless strangers information they really aren't interested in having, I feel obliged to confess that this sentence has already grown far too lengthy, almost as if penned by one of them damn Russian novelists, to be of any use to anyone, which is why I won't begin my "personal commentary" until the following sentence. You remember about twenty or twenty-five years ago when the documentary "The Decline of Western Civilization, Pt. II, The Metal Years" came out? Remember how good it made you feel about your own life to know that, whatever difficulties you may have been experiencing at the time, at least you weren't one of those losers in L.A.? Reading the whole "Worst DM Ever" saga, and at the same remembering that I hadn't actually played the game since 1982, well, the relief was immense, like what one feels upon waking up from a bad dream and realizing that, hey, it was just a bad dream. This experience comes at an auspicious time - as I approach middle-age, I've been fighting the onus of "teen-years" nostalgia. That I have already spent uncounted hundreds of dollars on my favorite New Wave music ("oldies" - sigh) is bad enough. That I was contemplating spending my hard-earned clams on old D&D stuff - well, let me just say "thank you" once again for sharing this bit of history and reminding me of just why it was that my fondest D&D memories involve quitting an hour into a given game to watch Bruce Lee movies on Showtime. -CCW

I'm sick of lazy, or abusive dms, and this guy's all that and a bag of hentai.

Hon, wherever you are, you have my sympathy for being around this over-bloated bastard. What a fucking asshole. I wish you many good dms and gaming experiences in the future.

This is pure comedy! He reminds me of the comic book store owner off of the Simpsons!

*points* *laughs*

When I started DMing (A mistake, as I had only a few months experience playing.) I ended up making the mistake of railroading and letting my anger at the player affect the character.

The railroading mistake? Ironically, that's the kind of story that the guy was used to. He gamed with a horribly munchkin/twink/powergamer crowd. (Level 7 hexblade with +8 broadswords. Level 12 character using the "Sword of Kord" 1st level character with the ability to summon 20+ skeletons. 5000 XP for catching a DM mistake/coming up with something he hadn't thought of/actually using magic items for what I'd bought them for.) But he could tell a good story. I'm gaming with a better DM now.

The other mistake, I refer to as the "No save ceiling drop incident." It wasn't pretty. Nearly made the player kill the character.

In comparison to this guy? My mistakes aren't that bad. The kind of things that a good heart to heart chat between players/DM and lightening up a little would cure.

Also, I didn't get a Simpsons Comic Book Guy image when I read this guys description, I got "Michael Moore as a DM!" instead.

Thanks for the laughs. I passed this tale around among some old gaming buddies -- we've gamed off and on since about 1980 -- and we had a great time with it. Each of us has dealt with a rogue's gallery of nightmare DMs over the years, but it's rare to find in one guy the qualifications for so many different 12-step programs.

Be afraid. Be very afraid!
it could be you...
We've all been there (by we, I mean gamers). The fat, sweaty DM. The pointless anecdotes on past games. The over complicated rules and "customisations" to "give the players more options". The miraculously overpowered NPCs who were old characters of the DM. The equally miraculous PCs run by the DMs girlfriend/boyfriend ("really, she rolled a natural 20..." on 3d6!). The plotless sessions where your characters follow the important NPC around and watch as she kicks all the ass, gets all the glory and even prevents you killing the DMs favourite evil NPC if by some mad quirke of fate you defeat the insane odds and thus the enemy. And of course the random rolling of character's vital statistics... right down to penis size and breast size (which the DM claims is attention to detail but is really just to give him something to visualise later on while he's having that "funny feeling").
Could this be a kind of "mid life crisis" for gamers? Is this one of the pitfalls on the path of mental health for those of us who spend our time devided between two realities? is this the gamer's equivalent of having a work-induced, stress-related nervous disorder?
Now I'm scared. Given sufficient time to have a mental breakdown which strips me of all my social sensibilites and if I become a totally self involved bullshit artist, it could be me (I already have the Goatee and the physique)! I could become comic book guy from the Simpsons!
The Horror!
Watch out all you other Fat DMs who cultivate Goatees! Gaurd your DMing abilities against the ravages of time and self involvement! Don't let it happen to you! Watch for the warning signs of "Shitty DM Self Involved Bullshit Syndrome". Learn to improvise and think on your feet! Loose the weight (well, I'm trying)! Shave off the wispy goatee (actually, I quite like mine)! Learn to shut the hell up! Listen to your players! And most important of all... remember to have a life in the real world!

Sorry. Bit of a rant there. I have lots more but I should leave room for othere.
Anna: Good work. Thanks for sharing. We shall stand vigilant against the anguish of what we could become. What some people have already become. If I wasn't married...
Michael: You can work for a living and still develop a vocabulary (and a personality). Ogres and minotaurs raping humans? Nettiquette?! There may be no hope for you but good luck in your search for a cure.

Hey SomeAnonymousGuy, 1982 was good time to quit, because all the DMs were getting to be like that. What ever happened to real D&D like we played in the 70s?

Of course, we all need good nettiquette. Who doesn't that, geez. Well, except for those people who have good ettiquette, but they're bastards anyway.

Also ya he reminds me more of a DM Micheal Moore, I used to have a DM a little similar to that (see part 3 comments). Remember all you gamers and geeks. Don't become like him develop social skills, absorb as much knowledge as possible, understand that you. know. nothing., exercise, and most of all THINK us that noggin!

Holy cow. This apparently happened here in town (Eugene, OR). Now I'm frightened that I'll run into the "Worst DM ever!"
Luckily I'm in nice, stable longterm group and am even trying my hand at DMing. I still leave a lot to be desired, but at least I've never had anyone roll their character's penis or bust size. Yet!
I enjoyed the article and hope that you've found a group to play with.

I feel your sympathies, I am a GM that has experienced players that mimic this guy's style. Basicly they are limited by the norms and laws in real life, they release themselves into the game. And their trapped inner person likes to rape (not that I let them), talk about raping, burn villages etc. God. I was having a cravin' for gamin' but I think you put me off. Might be a good thing too.

I lived in Eugene! I know Planet of Sand, I got D&D 3.5 there! Yay!

I really wonder if he's even read the core rules. I know i've seen some bad DMs but this guy is horrible, even in his rebuttal. I think I would have found a way to get the bikes during the break. Props to Anna for taking the high road.

I haven't finished reading the last of the Worst Dungeon Master posts, however, this "rebuttal" here perfectly fits in :) Thanks!

Yea, Annne, the guy was on the phone, talking loudly, you could have gotten away! I suppose in the end, it's all for the better, however, as if you had done that, we wouldn't have this wonderful story to read! Who says there aren't any modern horror stories anymore?
Poor Michael, he has the will and he has... umm.... ... well that's about it. Oh, he has a depressed goth lackey. I actually feel more sorry for her than anyone else in the story.

It was true 7 years ago and still true today: bad DMing is hilarious to everyone not present to it.

I haven't laughed so much since i nat 20'd with a kobold as my weapon.

Fat Guy in a Little Jacket anyone? Bad DM's are Bad DM's but damn if it isn't still funny when you run across stories like these. God Bless the Internet.

Who wants to take bets this guy didn't get accepted on the Biggest Loser show cause he rolled a 1?

Anyway, if the DM hasn't died of a heart attack or ever moved out of his parents basement, its a congrats; maybe he'll get a darwin award!

Oooo, old memories! Bad GMs! Nice, nice. And he does sound like the Sinpsons' comic book guy, doesn't he?

Sweet Christ...that this DM is so bad, and then has the audacity to try to *justify* his poor DM-ing techniques? And that ending threat, "Don't make enemies on the Internet"? What a childish, prat. Heaven forbid he ever gets his hands on any other RPG books!

I think the rebuttal is pretty ineffective and wonder why anyone bothered posting it at all? Funny though. I would run a game for you if you are ever in my neighborhood. I have run two campaigns, one lasted a year, the other has been going strong for eight months. Heavily role-play based stuff. Anyway, good luck!

I wonder what ever happened to this person? Have they grown up? Are they still looking for players? I hope, for their sake, they grew up and have started developing actual social skills.

What about flying-elf-girl? Same as above.

I know, I know, why should I care. I just do. I don't like seeing anyone with social skill issues make fools of themselves.

I'm not a good GM, I admit it, but this guy makes me want to slam his head into the wall.
Come on, breast and penis size? When will you ever use those in RP? I believe it is as much the players fault as the GM's though. I understand how you feel, you dont want to make enemies or make the poor guy feel bad, but if I was there, I would have walked out.
xD
Seriously, my worst mistake was when i let a cleric of Kord use his strength thingie to crit a spider.

Just about everybody who has gone RPGing with several different gamemasters has a story or two like this, but I must admit it was told very clearly and in ickily amusing detail. Kudos to the author. I only hope her subsequent experiences proved more positive. This makes me appreciate finding that rare person who is genuinely good at designing campaigns and running sessions.

All of these horrible situations are giving me awesome ideas. The misogyny of specifically saying "ogre tits are too big" as opposed to "ogre females are from a savage patriarchal culture so you're gonna need a custom job from civilization to get decent armor" offers the obvious "cut 'em off" response. So many horrible DM decisions could be made awesome if they followed their own logic to its grisly end.

The withered ogre priest tottered forward in the paint of war, joining Grisha to stare into the dying embers of the bonfire. "The path of krigna is an honorable one," he muttered dully. He shivered slightly and shuffled closer to the fire, continuing to mouth his passionless reassurance. "You will be held in high esteem by your fellows if there is no hesitation at the moment of krig. You understand, I'm sure." Grisha stared the the elder with a deep-buried disgust and wondered how many krigna he had birthed. Three before her in this war, probably every one from two wars before. It was a weary occasion for him, as all things must be weary in an ogre's fifth decade. Grisha considered in that moment that it might fall to her to strike him down when the time came. Certainly the experience ahead would steel her for that task. She found herself despising him already.
They turned to the gathered warriors, the priest producing the sickle-like blade and brandishing it above his head. "This is one who loves death and loves Harani who is our master! To kill his enemies Grisha will renounce life! Will you accept this warrior?" The warband chief stepped forward to loom over Grisha, staring at her eyes the way the priest wouldn't.
"Do you love death?" he asked. "I love death" was Grisha's only ritually correct response.
"Has your sorrow caused you to hate life?" "I hate life."
"For the death of Harani's enemies, would you kill yourself, your children, and any who loves life and hates death?" "Yes."
At this point, the priest supplied the knife to Grisha and prepared the coals. She had been shown how to do it, to pull the flesh away from her body and separate it with the knife as if carving a piece of fat away from dead boarhaunch. She felt a sudden desire to turn and stab the priest instead, but he looked suddenly formidable holding a hot coal in his charred black Harani-blessed hand.
She pulled on her breast and sawed through her flesh. Her whines became howls but after endless seconds her life-giving breast fell to the dust. She heard the hot coal sizzle in the blood flowing from her chest before she felt it, a heat that became both hot and cold before the pain became indescribable in its intensity. Grisha panted with exertion once it was done, but remembered the priest's words about hesitation. She quickly pulled her other breast away from her, lifting the blade with her injured side. His words began to haunt her, as she realized the horror of krigna. Now that she had cut and cauterized one breast, she had to do it again.

Ever since I first read this several years ago, I've been thinking that for all of the problems caused by the GM, the author also demonstrates some of the traits of the worst sort of player: overly-critical, obnoxiously know-it-all (...obviously qualified to judge his house rules after she had played D&D once, I believe?), and with an all-around superior attitude. While it's possible that all of this went down the way she says it did, I'm guessing that she wasn't as cool and glib and he wasn't as annoying...the truth is almost always in the middle somewhere. While she is a skilled writer, she is the sort of player that wouldn't get invited back for a second game to our group.

The folks I feel sorry for are Vincent and to a small extent Spider. I hope that he found a better GM and that she found better company with which to play.

You need to let it go man, it's been seven years and your custom rules still suck.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover"? She gave you the better part of an afternoon, you moron. Had she fled screaming at the first sight of your unshowered self you would have a leg to stand on with this claim.

Wow what an amusing tale, I just now heard of this story from another GM blog. I feel for you Anna. I have been a player and GM since 1981. Supposedly, I am quite good at it (at least my players think so, 2 of which have been with me for over 20 years.) I hope you have found a good group to game with and have not given up on this fun hobby. We game nearly every Friday over here in Mentor, Ohio, and we'd certainly let you game with us if you find yourself in the area.

good luck

Carl

i just take solace tn the fact that they will die alone and miserable. probably by their own hand.