(We’re playing “Pen & Paper” in a group of five, not including our game master. We’re all playing characters who know some kind of magic. In game, we’re still sitting at the breakfast table, when we get an invitation to another place. We decide to head out.)

Guy #1: “Wait, I make myself one more cheese sandwich and stuff it into my pocket. I’ll wrap it into a napkin!”

(He’s getting odd looks from all of us, but okay. Fast forward six in-game-hours.)

Guy #1: *suddenly remembering* “Wait, I still have my sandwich! I pull it out.”

(Our Game Master rolls his dice.)

Game Master: “The sandwich bites you on your hand.”

Guy #1: “Ow! Can I distract it? Do I have something else like meat with me?”

Game Master: *takes his dice* “Odd or even?”

Guy #1: “Odd!”

Game Master: *rolls and sighs* “Yes, you do have a small piece of meat with you.”

Guy #1: “I feed it to the sandwich, in hopes it will let go of my hand. This time… Even!”

Game Master: *rolls with a pained look on his face* “It lets go of your hand and munches away.”

Guy #1: “Awesome, I want to keep it! Does someone have a lunchbox for me? Odd!”

Game Master: *rolls and buries head in his hands* “Yes… Oh, what did I do?!”

(By now the whole table is laughing hysterically.)

Guy #2: “Yep; I do! Here, take this!”

Guy #1: “I poke some holes for air into it and carefully put Cheddy, the cheddar sandwich, into his new home.”

Game Master: “What the h*** do you want a biting sandwich for?!”

Guy #2: “He could serve it to people he doesn’t like and have it bite them on their noses!”

(So, this is how we ended up with a growling, biting cheese sandwich as a pet. Sadly, it didn’t survive the session; now he has a living silver spoon, instead.)

(My friends and I are playing a tabletop roleplaying game similar to “Dungeons and Dragons.” We have three players and our Game Master. We have been given a fairly standard fetch quest, gathering up a bunch of items to be brought back. One part of the quest leads us to a series of caves that requires us to swim through an underwater lake. That forces us to leave most of our weapons and armor behind. The three of us venture into the cave, armed only with what little we can carry through the water. Our wizard, though, has a magical dagger. Once a day, it can cast the spell “Stand Still.” As the name implies, the target is frozen in place, unable to move. The caverns are largely uneventful, and at last we reach the macguffin. In this case, it’s a crystal on a pedestal. I check it for traps, then pick it up. This causes a stone door to rise, opening the way. But it also reveals a cave troll! Properly equipped, it will be no match. But in our current state, it is a dangerous foe. Our wizard draws his dagger.)

Wizard: “I cast–”

Me: “Wait! Is it in the doorway yet?”

Game Master: “Uh, yeah. The troll is in the door.”

Me: “Now!”

Wizard: “I cast Stand Still!”

Game Master: “The troll is frozen, its body blocking the exit.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “You… Wait, you what?”

Me: “I put the crystal back on the pedestal.”

Game Master: “You… Oh, man. The door closes, bones snap, and flesh pops as the massive stone crushes the troll.”

Me: “I pick up the crystal.”

Game Master: “The door opens, blood and viscera dripping…”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “The door closes.”

Me: “I pick the crystal up.”

Game Master: “The door opens.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “The door closes.”

Me: “I pick the crystal up.”

Game Master: “The door opens.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “IT’S DEAD!”

Me: “Just checking!”

(I play Dungeons and Dragons in a bar with some friends once a week. This particular session we are trying to figure out if there is still some damaging magic left in a room. We’ve just teamed up temporarily with some “bad guys,” one of whom is a goblin. My character is a dwarf. While the other players are discussing how to test the room…)

Me: “I pick up a goblin and throw him into the room.”

(Yes, I tossed a goblin. Because I am a dwarf, and nobody tosses a dwarf.)

(I’ve finally gotten around to playing the video game, “Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.” Since I’ve never played before, I talk to all the characters standing and walking around. In the cantina on the starting world, I have an encounter with one of the patrons.)

Woman: “Where did you get those clothes, a trash compactor in the lower city? And where are those drinks we ordered?”

Real Me: “Wow, rude little brat.”

Me In Game: “Who are you, and why are you bossing me around?”

Woman: “Why is the help here so incompetent? One word from Daddy and I could get you fired!”

Real Me: “Holy crap, it’s a virtual Not Always Right story.”

Me In Game: “I don’t even work here!”

Woman: “How dare you speak to me like that? Daddy’s going to hear about this!” *runs off*

Real Me: “Okay, this was some impressive realism for a Star Wars game.”

(Later, when I left the cantina, she showed back up and set some thugs on me. I shot down her thugs, Han-Solo-style, and she ran off screaming for Daddy. It’s a good thing most real-life stories don’t go that far!)

Way back in the 1990s, when computers were new and floppy disks roamed the earth in great herds, my parents bought a new game for us all to play on the family PC.

We installed it, booted it up, and a happy little computer chip appeared on the screen, welcoming the player. Then, he dramatically announced the arrival of the game’s villain: his exact words were, “A Virus Has Been Detected!”

Cue my dad shutting down the game, uninstalling it, and running diagnostics on the family computer for the next several hours.