Okay, since we’ve got a go-ahead on non-DnD gaming stories, here’s one from my silly days of playing rifts.
Back in the day, I rolled up a seriously awesome Cyberknight, named Parik Starkman. With the crazy palladium rules on rolling stats, I got him a starting strength of 28 (improved to 36 with skills), a physical prowess of 23, physical endurance in the very high 20’s, and an IQ of 10. I played him like he was a combination of The Tick and Sir Galahad, always going forth against impossible odds to do his best to right wrongs and smite evil. The original intention of the first edition Rifts Rules was that the Cyberknight would be a truly awesome combat class: very good combat abilities, minor psychic powers, sky-high hit points and then they started with cyber-armor implants.
Unfortunately, the rest of my party consisted of a superhero (formerly a juicer who whined and whined to the GM until he was allowed to use the heroes unlimited rifts conversion rules), a dragon, a mega-damage monstrosity from Atlantis that looked like a gigantic owl on steroids, a line walker who was too smart to get involved in direct combat, and a Magic Tattooed man. Basically, ol’ Parik Starkman, heroic cyberknight and all-around do-gooding pile of beef, was the weakest character of the bunch, but I always played him as if he thought that he was invincible as long as he was acting on the side of justice and righteousness. This was boosted by the fact that he was one lucky SOB. Having his armor blown to smithereens just encouraged him to fight even harder and it was when Death was staring him right in the face that I consistently rolled natural 20s.
A common situation:
DM: Okay, Greg’s dragon has been reduced to a regenerating tongue hiding behind some rocks, Kristen’s line walker is out of PPE, Johnny Omega and Parik are trying to keep the demon busy so that everyone else can regenerate enough to get back in the fight. Johnny, what do you do?
Keith: I punch the demon in the effin’ mouth!
DM: Roll it!
Keith: 34 to hit! [DM sighs] 65 mega damage to the frickin’ face!
ODP: Awesome, Parik steps up with his psi-sword and slashes at the Demon’s leg! 18 to hit! [DM rolls, nods that I hit] 15 mega damage!
DM: Okay, the Demon isn’t happy with you guys. He power punches at Johnny Omega for a 26 to hit!
Keith: I dodge! Aw crap, I rolled a 3.
DM: So what’s that come out to?
Keith: Um… a 28. Heh heh. Safe!
DM: Oh for crying out loud. Alright, the Demon then smashes at Parik with his tail! 22 to hit!
ODP: Parik takes it like a man – he needs all his attacks this round.
DM: Ooookay… 55 Damage. How much MD did your armor have left?
ODP: Hm… 34.
DM: BOOM! You’re naked! You go flying back against the cliff and you’ve got a nasty dent in your cyber armor.
The other players, who all have vivid imaginations: Oh gods! My eyes! Put that thing away!
Next round, Johnny Omega continues fisticuffs with the Demon and hurts it some more while easily dodging. Parik picks up his NG-P7 Particle Beam Rifle with a gleam in his eye.
DM: Okay, Parik, your cyber armor is badly damaged, you’re wearing nothing but bruises and no one, including the demon, is particularly happy with this situation. What do you do?
ODP: I run up, jam my rifle into the demon’s belly, and unload my clip!
DM: *sigh* Alright, roll it.
ODP: Natural Frickin’ 20!
DM: Woah! What’s the damage on that thing?
ODP: I rolled a 4. On a d4 times 10. Multiplied by 10 for unloading the clip. Multiplied by 3 ’cause I’m level 6 and I criticaled.
DM: That’s…. holy #$*(&!
ODP: Twelve Hundred Damage.
DM: You are now wearing the fine, paste-like remains of the demon.
Parik was beaten into nekkidness so often that the DM eventually gave him magical, always-clean, indestructible boxer shorts so that no monster from the rifts would ever again have to make a horror factor check against Parik’s privates.
The DM of those adventures just got married last weekend. For my best man present, he made me a beautiful, full-color comic of the story of the Magic Boxers. I laughed until I was almost sick!