When we realised we were horrible people...
We stumbled on a sleeping (enemy) Minotaur and our sorcerer decided to charm it, so we could get him to assist in fighting through the dungeon and so he wouldn’t kill us.
Our horrifically violent shunned Gnome monk decided we could eat him if that didn’t work out.
3 dungeon rooms in, I suddenly name him Mike, as he’s helped us and is now injured in the line of duty.
Cleric: “Should I heal Mike?”
*DM rolls dice, looks up and grins silently*
Me (woodland based druid): “I think Mike is becoming slightly, uhh…disenchanted(?) with us.”
Sorcerer: “I pat Mike on the shoulder, say ‘Good fight buddy, thanks!’…then cast shocking grasp”
DM: “He’s stunned.”
Ranger: “I’m going to put him out of his misery before he kills us. I’ll roll to slit his throat.”
*rolls nat20, doing 48 damage*
DM: “You completely sever his head. Well done, you killed your buddy, Mike.”
Me: “A moment of silence for Mike’s friendship and sacrifice.”
*Silence, some giggling*
Gnome Monk: “Did the electrocution cook him, at all?”
Me: “Don’t be so dishonourable, he’s barely fallen to the floor! I’ll pour one out for you, Mike.”
Me:“Wait, can we use Mike’s skull as a helmet for Goat*?!”
*Goat is a…well, super healed goat with slightly vague supernatural intelligence and a full set of armour. This is what happened when you have the rule “If you can make the story good enough, you can do it.”