"I wanna be a warforged bee Druid"

Me: Okay.  Where are you gonna keep your bees?


Druid: Inside of me.

Me: …That might cause you some problems.

Druid: No no, see, that’s the cool part–I’m gonna be like Iron Man.  "Every second, a cluster of bee shrapnel tries to work its way closer and closer to my heart"

Me: Bee…bee shrapnel.

Cleric: Brapnel. Shrap-bees.

Rogue: *whispers* Beepnel.

And that was when I lost control of the session.

[[Context: the party had encountered a non-aggressive skeleton and were trying to stop the paladin from attacking it. One player had earlier been polymorphed into a lobster for unrelated reasons]]

Lobster: “Before he attacks, can I try to intimidate him out of it?”

DM: “From [the bard]’s pocket?”

Lobster: “Yes.” [Rolls a nat 20]

DM: (while the rest of the party is collectively losing its shit) “[Paladin], you’re moving towards the skeleton, but out of the corner of your eye you see, emerging from [bard]’s pocket, two little claws. A sense of terror begins to grow in your chest as the claws open and close, going ‘snip, snip,’ and with each little snip you feel your heart thud. You are rendered immobile with fear.”

A Bard, a Paladin, and a really squishy Druid

Context: My character is a druid dragonborn whose call to Druidism was seeing the majesty of a dragon. She has a tendency to panic-transform into random creatures she has seen. She also only has 9 hp in base form.

DM: you encounter some quite terrifying and strong orcs.

Chao-evil Bard: I use the druid as a shield.

DM: roll initiative to struggle.

Me: *Nat1*

DM: you use her as a shield.

Me: can I roll to transform out of panic?

DM: What?

Me: I’ve seen a crow, a parrot, a kitten, and a dragon. Can I roll to panic-transform?

DM: wh- sure, go ahead. Roll for fear.

Me: *Nat20*

Paladin: critical transformation!

DM: *is done with my bs* roll to confirm a critical.

Me: *Nat20 true critical, the DM looks so angry*

DM: …fine. In a somehow critical transformation, the druid you were using as a shield transforms into a half-sized dragon in front of you. Roll strength to hold on.

Bard: *giving me the most angry look, rolls a 3* fuck.

Me: *shit eating grin* i intimidate the orcs into running away.

DM: just fucking roll, man.

*the paladin is cackling*

Me: *rolls a 17*

DM: *sighs* the orcs flee, two of them piss themselves, and they drop some of their gold and equipment on the way out.

Paladin: that was SPECTACULAR.

Bard: I hate you so much.