In college, I gamed with this guy, sort of a an accretion to our social group, even though I could count maybe two people who actually liked him. He wore a black trenchcoat and smoked cloves all the time, which is not necessarily a bad thing in a WoD player, but it went way past diffident/pretentious into dissheveled, smelly, off-putting territory. He was competitive all the time, to the point of sabotaging a couple of sessions due to outside issues with him thinking he was going to get with a girl with whom I was in the midst of a complicated situation. Probably the topper was a Werewolf session with about eight players, which due to his poor sleeping habits, he slept through about half of. I was playing a cheerleader and high school dropout, still a little clueless about the whole Garou thing, but earnest in her loyalty to the pack. We were supposed to be rescuing a lost cub captured by the Black Spiral Dancers. Well, there was a controversy over what course of action to take. Rather than be overruled, I said my character was going to try to rescue the girl no matter what, and this guy goes on a long rant about how I was playing Werewolf all wrong, that I didn't understand anything about running in a pack, that my character was "retarded" and "useless" and so forth. I don't know what the hell his point was. Anyway, long story short, the Storyteller tells him in plain terms that my character has as legitimate a position as any to try to assume leadership in the pack, and this guy gives him a look like he's just claimed Vanilla Ice was appointed Secretary of the Treasury. The Storyteller tables the discussion of playing Werewolf correctly, and the action resumes. He and another player decide their characters are going to forcibly remove my character from the situation, which leads me to blow Willpower to avoid frenzying and attacking their characters. Which was the first demonstration of something I had been avoiding bringing up with him in the first place; my cheerleader's high Dex actually made her more effective than his combat monster in most situations. Naturally, after my character is subdued, he slashes her for aggravated damage with his magic claws, just for spite, leaving my character down one wound level (this will come into play later). So we get out of that situation and are on the run from evil, crazy werewolves, in a car running out of gas. I come up with, well, not a great plan, but a plan, to go into a gas station and bluff the attendant into pumping gas for us without revealing that we are a bunch of werewolves. Well, apparently, this guy has dozed off again, and about this time, he's sort of tuned in again and come to, and he's tired of the conversation. So he declares he's going to get out of the van, turn into a hulking werewolf war shape, and pump him some damned gas. His buddy, the other combat monster, agrees to this plan. The attendant, seeing two nine foot tall werewolves exit my character's van, shoots my character at point blank range, dealing exactly enough damage to my character to put her unconscious (remember what I said about taking a wound level earlier? Nice). And my character's natural form is human, so she is now unconscious, in her natural form, incapable of regeneration. Oh, and did I mention my character is the only one in the group with a healing power?
So this guy coolly assesses the situation, looks me straight in the eye, and says, "What the hell were you thinking? I think you just screwed us over, big-time."
