I thoroughly enjoyed my DnD campaigns. I've done some crazy stuff. Lesse, We had a half man/half boat character in our party. As he said, "You know when a sailor is on the high seas alone? You know those holes in the side of the boat? Yeah...By the way, he has a half brother that's a boat with a arm for a mast that can raise and lower. It raises on a daily basis with his middle finger pointed up at the sky to say F YOU GOD! F YOU!" Consequently, a battle occurred later in which I had him transform and then we all climbed in him and we cast a levitation spell and floated down.
Another time, we had him as a dwarven bard with a band. And what were his skills? The ability to charm people, especially men, and the ability to make grass grow 8 ft high. First 20 minutes, I get hit in the face with an axe, partner attacks the lvl 1 gnoll, misses. Dwarven bard jump kicks gnoll as I stand up, then gnoll is kicked into me. My health hits 0. My partner fumbles, loses his sword. Bard dances, makes the grass grow 8 ft. Partner can't find sword. Bard's partner casts dancing lights or some such, setting the grass on fire, (ranger) scaring his bear (named Barry) and the gnoll. Finally, the gnoll slips and falls on my partners sword, killing itself on a rock. All of us being lvl 3 and the gnoll lvl 1. 4 of us, plus a bear. Sad.
Another occasion my character died, and Tom, the bard/boatman, is a bard who can sing 2 songs at once. So he proclaims to the people, "Good people! I will perform a great deed tonight, in the midst of this blazing tavern on fire behind me. I WILL RAISE THE DEAD!" So, he raises my dead body with an animate dead spell, and declares "It's a miracle! Let us rejoice with song and dance! I will spin a tune for this miraculous wonder!" And he entrances them all, then points to the burning tavern, "LOOK CHILDREN! BALLOONS!!!!" Children run and burn, parents get upset, then he points again and tells the parents "LOOK! A MARRIED GAY COUPLE ATTEMPTING TO ADOPT AN AFRICAN CHILD!!!" Then they burn.
We're some sick people. 