Weirdest ASL experience

[Psycho]

I think Kemfenfelter's story was getting on for fairly good for a weird story but certainly not outstanding. Rest of you are pathetic. Is this really the weirdest thing that has ever happened to an ASLer? Come on, let's hear something really juicy.

In any case, what is so weird about playing ASL in bondage gear?

I think Scott Thompson had the weirdest experience when this was last asked a few years ago. http://forums.gamesquad.com/showthread.php?t=39750&highlight=creepiest

 

[rdw5150]

I think Scott Thompson had the weirdest experience when this was last asked a few years ago. http://forums.gamesquad.com/showthread.php?t=39750&highlight=creepiest

Agreed a creept story

Peace

Roger

 

[2 Bit Bill]

NOWSCON...Kathy. Nuff Said! :crosseye:

I'm sure this would also be close to the top for Nixon and Action Burk. :laugh::laugh:

 

[2 Bit Bill]

Agreed a creept story

Peace

Roger

That guy's partner in crime was Ronald :laugh:

 

[2 Bit Bill]

I like to think the weirdest is yet to come. Hopefully it doesn't involve an opponent in bondage gear.

Had an experience that I wouldn't want to repeat at a tournament in Toronto back in '99. It was impossible to find an affordable venue in the city. Just when it looked like we'd have to cancel the wife of one of the organizers secured some office space for us. It wasn't in a great area but it was economical, i.e., free. Since there was zero accommodation nearby, out-of-towners like myself camped on site. At first glance the game room looked great, with lots of tables and chairs. Then I realized that was it. Facilities were lacking. There was one washroom, consisting of one toilet and one sink. Oh oh. As well, after the first round when some of us ventured out for refreshment the neighborhood was looking decidedly sinister. There's nothing like a thriving drug trade to attract unusual people. Fortunately, the 7 -11 was within sprinting distance. I think it was then I chose to dispense with personal hygiene for the weekend. I was joined in that course of action by the rest of the tourney-goers. After a day and a half of hard-fought ASL the atmosphere was funky, to say the least. This had the unexpected benefit of limiting our interactions with the locals. By tournament's end they were giving our group a wide berth. Building maintenance probably had to air the place out for a month.

Significant Others have often commented about the "ripening" of ASL events. :smoke:

 

[Michael Dorosh]

I think Scott Thompson had the weirdest experience when this was last asked a few years ago. http://forums.gamesquad.com/showthread.php?t=39750&highlight=creepiest

The guy goes to all the trouble of worshipping the SS, buying the uniform, being photographed in it - but then can't, like, diet or shave his face to look the part. I always find that amusing.

The word the re-enactors use for picky critics is "stitch Nazi", incidentally, which is ironic in this case.

 

[Psycho]

Check out this creepy bastard:

I was looking for a game and my buddy Larry Zoet told me there was a strange old guy tucked away in the back waiting on an opponent. Apparently everyone was afraid of this guy but not because of his playing skills. I make my way to the back of the room and see this dude that looks like Col. Klink from Hogan's Heroes. Looks to be a charming fellow but I had no idea what I was in for. Take a look at this degenerate bastard!

I walk up to him and say "How's it going, old timer?" He looks me over and remarks "You got real pretty hair youngun" as he rubs at his bald pate. I tell him I'm looking for a game and a creepy smirk stretches across his face. He points behind him at some 3D maps he has with him and says "Why don't you pick out one of those that you like?" While looking through his maps I could swear he sniffed me from behind like a curious dog would. I look them over and comment on how cool his maps are. "I spend many hours alone in my basement working on them. I don't care much for human companionship. I like to watch videos while I work. Have you ever watched videos of Filipino's crapping in each others' mouths?" is what I hear from this odd fellow. I notice that they all seem to be scenarios dealing with the 7th SS division Prinz Eugen and ask if he is a former member or maybe knows someone that fought in the unit. I spend the next 17 hours listening to a bizarre tale about this formation. This strange person claims the unit was made up entirely of homosexuals and it was sometimes referred to as the "Kissenbiter" or "Pillow biter" division.

I pick out scenario FT63 Clear That Road! from the new Le Franc Tireur magazine. I say we can roll a die to determine sides and he bellows at me "I must always play the Prinz Eugen side!" Ok settle down old man. Maybe cut back on the viagra next time? He pulls out the counters and sets them aside. I set up since I am the defender and notice that he has shortchanged me a couple of squads. I point this out and ask for the counter tray to get my missing squads. I am informed that the scenario is too anti-German and he has fixed it for me. Well with me having so little experience and not wanting to cause a scene I go ahead and setup. The old man takes out a flask of Jack Daniels and pours himself a shot while I setup. During my setup this angry old fart tells any random passerby that he is going to "whip my hillbilly ass, spank me like a rented mule, and force me to play prison ASL with him." I dislike the trash talking and refuse to take part in it.

I am supposed to have an unbroken MMC on/adj to road A5-P4 after 6 1/2 turns. I set up units all along the road with a couple of squads with a LMG on G4 and G5. My MMG goes in M3. Got a few dummies scattered around the board as well. He enters with 12 squads and 3 leaders but he deploys a few units. He runs a bunch of halfsquads onto the board to try and draw my fire but I wait on a few shots to see what he is up to. When I am ready to fire I reach for his dice and from out of nowhere he whacks my hand with a riding crop! He barks at me "Nobody touches my dice but me!" He then offers me some dice from his bag and says "These should be fine" with that strange smirk of his. The dice he gives me feel sort of odd and I roll them a couple of times while he pours himself another couple of shots of JD. Every roll is a 7! Seems odd but I am beginning to think maybe he is trying to cheat me. I rethink my shots in case these dice are loaded to roll only 7s. I shoot down a
couple of halfsies and break a couple more of them plus a squad wandering around in the open. He starts to complain about my playing and accuses me of cheating. He gets up and stomps around which draws the attention of the room. While this is going on someone slips me some regular dice. I take down a couple of other units and my sniper also does some damage to his blundering attack. The first time I don't roll a 7 he screams "That isn't supposed to happen! You can only roll 7s with those dice!" He continues to berate me and spew the most vile, hateful things at me and for some reason, midgets.

After about five minutes of assuring him they are the same dice (and him finishing off a fifth of Jack) we continue with our game. He continues to drink and tear through my units. Any "no effect" he gets he calls cocked dice and rolls again. I beg to differ on one occasion and he strikes me across the face with that riding crop. Being a gentleman from the South and having manners I choose to ignore it this time. He continues to move in a long line so he can firegroup how he pleases. I rally as many guys as I can and try to slow him as much as possible. He jumps into CC with my unit in the F8 building which he claims is the local adult bookstore. He really seems to enjoy taking that building and spends a few minutes murmuring to himself and drooling on the map. The next few turns are spent rallying and breaking some of his squads while KIA or K/ing his halfsquads. It seems for every halfsie I take down two more show up. The crazy old guy tries to force his liquor on me but I refuse. I only drink cool refreshing water so as not to cloud my thinking during a game. He immediately fills an ice bucket and starts to guzzle JD from it. Alternately sobbing and hissing at me for another hour or so is followed by more venting about midgets. Not sure what that deal is but am afraid to ask. By now he is so far gone that I am getting back into the game.

I tell him I need a bathroom break but he won't let me leave the table. I tell him he should go since he has been guzzling for a couple of hours now. He says he has gone a couple of times during the game already. I say "I don't remember you getting up to go to the john" and he slurs "Who says I got up?" I ask him where he went and he says "One of these ice buckets down here under the table." I say "Which one?" He says "I lost track." and takes another long pull at one of them.

Some children run up to the table and ask if we are playing a game. The disgusting old pervert tells them he has some candy in his pants if they want to reach in and get it. Before he can emotionally scar these children I hand them some money and tell them to run to the vending machines for candy and don't come back. He growls some very offensive things at me and spits in my face. A half hour lecture about being molested by a midget wearing a clown outfit solves the mystery for me. It also explains the shoes.

We are now down to the last turn and I think I might be able to win this one despite everything he had against me. He has units surrounding the cliff area and I have one squad left in O3 and one in N3. I do as much damage as possible but he still has too many troops. It is going to come down to his last turn and maybe a CC. The old man can barely keep his head off the table by now from the pills and booze he has consumed. His eyes seem to roam over my young body and I can see him undressing me in his mind. I shudder to think what unspeakable acts are going on in that perverted, alcohol-soaked brain of his. Why isn't this oddball locked up in a padded room somewhere with a coloring book and some crayons? I can smell the liquor oozing from every pore as he sweats profusely worrying about losing with his precious 7th SS unit. He croaks at me through his cracked, old man lips "You will never defeat me." and flings his dice at his dicetower. They bounce off and one falls onto the floor while the other bounces into the trash can behind him. "Snake eyes!" he shouts at the top of his lungs. I point out that he can't even see either of his dice and he begins to spit at me and hurl obscenities about me and my family and anyone within hearing distance. I relent and accept his "roll" and of course fail my MC with the squad. I now have one squad and he rushes me with about 5 squads. I fire as much as possible and send many of the "pillow biters" fleeing the battlefield. He has one final shot at me before he will be forced to try CC for the win. He takes a lowly 2 flat attack and forces me to take a 1MC. I don't make the roll and the game is over.

The old man finds renewed strength and stands erect for the first time in hours. He rips open his pants, pulls out "Little Jeff" and tries to urinate on me. Luckily he doesn't have the range with his "LMG" and soils his 3D map instead of me. He then starts to do what appears to be that jig that Hitler did when he defeated France. This however looks like a puppet controlled by a epileptic marionette having a seizure. Losing his balance he falls over his Fruit of the Looms wrapped around his ankles and falls in a heap. Lying there in his own waste and muttering expletives that even someone with Tourette's would find appalling, a person could only feel sorry for this pathetic old geezer.

Hope we can get in a game again next year Jeff. :clown:

I might have embellished a bit. He was slightly more drunk than I let on.

 

[A/CSM Bird]

The guy goes to all the trouble of worshipping the SS, buying the uniform, being photographed in it - but then can't, like, diet or shave his face to look the part. I always find that amusing.

The word the re-enactors use for picky critics is "stitch Nazi", incidentally, which is ironic in this case.

This brings to mind a guy I met in Calgary at a militaria show. I was with J.J. Federowicz and we were manning a booth selling his books. In the next booths were the German militaria guys. Some private collectors some active sellers. Our local contact was a friend of John's that had a very nice private collection he had scrounged up while he was stationed in W. Germany with the LdSH. He told us to watch out for the guys at his adjacent booth who were selling 'German' militaria ( by way of somewhere in the U.S.) I got a real education that day in what was real and what was fake. One guy at this booth was the spitting image of Heinrich Himmler, male pattern baldness, wire rimmed round glasses, little AH 'stache on the lip, the works.
We called him Nazi Bill. Him and his pals would play Nazi dress up and swan about in the bush taking pictures of themselves in their (Alabama) German uniforms. IIRC they actually had a store.

Michael does this cat sound familiar to you?

 

[Michael Dorosh]

This brings to mind a guy I met in Calgary at a militaria show. I was with J.J. Federowicz and we were manning a booth selling his books. In the next booths were the German militaria guys. Some private collectors some active sellers. Our local contact was a friend of John's that had a very nice private collection he had scrounged up while he was stationed in W. Germany with the LdSH. He told us to watch out for the guys at his adjacent booth who were selling 'German' militaria ( by way of somewhere in the U.S.) I got a real education that day in what was real and what was fake. One guy at this booth was the spitting image of Heinrich Himmler, male pattern baldness, wire rimmed round glasses, little AH 'stache on the lip, the works.
We called him Nazi Bill. Him and his pals would play Nazi dress up and swan about in the bush taking pictures of themselves in their (Alabama) German uniforms. IIRC they actually had a store.

Michael does this cat sound familiar to you?

I worked in his store. :laugh:

He didn't have a mustache when I knew him, though. And the German militaria was mainly legit, though much of it was reproduction. Some from Janke tailors in Germany, an original 1933-45 era contractor who was still producing stuff. Bill wanted us to buy the Swedish Army surplus,though, because he bought them for 20 dollars a piece or so, sent them to a tailor to have pants cut into lower pockets (the material wasn't even close to matching) and then turned around and sold you a uniform for 300 bucks. The uniforms didn't even look close to authentic, but re-enactment at that point in time was still pretty crude compared to what it would become say 10 years later. You go on ebay today and you can find affordable stitch-perfect replicas that just didn't exist at the time I worked there.

Bill is still around selling firearms, militaria, etc. The German re-enactors were legit, too - the Canadian Forces Base had them come out for some public shows back in the early 80s IIRC.

Bill was not fond of his nickname but he was universally known by it - still is, in some quarters. It did not represent his actual political leanings. Last I checked he was commissioned into the Cadet Instructors Cadre with the CF, and a background check would have prevented that if he was truly in any unsavoury groups. I would also personally never have worked for him if any of that was true. That said, he was an officer cadet in the KOCR at one time and left the CF reserve years earlier but that was all many years before my time. I was a part timer in his store, selling guns and ammunition and badges while in university.

The re-enactment unit he had portrayed Großdeutschland, rather than an SS unit - they were well equipped, with an MG34 (blank-firing), two 81mm mortars (legal to own and operate in Canada without any special license), a Borgward troop carrier, and while I was at the store, Bill built a Maultier halftrack out of a Ford truck and a Universal carrier. Trouble was, the group had no Allies to fight and an internal focus. They did, however, send guys off to some public displays, notably the 50th Anniversary of D-Day in Chicago, and contributed to other stuff like Cyrus Lee's books on uniforms and equipment. I was a member of the group for a couple of years myself, and a few of us worked to "legitimize" the group. I liaised with Cyrus Lee regarding the books, for example, while a couple of guys in Red Deer got an article in their local newspaper - with photos of them wearing German uniforms(!) - talking about the value of historical re-enactment. It never really went anywhere, though, and I started a Historical Section with my reserve army unit that was ultimately more rewarding. It was certainly less morally ambiguous presenting ourselves in Canadian uniforms, I got paid to do it, and it was appreciated by the Regiment.

Got to talk to a lot more vets, though the GD unit did have contact with one or two veterans also; Bill was close with a Nebelwerfer unit veteran (Unteroffizier on the Leningrad front) who hung around the store and told stories before he passed. Not to speak ill of him, but people did feel that Bill gave off a weird "vibe" and I was not a friend of his - just worked for him. I've had no contact with him for 15 years or so.

Having said all that - I'm impressed by your memory. You got him down to a T.

 

[King Scott]

I think Scott Thompson had the weirdest experience when this was last asked a few years ago. http://forums.gamesquad.com/showthread.php?t=39750&highlight=creepiest

Yes, I think that I have had some of the weirdest ASL experiences.

I've played against the Nazi...I've played against a trans-sexual...I've had an opponents blood spilled on my counters...I've met Psycho in person...I'm a regular Freak-Magnet!!! :nuts::laugh::clown:

Semper Fi!
Scott

 

[A/CSM Bird]

NOWSCON...Kathy. Nuff Said! :crosseye:

I'm sure this would also be close to the top for Nixon and Action Burk. :laugh::laugh:

Oh yeah, leave us hangin', c'mon with a teaser like that there's a juicy tale to be told, cough it up, boy:blab:

 

[2 Bit Bill]

Oh yeah, leave us hangin', c'mon with a teaser like that there's a juicy tale to be told, cough it up, boy:blab:

I wanted to let Nixon tell the tale. He was the Tournament Director. :smoke:

 

[2 Bit Bill]

Yes, I think that I have had some of the weirdest ASL experiences.

I've played against the Nazi...I've played against a trans-sexual...I've had an opponents blood spilled on my counters...I've met Psycho in person...I'm a regular Freak-Magnet!!! :nuts::laugh::clown:

Semper Fi!
Scott

but you haven't shared a room with him...yet! :laugh:

 

[footsteps]

but you haven't shared a room with him...yet! :laugh:

Do they give him a room at tourneys? Probably safer to simply chain him up to post in the back alley. You know, to scare away the dumpster divers and assorted vermin. Also handy as diversionary bait, should zombies descend on the proceedings. Come to think of it, the zombies would likely assume he's one of them. Sheesh, not much of a watchdog.

 

[King Scott]

...to scare away the dumpster divers...

They are now known here in California as "freegans"...as in they only eat food that they get for free. Some stores have resorted to locking their dumpsters or caging them. Freegans even rate the stores on the quality of their dumpster-delicacies...Trader Joes ranks at the top.

I wish that I was making this up.

Semper Fi!
Scott

 

[trevpr1]

Midnight one October - about 1998, perhaps '99. I'm stood on the beach in Bournemouth looking at Ray Tapio stripped to his Y fronts standing almost hip-deep in the English Channel and shivering slightly.

 

[AZslim]

Midnight one October - about 1998, perhaps '99. I'm stood on the beach in Bournemouth looking at Ray Tapio stripped to his Y fronts standing almost hip-deep in the English Channel and shivering slightly.

Y fronts? Sorry, I only speak Yank.

 

[A/CSM Bird]

Midnight one October - about 1998, perhaps '99. I'm stood on the beach in Bournemouth looking at Ray Tapio stripped to his Y fronts standing almost hip-deep in the English Channel and shivering slightly.

Y fronts? Sorry, I only speak Yank.

I think those are tighty whities?

 

[Michael Dorosh]

Five seconds on google cleared it up.

In Britain the term "jockeys" has not caught on, and briefs are often referred to as "Y-fronts".

The Winnipeg term, I take it, is still "ginch"...?

 

[AZslim]

I think those are tighty whities?

I thought it was tidy whities. Still a VERY disturbing picture.