So little brother joins in, halfway through the campaign

This is a classic copypasta used on 4chan.

Original Copypasta

So our game was going well up until a couple weeks ago - we play at one of the player's houses, and his mother began to insist that we let his little brother play (because he's been complaining he wants to all week). The player has privately been informed that the use of his house depends on it.

So little brother joins in, halfway through the campaign. To try and "learn" he's been reading through his big brother's books, except this pretty much amounted to looking through splat books for the pretty pictures.

He comes to the game and demands to be a demilich.

We just kind of sit there, unsure what to say. This is a level 9 game and the guy wants to be a demilich. Obviously, we tell him no. Cue half an hour of temper tantrum (he even started to cry twenty minutes in.)

The mother comes and yells at the big brother, big brother tries to explain the problem, and eventually he relents - if he gets to play his second idea, a dragon.

Now see, the other problem is the DM. He's an enabler. He was actually trying to suggest the kid play a lich wizard 4 instead. So when the kid wanted to be a dragon instead, guess what he got? Yep, a dragon.

A very young brass dragon. The first thing he does is declare that he's the party leader. When someone disagrees, he declares "I pin him to the ground and breathe fire on his balls."

His big brother tries to change his mind, but nope. "I am a big majestic dragon, I should be ruling the lesser races! You're all humans, so I'm the leader."

Ten minutes of crying later, we decide to play along. It's not so bad, the kid wants to carry on with the GM's story - so he can come out of it the mary sue leader, but whatever. He's not saying "Let's ditch this dungeon" or anything, so we're cool.

Until we get a message from the local king, that is.

The princess has been kidnapped by a dragon, he wants us to help, blah blah blah. (It's actually quite a good story but also really irrelevant.)

The kid immediately assumes that:

a) he's the dragon in question b) Asking for a ransom of 1,000,000gp while in the king's court is a clever idea.

He'd watched Austin Powers the night before, so when I say b) I mean he's yelling "ONE MEEEEEEEEEEELLION DOLLARS!", jamming his index finger in his mouth because he's a fucking retard, and giggling like a schoolgirl.

At this point everyone is holding their head in their hands. Our poor, poor DM is trying to hide behind his screen.

"What?" the kid asks.

Eventually, the DM comes to our rescue and pulls a solution out of his ass - the kid did do it, but another dragon stole the princess while they were going to see the king. Everyone saw that dragon, so everyone thinks the kid is joking and have a good laugh, then send us on our way.

Kid only pouts a little. He wants his princess back.

We manage to get to the dragon's lair and defeat it without too much hassle (the kid likes to go "Are you suuure?" and demand his AC and the dragon's stats be checked every time he gets hit), and there the princess is, tied to an altar. Everyone's preparing to wrap up (we're all ~18-20, but now that the kid is playing we have to stop before his 9PM bedtime) when the kid, looking through a DMG he swiped from his big brother, asks:

"How much exp is he worth?"

Hell, no.

The DM makes a show of looking at his notes and decides to go for a cop-out, saying she's not worth anything but he'll get "quest exp" for returning her.

So the kid calms down, at least for now. We take the princess and return...

And the kid demands his 1,000,000gp.

The big brother finally loses his temper. Unfortunately, that just means turning to the kid and saying "Don't be a retard, you can't do that."

"Fine," the kid says, giggling, "I shit on her chest."

If the demilich got an awkward silence before, this was a kind of anti-sound that nulled any noise in the room. Nobody believes - nobody wants to believe - that he just said that.

In the pause he adds, "and then I rape her."

And finally, breaking point is reached.

See, on the other side of the kid is Dave. We don't have any assholes in the group, but if we did it would be Dave. If he doesn't know a rule from memory he can find it in the stack of books we own in under a minute, he doesn't have much tolerance for faggotry, but he's a nice guy and prefers quiet roleplaying. He's a quiet guy, slow to anger (although even he has needed to be talked into staying by the DM).

At this point, Dave loses his temper.

"I cast Phantasmal Killer."

"What? No, you--" Enabling DM is cut off by Dave slamming the dice cup in front of the kid.

"DC 25," he says.

The kid rolls. Even before the dice stops moving he's reaching out to stop it and saying, "I rolled a thirty."

Dave's hand slams down over the dice, nearly hitting the kid. He leaps back into his chair. Dave lifts his hand.

It's a 10.

"See? Thirty," the kid says.

Before the kid can react, Dave snatches his character sheet and looks it over.

"Your will save is +7," he says.

"But I have special immunity to--"

Dave rips the sheet up.

The kid starts to cry, and launches an attack on Dave. Dave responds by grabbing the kid by the hair and dragging him off.

The others follow, partly to try and stop him but mostly to watch.

Everyone knows that sooner or later, the kid's screaming is going to attract the Mother. Dave smartly wrestles the kid and gets a grip on his arm instead beforehand, but doesn't let go.

"What's the meaning of this? What are you doing?!" The angry mother rushes over to console her bawwwing kid.

Pussy DM steps forward. "I'm sorry, ma'am, we won't do it agai--"

"He stole my cigarettes," Dave suddenly says.

If you hadn't seen what happened before, you'd think Dave was mad over this. We nod, because we know the truth. Dave has this odd nervous habit - his left leg starts to jitter and shake when he's angry - and right now he's leaning on big brother for support. Nobody dares fuck with his lie.

"WHAT?!" The mother finds his hard to believe, of course. The kid is quick to react too, pointing to Dave and screaming "LIAR!! LIAR!!!"

"Check his pockets," Dave says simply.

Guess what Dave managed to cram in the kid's pocket while he was shifting his grip?

And now?

The kid is STILL grounded. He's never going to play D&D with us again. Unfortunately, we're out of our only good gaming spot. The mother thinks it's our fault for being such a bad influence on him and doesn't want us back, and big brother guesses it will take at least six months to get on her good side.

We've been looking for somewhere since. We've tried a player's bedroom (crammed into a one-person room with a single chair didn't work), Dave's backyard (it started raining) and are currently holed up in his garage/basement. It's not a good place to play unless you want to LARP steampunk noir or something, but it's something.

And we've made a new house rule - Dave never has to pay for snacks again for a year.