Dungeons & Donuts 2e It's been a few months since I've posted my last story, I figured it's time for another one. I've already told you about hambeasts ruining my books/dice/entire gaming session with bodily fluids, lets go on with greasy ogres throwing slurs at me. So after my previous excursion, I decided against allowing new players (except for Miguel) into my games. I stuck to my regular players: a group of two humans (including me), two smallfats, and one hamplanet. I show up for one of our established campaigns' session, and one of the smallfats informs me that another player wants to join. "Who?" I ask, not knowing the doom that lay before me. "She wants to play a tiefling sorcerer." my smallfat player explains.  "I don't allow tieflings in this campaign, it doesn't make sense."  "Yeah, I told her that, but she insisted.."  "Let me talk to her." I enter my FLGS, and lo and behold there was an extra hamplanet in the solar system. She was greasy, acne-ridden, and smelled like she had been bathing in a litter box. The my planet looks at me with the face: the "I haven't gotten laid in three years please be nice" face. I approach the monster with my customer service smile, and start to explain that tieflings aren't allowed within this campaign, that we'll be running another campaign later in the month that allows them.. nope. This womayo wants to argue with me. She opens her grand maw and starts telling me my lore doesn't make sense; that even if there aren't any other tieflings, she should be able to play one because this is "just a game and she wants to"; that I'm a shitty DM for not being able to work her character in. "Sorry, ma'am. I don't think you're a good fit for the table."  "Don't ma'am me! You just a faggot who doesn't want girls at your table. I'm too much for you to handle." At this point, everyone's face is painted with surprise but one: the owner. He waltzes over, and politely informs her that she will never ever be welcome within the shop again.