This started life as a drabble, but I was having way too much fun with it…
“I’m opening the chest,” declares Jenny. She is playing Arberon, the female Cleric of the Order of Saint Beryll the Pure.
“Inside the chest you see a suit of chainmail armour. It glitters in the bottom of the chest in the torchlight,” advises the DM with a knowing smile.
“I’ll cast Detect Magic on it,” Tony announces, rolling his dice. He’s playing Sylvanian, a High Elf magic-user.
“Oh, it’s magic alright,” confirms the DM. “It’s clearly of Elven craftsmanship and it has been designed to fit a female warrior. The chainmail suit comes in two pieces; a … well, a sort of skimpy codpiece, and a tiny section for the upper bodice.”
Comprehension dawns quickly to the only female in the room. Jenny rolls her eyes in disgust. “Men!” she mutters. “I’m not wearing a chainmail bikini, you pervy bastards! Forget it!”
“I’ll wear it,” pipes up Trevor, who’s was playing Barbie Thunderthighs; the buxom female Barbarian.
“Right Trevor…” The DM begins.
“Barbie,” corrects Trevor, keen to remain in character.
“Oops sorry … Barbie. You slip into the shimmering armour. It caresses your tanned skin like the richest silks and fits you like it a glove. Your voluptuous breasts are elegantly secured within the *cough* chainmail shirt, while your curvaceous hips are wonderfully displayed by the skimpy ‘codpiece’. The loins of the barbarian god: Crom, stir at the fine figure of womanhood he sees before him.”
“Oh, for feck sake,” grumbles Jenny. “Get a bleedin’ room, will ya?!”
“Oooh,” Trevor gushes, ignoring Jenny’s barbed comment. “Anyone fancy sparing with me. I’ll need to check out this armour before we bump into some real foes?”
“We’re in the middle of a campaign, Trevor!” Jenny points out. “We’re supposed to be rushing to the Haunted Woods. We need to be there before nightfall or we’ll likely be attacked by roving Orcs.”
“I’ll give it a go,” offers Peter, A.K.A Grimloch the Dwarf Fighter.
“Grimloch swings his axe, but at the critical moment his eyes are blinded by the light reflecting off your armour, Barbie,” explained the DM. “Or is it the scintillating sway of your ample breasts? That figure-hugging outfit must have stirred his pebble-like loins, despite the fact that he’s a stumpy little Dwarf.”
“Hey! Hang on a minute!” objects Grimloch. “Let’s not get Dwarfist here, shall we? There’s no call for that!”
Jenny makes retching noises in the background.
She’s pointedly ignored by the other players, all of whom are male. They’re having way too much fun at the moment.
“Mark that down as +3 Elven armour, Trevor,” instructs the DM.
Jenny slips back into character and Arberon the cleric slaps Barbie firmly in the plump derriere.
“Ouch! What did you do that for?” Trevor complains on behalf of his character.
“Doesn’t look like much in the way of armour to me, Trevor.” Jenny declares. “I hardly even took a swing.”
“Better make that +3 Elven armour against male opponents, Trevor,” amends the DM. “It looks like it doesn’t have any special attributes when it comes to female opponents.”
“Surely that depends on the female,” snickers Tony cheekily.
“Ewww, gross!” squeals Jenny. “You wish!”
“I bet your mate Celia would give Barbie one,” adds Tony, slipping fully out of character. “She’s a raving dyke.”
“She is not!” objects Jenny vehemently.
“Of course she is. She’s always wearing that hoodie with the female symbol on it. Everyone knows that means she’s a lesser!”
“You are such a loser, Tony!” sneers Jenny. “Just because she laughed when you asked her to that dance, doesn’t mean that she’s a … a …”
“Carpet-Muncher,” prompts the DM, also slipping out of character.
Jenny flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and anger reddening her cheeks. “Celia’s a feminist, not a lesbian, you cretins.”
“Same thing,” Tony affirms with all the confidence of a natural bigot.
“No, you’re wrong, Tony,” Trevor corrected. He too had slipped out of character – at least a little. “Feminism is a political thing, whereas muff-snorkelling is purely for sexual gratification. We girls need to stick up for each other in this male dominated society we are forced to survive in. We’ve been downtrodden for far too long!”
Trevor’s cheeks are flushed with righteous indignation as he finishes his speech.
The room has gone deathly silent. Even the gerbil in the corner is looking embarrassed. Time for a few runs on the treadmill, it thinks, and leave this to the idiots with only two legs. It promptly starts to make a racket in the corner, burning off a few calories.
The DM finally breaks the silence. “Erm … Trev?”
“Sorry, I was still sort of in-character,” Trevor blusters. “That’d be what Barbie would say…”
“Oh, yeah!” agrees the DM.
“Of course!” Tony adds hastily, “We knew that, didn’t we!”
“I can’t see Barbie attending any feminist meetings,” Jenny sneers, still more than a little miffed by the way her night has gone downhill, “At least not in that bikini. She’d be lynched.”
“Well, if you’ve all quite finished, perhaps you should set off again for the Haunted Woods?” suggests the DM, eager to change the subject.
“You started it!” objects Jenny, though she too is eager to get back into the game.
“I did not!” protests the DM.
“Oh really!” argues Jenny. “I suppose someone else came up with the idea of making a set of chainmail swimwear and hiding it in that treasure chest. I mean, let’s face it; you wouldn’t want to go swimming in it, would you? Even if it is elven made. You’d sink like a brick.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” admits the DM, his fantasies suddenly shattered. “Anyway … So you set off again down the path, heading for the Haunted Woods …”