Now, I wasn't actually in the group when this occurred, but I've heard my friends tell it countless times: it involves a top, and a fat kid named Jacob.
It was about three or four months ago (I joined the group two months ago). The group was playing at F's house which is in Bumfuck, Woodlands, USA. At least an hour from any real city. F's parents own like forty acres of woods with walking trails everywhere.
So the group is playing D&D that night. Jacob is playing a Warlord. The party enters a room that is essentially nothing but traps. In the room, there is a giant, stone top, spinning about. Any time a creature starts its turn adjacent to this top, they take damage. The top, to Warlord Jacob, is important. He must destroy it.
In reality, the top ain't shit. The party is getting massacred by traps without their Leader their to help them out.
"Shit," says the DM, "the top spins out of the room." You know, in effort to make Jacob realize that it ISN'T IMPORTANT.
He gives chase.
The rest of the party is killed.
The group jokes the rest of the night about the top and Jacob fucking them over. No harm intended.
They go to bed. They wake up the next morning, 9AM. Jacob is gone. His stuff remains at the house (computer, books, etc.).
"He must be out for a walk," they agree, over breakfast.
11AM. Jacob has not returned. The group becomes worried. Begin search and rescue mission--two hours searching the woods for a fat kid named Jacob.
Two hours, as said, passes. They get a call from F's sister's friend: she found Jacob.
"Where?" the group asks.
"Ten miles towards the nearest city."
They pick Jacob up. Everyone goes back home, dropping Jacob off at his house as they do.
Jacob since quit the group and became a Sunday School teacher.
All because of a top.