House Rules and Hooligans
Buckle up, luvs, here’s some BS my players pulled on me once.
In one game, it was known that Bags of Holding were Specifically Fragile and you had to protect them in some way because if they were in any way significantly compromised, their contents would spill out and the bag would be rendered essentially inert.
So my party arrives to meet the Boss of Chapter One in what is the fifth story we've told with these characters so they're well-leveled, equipped, and know each other's schticks. The plan is they are to have a little discussion and then get slapped, and the Evil Mage would mock them and Ejector Seat out of the scene. So I describe the scene and my players quietly whisper amongst themselves. I grow concerned because I know their bullshit.
My Sneaky Sneaker That Sneaks says "I throw my bag of holding at him."
"You... the bag. That weighs-no matter what-only two pounds and has a quarter of your loot, at your enemy who you canonically know can teleport and has excellent reflexes."
"Ha. Okay, uhm, fine, you throw your bag at the mage and he-"
“I shoot the bag two-thirds of the way to the Mage,” Says my Shooty Shooting Archer.
"The Mage?" I ask, assuming I heard incorrectly and my players are for some reason being a little rude and ignoring our house rule of "Let people monologue a little before stabbing them" rule.
"Okay, so you fire and you destroy a bag of holding, good for you." At this point I know there's something up. They are smirking. "What?"
The Righteous Smiter That Hammers nods sagely. "Conservation of motion - moving portals impart momentum on objects that emerge from them." I nod in agreement, since we had established that detail during a physics discussion about a portal jump on a dragon one time. "The bag spills its contents at the velocity it was moving before it was destroyed."
I hesitate, then extend a hand. The Rogue smugly passes me the sheet of paper with the contents of their Bag of Holding on it. I look it over. I review the scene thus far. My players wait quietly but all smiles. Dice roll behind my screen. I sigh.
"The Mage raises his arms as he speaks and is momentarily confused as a small duffle bag is thrown at his face. He doesn't have time to perceive the arrow pierce its side. In a fraction of a fraction of a second, 900 coins, twenty-four weapons of various kinds, food supplies, two sets of armor, and apparently a dead raccoon you fucking gremlins, erupts back into this material plane and impacts the Mage dead on at thrown object speed. I'm not even rolling for damage; physics rolls in your favor and the ENTIRE FIRST ARC'S BOSS DIES UNDER A FUCK TONNE OF YOUR SHIT."
I recovered and had them have to deal with a bandit king taking over the power vacuum that was left but dammit. Players are a menace to sobriety.
