The GenCon Champions Tournament

[TerryOBrien]

Year: 1981

Location: MECCA

Story: The Champions RPG tournament was special. Not only did it have some of the finest roleplayers as GMs, the players were equally as talented. And we played in front of an audience!

This year, the superhero team, the Rangers, were investigating a series of attacks on national monuments: painting the Grand Canyon dayglo orange, for instance. It was all a plot to destabilize the government to get the instigator of the plot sworn in as President. The Rangers managed to figure out the plot just in time to confront the man responsible on national TV, just before he was to be sworn in.

And he admitted everything. The reason, he was, was that he was perfect, and this was his way of being able to offer that perfection to everyone.

We didn't believe him, but after two attacks were quickly repulsed, he (the GM) turned to the players (us) and offered us perfection! We (as the characters) had to deny perfection (in character) in order to defeat him.

One player, who played Weatherman (a gonzo energy projector) said "I can be ever better than I am now? Lay it on me, man!" and proceeded to shed his protective suit and do handsprings and cartwheels across the White House lawn.

I, playing the contemplative martial artist Monk, said simply "You cannot grant from without that which must earned from within." Score one for our side.

"Mr. Perfect" approached the guy playing Steel. Steel was a 8' tall steel statue come to life, and the guy himself was about 6' 2" and 250 in a broad-shouldered way. He was offered a normal life again, with the opportunity for a family. At that, I remembered something from Steel's character sheet: Psychological Disadvantage: Big Momma Steel. I reached across to the player, put my hand on his shoulder, and said "Steel, we are your family."

The guy was wavering, but when I said that, his eyes lit up, and he lit into "Mr. Perfect" so that you could almost see the Stars & Stripes unfurling behind him.

In the end, everyone denied perfection, including Weatherman, who realized that if everyone was perfect, then he could never be the greatest at anything because everyone else would be just as great. At that "Mr. Perfect" started doubting himself, and so wasn't perfect any longer. That was his downfall.

But the scene wasn't over: one of the GMs came up and said "We have just heard from Walter Reed Hospital: President Reagan has just died on the operating table." Thanks to "Mr. Perfect," there was no one left in government who was fit to lead the country. That's when everyone turned to Sphinx, the leader of the Rangers, and offered him the office of President. After a moment's hesitation, the player accepted.

In the four hours we played that Sunday afternoon, we rolled dice exactly once. That should show how much of the game was roleplaying and not roll-playing.