Last week, I began the story of a recent problem we had with a former guild member — I’ll call her BabbleOn, because she could babble on and on. She was the kind of guild alumnus who just won’t move on to those greener pastures and that fuller, richer real life and as the primary targets of her incessant IM/email/game chat, the raidleader and I decided that something would have to be done … for the good of the guild. Yes, yes, for the good of the guild! Tranquility, security, pursuit of happiness must be preserved.

Now y’all who’re without sin can cast the first stone. With the benefit of hindsight, maybe it wasn’t such a hot idea … but at the time, my little plan seemed like the solution to all our problems, and the answer to all our prayers.

As the raidleader and I were discussing one day what to do with a problem like BabbleOn, I suggested that he could get rid of her by coming on to her. My reasoning (after a few drinks in a long PVP play session) was that one of two things would happen: 1. She would e-slap him and tell him never to talk to her again or, 2. Her husband would threaten to hospitalize him. I was kind of hoping for 2., because that would be some funny shit.

I forgot about possibility 3: She would dig it.

The Vent convo, pre-raid:

Raidleader: Well, I tried out that little plan of yours today with *BabbleOn’sGameName*.
Me: Really. How’d that work out?
RL: She’s INTO it.
Me: Heh, no shit. What’d you say, specifically?
RL: I said that we should be more than friends.
Me: That’s it?
RL: Ya.
Me: There’s your problem right there. You’re too subtle. What the fuck is more than friends? That’s like best friends forevah? Email pals?
RL: Ok, fine. If it’ll get her to shut up and leave me alone, will be worth it.
Me: Roger that.

Raidleader continued on with his e-flirting, she continued to dig it and I was blissfully left out of it. As far as I was concerned, the plan had worked like a charm. The one day, her husband must have spied on her emails or done some shoulder surfing, because she reprimanded the raidleader for going too far and said her husband was upset. Whatever. He should come kick my ass, was my idea. Anyways.

She only talked to me once during this time and it was to ask me if I’d champion the idea of her and her husband returning to the guild, y’know, assuming they would ever return to World of Warcraft, which they kind of already had since they logged in each night to talk to people. (Ya, I don’t get that either. I’m not that into people that I’d log into a game solely to chat.) I asked her in return, “Why would I even ask since you’ve said several times that you guys would never rejoin?” Her response, “It’s always nice to be invited.” At that point, I escaped into a battleground, frightened that I still had psycho aggro.

The one day, on a weekend it must have been, we were guild PVP’ing. Between matches, I noticed on the Ventrilo server two names I did not recognize in a private channel. Having admin rights, I popped into the channel and asked the intruders to identify themselves. They said they were friends of a guildmate of ours. “Who?” asked I. They made up a name.

Since our Vent server has always been password-protected, although we rarely change the password, this meant that some former member, or a previous guest of ours, had passed along the Vent info to his buddies in case they ever wanted a free, high-quality Vent experience one day … emphasis on FREE. I invited them to leave and the raidleader changed the password immediately, posting the new password on our private guildmembers-only message boards. We joked that this would also solve our problem with BabbleOn logging into our Vent all the time and we could just blame the intruders. Too bad, so sad.

Problems solved.

Within minutes of the password change, BabbleOn logged into Vent (with the new password) for her nightly assault on the guild.

The raidleader dragged me into the officer Vent channel.

RL: How THE FUCK DID SHE GET THE PASSWORD ALREADY?
Me: No idea. Maybe someone told her?
RL: Find out NOW.

I asked her directly, in /tells, how she knew the password since we had changed it only moments earlier to deal with intruders.

Me, reporting back: She said she saw the post on the boards.
RL: She doesn’t have members access. I just checked.

Still playing the middleman, I asked how she saw the post since her access to the boards was disabled.

Me, reporting back: She said she used her brother’s login that still has access. (Her brother was also a former member. He’s not psycho, as far as we can tell, although he did recently get married, so, y’know, maybe he is. Joke! Joke!)
RL: Motherfuck. Can’t we do anything right?
Me: Ok, I’ll tell her guildmembers only in Vent.
RL: Good. I’m gonna pull her brother’s access too. Fucking … (he trailed off into a string of expletives)

I delivered the message “current guildmembers only in Vent” and hoped this was the end of it. Of course, I’m never that lucky, but I had hope.

After a few moments of peace and quiet, after maybe one PVP battleground match, she started up with me in /tells. “WTF is RL’s problem?” “He’s such an ass.” “He’s been coming on to her for weeks now and she asked him to stop and he won’t and if he doesn’t, her husband is going to hurt him and all she wants to be is friends (freaky stalker was more like it) and bla bla bla” My text box was a sea of pink tells.

Me: Ok, I can’t take it anymore, she will not shut up.
RL: What’s she saying?

I read the sea of tells to him.

RL, after several expletives: End this now. It was your stupid fucking idea, it totally backfired, now you end this.
Me: Ok. Umm. Not sure how to word it.
RL: I don’t care.
Me: Well, I can’t exactly tell her you were conducting a social experiment, now can I?
RL: You. You were conducting the experiment. It was your idea. You.

And that was true enough.

Me, still not getting my hands dirty: How ’bout I say, you think it was inappropriate for her to suggest that you take your vacation nearby especially considering the personal problems you’ve been working on with your girlfriend lately? It’s harsh, but technically true. I mean, you were just messing around and she’s the one that stepped it up. That is true, right?
RL: Fucking. For the last time, yes.
Me: Ok, just making sure. So we’re agreed that I’ll use those words?
RL: Yes.
Me: Ok, here goes. Be prepared to get cursed at.

If game /tells could have a volume, WOW, did it get loud. She ended the dual tirades by promising never to speak to either one of us … ever … again. A bittersweet victory, I’ll admit.

Me: Ouch. You realize that she’s going to tell everyone what assholes we are. (She did.)
RL: Everyone already knows. (They do.)
Me: Heh, ya. That scheme didn’t work out as well as I thought.
RL: No shit.
Me: Meh, live and learn, live and learn.
RL: We taking this Warsong?
Me: Ya.

I could have a bright future in the scripted reality industry. Also, psychotherapy, executing Worst Case Scenarios, and repaving the road to Hell.