Sometimes in D&D the stupidest ideas are the most delightful. Amusingly, they are often still the most stupid.
In my last D&D session, 3 members of the party were sneaking around a Keep inhabited by Giants looking for the phylactery of a lich we believed might be hidden there. They were going down a corridor when ambling along came a strong giant woman carrying a massive tureen filled with piping hot lamb soup.
The person playing the Kobold Rogue turned to the rest of the party and asked, “Should I jump into the soup?”We, of course, immediately started making fun of him and pointing out flaws in his plan:
Other Players: “That’s ridiculous!”
Him: “But I’m small and could easily fit into a giant tureen of soup”
Other Players: “What possible advantage could you gain by doing so?”
Him: “I could attack the giant who tries to eat the soup!”
Other Players: “But it’s piping hot! You’ll die.”
Him (to DM): “How much damage would the soup do to me?”
DM: “10 damage a round.”
Him: “I guess you guys are right. Who knows how long I could be in there.”
DM: “Well actually it looks like she’s about to enter into a room, so there’s a good chance she’ll put the soup down in thirty seconds or so.”
The player mulled things over. Then he spent the next several minutes trying to convince himself NOT to jump into the soup, like it was this obviously great idea but maybe not worth the risk. Finally, in a delightful change of stance, we pushed him over the edge and convinced him to jump into the soup:
“It’s only 50 damage!”
“You’ll barely be bloodied.”
“The giant won’t see it coming!”
“You can stab him in the eye!”
“Or threaten him!”
So he did it! His character nodded to another group member, who smoothly distracted the giant servant by throwing a rock down the corridor. As she turned her head, he leapt into the soup tureen, rolling a very nice stealth check to stay hidden. He ended up rolling another very nice acrobatics check to balance against the inside of the bowl but not physically in the hot soup, so the DM only dealt him 25 points of damage.
As it turned out, the taureen was placed on a table and NOT immediately eaten by a hungry giant king, as we all had been hoping. The rogue awkwardly climbed out of the soup and then met up with his friends who had snuck into the room the old fashioned way, by creeping in when the serving giant had gone.
The whole endeavor, not surprisingly, had been a complete waste of time.