Everyone wanted more Jim, and so I have more Jim. Kami be with me, I never expected to dive further into the hellhole of memories better left cast into the Land of Yomi where they belong. (I'm a Shintoist, so please forgive my odd metaphors and colloquialisms.)

This is admittedly a tamer Jim story, but don't worry, I'm saving the best - or rather, worst - for last. Jim in this case was wrangled under some amount of control since we weren't hosting the game at his house and one of the other players was also the type who would fist-fight over a game. It was a 3.5 edition Pirate-themed campaign, and everybody had been excited to play (except for Jim).

The campaign took place on the border of the Elemental Planes of Water and Air, which I took some creative liberty with - it was an infinitely-sized ocean surface as opposed to bubbles and stuff. There were no 'lands', just islands composed of coral or wood. Everybody was on a ship under the captain, an NPC around 15th level. This was the only thing required of the characters: they be on the ship for the main story, or with the crew. They weren't stuck; players were free to leave and in fact encouraged to go on personal missions and quests that they come up with for themselves, provided they came back to the ship for the main story.

This bothered Jim. It bothered him a lot. Not because he could do personal missions, but because somehow he thought everyone was railroaded permanently onto the ship and could never leave under any circumstances ever.

So, in Jim's pettiness, he decided that it would be AWESOME to be difficult, as usual. At least he wasn't trying to murder everyone this time around.

Jim created a character I'll affectionately (/s) call Mercenary. Mercenary was a super tough half-gold dragon jerk with a heart of jerk who did absolutely nothing unless he got paid to do it. He signs up to be a part of the crew, gets on the ship, and then sits in a chair and immediately sleeps.

Okay.

Cue the voyage. He kept sitting there, napping, and refusing to do just about anything that involved actually doing something you'd do on a ship. He'd only stand up to fight if paid for it. One interaction I remember went like this, during a storm that could have caused the ship to keel and sink.

Captain, referring to Mercenary, somehow still sitting through all this: "We need you up, get moving! Secure the masts!"

Mercenary: "Not until I'm paid."

Captain: [Bewildered] "WE COULD LITERALLY DIE HERE!"

Mercenary, like the truly annoying item he was: *holds out hand* "50 gold."

Yeah, this guy was willing to let the entire ship die because he didn't feel his entire salary was enough to actually do something.

This continued until another player asked to do a personal mission which would bring in another, much less tolerant, captain that he used to serve under.

Mercenary was up to his old shit, as usual. The main captain had fallen ill, and so this new captain had taken the reins, since he had been more experienced than the first mate and so on so forth.

"Secure the net rigging, Mercenary!"

"Not until I'm paid."

"You'll get paid when you get your salary."

Mercenary holds out his hand with a smirk. "200 gold."

This ended up starting a fight, which Jim, since he wasn't power gaming as hard, lost very quickly. He was taken to the brig, then had his injuries addressed.

I was more than content to leave it at that, but Jim wasn't done. The main captain recovered, and knowing Mercenary's injuries, gave him a healing potion.

Jim: "Mercenary slaps her."

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…

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…

I look at him, bewildered, and at this point, finished with his shit. I ask the question.

"Are you sure?"

Jim: "Mercenary. Slaps. Her."

One Quick Draw later, and Mercenary is dead on the ground, having taken 5d6 sneak attack damage while his player glared at me, claiming he 'wasn't' (was) upset.

So Jim decided to ruin the campaign, because no amount of explanation that he could do personal missions or that his character was an idiot would penetrate his titanium skull. His idea was that since he wouldn't be able to power game, he'd simply hog the spotlight by repeatedly committing suicide.

He rolled up a new character, who didn't last 5 minutes before it got itself killed. Then another one. And another one. And another one. Jim's pettiness knew no bounds, so I did my best to ignore his antics.

Cue everyone back on the ship. Jim has rolled up his 4th or 5th character at this point. He sneaks aboard the ship, and with the biggest grin on his face, kills himself in a way that would end the campaign.

He blew up the ship.

He lit the gunpowder reserves.

And blew up.

The ship.

Jim sat there with the biggest grin on his face, happy that the campaign he hated for no other reason than 'pirates and railroading' was over, failing to register that a full minute of stunned silence was not a good thing.

I finally asked him why.

"I was trying to kill myself and this campaign went on too long!"

"... Because it was fucking fun?"

"How? We were railroaded aboard the ship all the time!" Jim says, conveniently forgetting that literally everyone was completing personal missions and developing their characters. All three of the other players had been loving the campaign up until this point.

I don't think I've ever cried in disgust more than at that moment. Jim had destroyed yet another campaign, and I had broken. I was shattered right there.

Why didn't I stop him? Because frankly, I didn't expect he would do what he did. And thus, Jim ended another campaign in a way that satisfied no one but himself.