Bullets, Bandannas, and Beautiful Nonsense: Playing 80’s Action Dudes

There are roleplaying games where you carefully track encumbrance, calculate modifiers, and debate the tactics of which spell to cast first. And then there are games where you kick down a door, fire an assault rifle one-handed, and shout something so gloriously ridiculous that reality slaps your back and gives you your hit points back.

80’s Action Dudes, created by my mate Marty, lives proudly in the second category.

Welcome to the Jungle (Bring a Soundtrack)

From the moment we sat down, the tone was locked in harder than a flexed bicep in a sleeveless vest. An 80s rock soundtrack blared in the background, all electric guitars and swagger, the kind of music that makes you feel like you could outrun an explosion purely out of principle. Marty had curated the perfect soundtrack with bands like Poison, Whitesnake and Boston, that had us all ready to play before we even created our characters.

It only took Marty 2 minutes to explain the system of 80’s Action Dudes, a clever hack of Cthulhu Dark by Graeme Walmsley. Different dice for different guns (D4, D6, D10) and the dice didn’t tell you if you hit. No way. They told you how many people you took out of action.

We came to kick ass and chew gum, and we were all out gum. Oh and we had three hit points.

Character Creation: Maximum Velocity, Zero Brakes

Character creation was also quick and easy. You needed:

  • A cool name
  • A main weapon
  • A one line description
  • Some special kit

That’s it. Vibes and testosterone.

Enter my character:

Rusty MacGregor
Ex–French Foreign Legionnaire. American as fuck.

Armed with his trusty assault rifle, razor sharp machete, and a tin of chewing tobacco, Rusty also sported a stars and stripes bandanna across his ruggedly handsome brow and was ready for action.

The Action Dude Team… you get the picture

The Crew: The Action Team

Our team was exactly what you’d hope for:

  • A Chinese ninja who moved like a shadow deadly throwing stars at the ready
  • A bare-knuckle fighter built like Van Damme with mad nunchuck skills
  • A mad radioman “Giggles”
  • Two M60 armed musclemen Rip and Butch.

Together, we were dropped into a jungle with one mission:

Take out a camp of commie insurgents. No diplomacy. Just kicking ass and shooting guns.

Mechanics That Punch You in the Face (In a Good Way)

The genius of the game wasn’t just in its theme, it was in how the mechanics fed that theme. Marty had got the balance just right.

Grenades? You didn’t roll for them. You physically threw balls into a bucket. Missed the bucket? Bad luck. That grenade is now someone else’s problem. Hit it? Boom. Cue cheering, high-fives, and a slow-motion dive.

We even had a proper mud map laid out in the garden adding to the immersion of our grand tactical planning.

Mud map ready for our Action Dudes to plan their assault

Now here’s where the game transcends even further. When you took wounds, you didn’t just sit there and sulk like an unpatriotic man baby. You earned them back the only way that matters:

One-liners.

Drop something suitably punchy, and you’d claw back your health.

Something in the spirit of Arnie and Stallone, like:

“I eat Green Berets for breakfast. And right now, I’m very hungry!”

Alternatively, you could clasp hands with a teammate, lock eyes like long-lost brothers, and bellow:

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Instant recovery to full hit points!

Action dude HP recovery

Scenes That Shouldn’t Work (But Absolutely Do)

What followed was a cascade of moments that felt ripped straight out of an Expendables fever dream:

  • Rusty leaping from a creek firing into enemy reinforcements
  • The ninja appearing and disappearing like a lethal magic trick
  • Grenades arcing through the air with varying degrees of success and panic
  • Entire squads of enemies being removed from existence in single, glorious dice rolls
  • The ammo dump exploding in a tongue of flame
  • Rusty dying in a blaze of glory at the helm of a Russian attack helicopter (dont ask)

It was loud, chaotic and deeply, deeply … fun!

Why It Works

At its core, 80’s Action Dudes is a masterclass in one simple idea:

Commit to the bit.

The rules are light, but laser-focused. Every mechanic pushes you to be louder, bigger, and more ridiculous. There’s no room for hesitation, only escalation. And because everyone understands the tone, the table becomes a kind of shared action movie, where each player tries to outdo the last in sheer action-hero bravado.

The result? Eight grown adults laughing like lunatics while throwing pretend grenades and inventing increasingly terrible one-liners.

What it’s all about

Final Thoughts: Explosions Optional (But Encouraged)

What this game proves, more than anything, is that you don’t need complexity to create something unforgettable.

  • Give players a strong theme.
  • Give them permission to go all in.
  • Add a few clever mechanics that reinforce the fantasy.

Then stand back and watch the magic happen. 80’s Action Dudes wasn’t just a game., it was a riot. And Marty was an absolute legend for pulling together such a memorable game.

Nine Player Chaos: Multiplayer Space Weirdos

MartyCon was just around the corner and I had promised to run a multiplayer Space Weirdos game. I wanted to double down on the 40K style Inquisitor games, where alliances were uncertain and every protagonist had their own agenda. I love the 40K universe and all the infighting portrayed in their fiction and I’ve played with this concept before. So I really went for it this time. Here is what I came up with.

The Premise: Everyone Has a Plan. None of Them Align.

The scenario uses the gloriously lean and kinetic ruleset of Space Weirdos. This meant that the game would be fast and brutal. Every player had their own secret primary and secondary objectives, all interlocking and clashing. I had planned for chaos.

The setting: The Virellion (Imperial Governors) estate

The cast: 9+ players.
Each player controls:

  • 1 Character
  • 1 Sidekick
  • 2 Secret Objectives

This means that everyone’s go will be quick, keeping downtime for non active players to a minimum.

Cult of the Star Filled Maw rams the gates

Some of the Factions & Objectives

  • The Governor
    Objective: Escape the palace alive with your priceless artefact.
  • Security Chief
    Objective: Keep the Governor and his daughter alive at all costs.
  • Cultist Leader
    Objective: Kill the Governor.
  • Governor’s Daughter
    Objective: Usurp (kill) the Governor.
  • Rogue Trader
    Objective: Steal the Necron artefact, protect the Governors daughter.
  • Rebel Lieutenant
    Objective: Free the imprisoned genestealer.
  • Inquisitor
    Objective: Defend the genestealer (for future experiments) and kill all cultists.
  • Mad Priest
    Objective: Kill the Inquisitor.

While there may be obvious teams to start with. These are just temporary and everyone know betrayal is just around the corner, only they don’t know which one.

The Mad Priest dashing from the cemetery. “Ill kill that Inquisitor if it’s the last thing I do”

Design for Collision, Not Balance

I’ve experienced multiplayer games where players spend too long maneuvering politely around each other. I wanted the action to begin right from the word go. So I needed to force proximity.

The objectives would create tension, but placing the teams fairly close would make sure that the action started quickly.

In hindsight this worked well, though the main road in the center of the board did create a bit of a firing lane. In addition I think removing 6″ from the width of the board would have help create even more carnage.

Virellion Estate: peaceful and quiet…. Not for long.

How Did it Play?

All in all we had a blast. I GM’d the game and kept everything moving. I introduced paper and pens so players could send each other secret notes. These added lots of fun for those players waiting for their turns, as well as adding another layer to the uncertainty and chaos.

Shots were fired and one Genestealer cultist got killed in turn one. The Genestealers took a beating and couldn’t get anywhere near their objectives. The Rogue Trader tried to defend the Governors only to get shot for his troubles. The Inquisitor and Mad Priest had a standoff while the Governor was assassinated by his own offspring. Joint winners were the Security Team and the Governors Daughter.

The game only ran for a couple of hours before the winners were declared and we moved on to the next game of the day.

Overall it did run well. However, I think I would tweak the objectives a little to make it a bit more of a maelstrom.

I’ve dropped my very unpolished notes here with the player handouts and a few notes on the board set up.

I’ll be running another multiplayer Space Weirdos in a few months, though next time it will be a more collaborative affair.

Bad Behaviour at the Table? Sort it out

Kobold flipping gaming table in a rage

At some point in every long running campaign, bad behaviour at the table happens. A player goes rogue. Not in the charming backstab-the-dragon way. But in the rules-lawyering, spotlight-hogging, eye-rolling, group-fracturing way. The table energy shifts. Shared fun begins to ebb.

If you run games long enough, you will face this moment. If you lead people long enough, you will too.

The parallels between managing bad behaviour at a roleplaying table and leading a team in the workplace are surprisingly tight. Both require the courage to act before the whole party wipes. Here are three stages to handle it, whether you are behind the DM screen or at the head of a meeting table.

Stage One: The Quiet Word by the Campfire

In the Dungeons & Dragons Player’s Handbook, there is an implicit social contract. The game assumes cooperation. It assumes you are not actively trying to ruin the experience for others. When a player starts derailing sessions, dominating decisions, or treating fellow players like NPCs, your first move cannot be a thunderbolt from the heavens.

It is a quiet conversation. Private. Calm. Specific.

  • “Hey, I’ve noticed you’re interrupting others a lot during planning scenes.” This is preventing them from getting involved.
  • “I’ve seen some frustration when rulings don’t go your way.” This slows down play and creates a bit of a weird atmosphere with myself and the other players.

This is not an accusation. It is feedback. You are describing behaviour and explaining impact.

At the gaming table, most problems live in the land of misunderstanding. Someone may not realise they are hogging spotlight. Someone may think the aggressive banter is funny when others find it draining.

The same is true in the workplace. As a leader, stage one is informal and early. You do not wait for the team to fracture. You address behaviour before it calcifies into culture. Make your expectations clear. The impact must be understood and the request for change cannot be ambiguous.

Most people, when treated like adults, respond like adults.

Stage Two: The Formal Warning Scroll

If behaviour continues after the informal chat , you have to escalate. At the table, this might mean a more direct conversation.

  • “We spoke about this last month. It’s still happening. If it continues, you may not be able to stay in this campaign.”

Now the stakes are visible.

In a group where you are all friends this can be a difficult conversation to navigate. But it doesn’t have to be confrontational. Reiterate the way the group likes to play and that the problem players style is different and not gelling.

In leadership, this is where structure matters. Documentation. Formal performance conversations. Clear consequences. Alignment with policy. Compliance with employment law. You are no longer just nudging behaviour. You are protecting the team.

In both spaces, the key elements are:

  • Clear examples of behaviour
  • Clear expectations going forward
  • Clear consequences if change does not occur
  • A genuine opportunity to improve

You cant escape the fact that this stage is uncomfortable. It requires backbone. Leaders often avoid it because they fear conflict. But avoidance is not kindness. It is deferred damage. Every time you fail to address ongoing bad behaviour, you send a signal to the rest of the group that this behaviour is is acceptable.

And that signal causes more damage than you would imagine.

Stage Three: Removing the Player from the Table

Sometimes, despite every effort, the behaviour does not change. At a gaming table, the final step is simple in principle, but very difficult in practice:

You ask them to leave the campaign. You do not do it lightly. Keep emotion out of it. Do it because the health of the group matters more than the comfort of one individual. Ultimately, it is a leadership decision.

In the workplace, this stage becomes formal performance management that may result in termination. This must comply with employment law, company policy, and procedural fairness. There must be evidence, the employee must have an opportunity to respond. There must be consistency.

But the principle remains the same. A team cannot thrive if one person consistently erodes trust, morale, or performance.

Letting someone go is not failure if you have:

  • Communicated clearly
  • Provided support
  • Given reasonable opportunity to change
  • Acted fairly and consistently

Sometimes the most responsible act of leadership is protecting the many.

The Deeper Lesson

Whether you are running a dungeon or running a department, leadership is not about avoiding conflict. It is about stewarding the experience. In a roleplaying game, you are safeguarding fun, safety, and shared storytelling. While in the workplace, you are safeguarding culture, productivity, and psychological safety.

Both require:

  • Early intervention
  • Honest conversations
  • Escalation when necessary
  • Courage to act

Ignore bad behaviour at the table long enough and it becomes the campaign setting. Unchecked and your game will stop being fun, players will leave and it will eventually implode. Ultimately, following the adage that no D&D is better than bad D&D.

Address the behaviour with clarity and fairness, and you show your players that they are important and that the game matters.

Quick Note: checking bad behaviour at the table doesn’t have to rest on the shoulders of the DM. Rather it can be dealt with by any player. Remember, having fun is a shared responsibility.