There are two types of tabletop gamers: players and game masters (GMs). Those players that enjoy control, that want to tell a story, that want to decide the fate of the player characters and non-player characters alike, these players are natural GMs; occasionally they will play in other’s games, but mostly they will run their own. Everyone else is a player. And just like most GMs will occasionally play, most players will occasionally run – especially if they’ve got a favorite game. One of our frequent gaming partners is mostly a player, but will run a fabulous Deadlands campaign; another has a penchant for Shadowrun; I think that someday I will default to Traveller.

I chose PDQ (“Prose Descriptive Qualities”); it is very unlike Dungeons and Dragons – and, truthfully, unlike most other games – because it is a very loose, player-driven game. This makes it ideal for a first-time GM, and also a nightmare, if things don’t go quite according to your story arc.

A responsible GM in any game creates a story, and NPCs to go along with it. She should create an environment that’s interesting and rich, a blueprint for any bad guys her PCs have to fight, and a satisfying conclusion to the story. This is especially true in a one-shot game – in a campaign, she can touch on all of her PCs wants, needs, concerns, motivations – in a one-shot, she’s got to do your best with what she’s got, and hope and curse and pray that her players are going to go along with what she’s got in mind. PDQ is, in many senses, ideal for this situation.

Blur, my constant gaming partner and boyfriend, has been urging me toward this inevitable end for months. I toyed with it for a long time before I gathered my guts and my dice and did it. In the midst of cooking chili, Blur and our house-guests Matt and Amber decided on their setting preference: the Golden Age of Piracy (early 18th century). Character generation in PDQ is, without a doubt, the most important aspect of the game, because it decides what the players are going to face in the next 2-5 hours. I took their motivations into account, spent 15 minutes crafting a vague story arc, statted up some villains, and began.

PDQ is fabulous because it is player-driven. If you are heavily into strategy-based tabletops, like AD&D or Earthdawn, it can be a little hairy getting used to the system. Players don’t need to worry about where they are in relation to their target, which direction they’re facing, whether or not there are other PCs in the way of their bullet/arrow/magic missile’s trajectory. The catch is that whether a player makes or botches a roll, she gets to describe the outcome. This is the hard part. For experienced players, who have heard a thousand explanations for a thousand different actions and fumbles and dice explosions, it becomes a place for flowery descriptions, fiery explosions, and fearsome executions. The GM has the unique opportunity to sit back and watch. I had a very fortunate first experience.

Sometimes GMing is more like herding cats than it is telling a story. Blur ran a PDQ session, a gritty gaslight Edwardian horror game, in which we had three old hands and two virgins. First, that is a large table, especially for a one-shot, especially in a game that without the characters, you literally have no story. Second, informing people that they can do whatever they want, within reasonable, GM-set limits, allows them to do fantastic feats of acrobatics, allows them to change the setting – but most importantly, allows them to fundamentally change the plot of the story. For instance, in Blur’s game, one of the characters, Swivel, literally punched through the spine and sinew of an undead Set vampire, but then decided that when her head disconnected from her torso, she would bite him on the ear.

If that had happened in my game, I would have panicked.

Blur was not satisfied with his last PDQ game, and we talked it out – we still are. I contend that it is a great system for a new GM, and a terrible system for a new player, for all the aforementioned reasons. But then, I also think that Twitter’s 140-character limit and composing piles of Italian sonnets are great ways to hone your writing skills. I suspect the biggest pitfalls of his session were time constraints and that big bottle of Wild Turkey getting passed around – gritty we were not.

Consider that your caveat: while any game, in any system, with any players, can get real silly real quick, PDQ carries the highest risk. Players can literally do whatever they want. As long as they are willing to give up dice, they can change the story, change the setting – and you can see where that can end up.

Atomic Sock Monkey is the publication company for all the PDQ games. Their website is www.atomicsockmonkey.com.