Out of the blue, I ended up running a session of the Imp Game for a few pals I haven't gamed with in YEARS- last time we gamed was a D&D group in High School (which has been a few years).

There were three to the group:
Myself,
Josh, who had heard about the system and was at the time of suggestion thumbing through my print proof chuckling, and
Phil, my new partner's younger brother.
Dj, the new partner, was going to join in, but crashed for the night instead- had just got done playing with his band down at the local smoothie bar. Metal music and smoothies, go fish.

Dj DID help out in picking the scenario for the evening, and we explained the system and were ready to go in about ten minutes. Cooked up:
(Phil)Grog, a Devious Imp who Hated Wizards, Liked Ballarinas, and was facinated by shiny objects. He feared flying objects and the color pink, and could hypnotize others.
(Josh)Stats, a Crazy Imp, who liked Weed, was a pacifist, and don't recall his last trait or fear. He was afraid of water, and could turn invisable.
(Me)Bob, a Big Dumb Imp, who was reletively incoherant, Easily Distracted, and obsessed with insects. He feared fruit and shiny objects and could Fly.

Our mission: It was All Hallows Eve and the Master was performing a ritual to summon a demon lord to our world to dominate it for him (not the best thing, but the Master isn't always bright either). Our job was to go out into the world and stir up as much terror as we could to feed this demon.
We're poofed right on the edge of town, and as players we agree that Phil is in the best position of any of us to direct the mischief as a "Lead Imp". So, in character, Grog lays out this plan for Stats to sneak into the town invisible, appear and scare everyone, then disappear, while I would fly overhead making scary noises.
Over excited, I (Bob) charged into town and try to fly, and fail miserably. Grog and Stats walk up the trail to see whats going on and run across several kids in costume, who think *we're* kids in costume. Grog hypnotizes them into being afraid for no reason, succeeds, but draws attention to us: the adults of the town realize we're actually imps!
Out comes the sharp instraments of pain and torment and the villagers swoop down on us. Josh/Stats manages a roll to go invisable and I get myself into the air by some miracle while Grog is mesmerised by the sharp, pointy objects. In a desperate attempt, Phil tries twice to hypnotize the oncoming villagers but fails and ends up surrounded. Airborne, I charge in, and by another miracle, swoop in, grab Grog, and take back to the skies and start booking for the woods, villagers in tow.
Stats, meanwhile, is hanging out on the outskirts of the throng. He calmly gets himself a joint out of his backpack, mutters something about why couldn't we all just get along, and decides to make a challenge roll to light his joint on a villager's torch: and succeeds! He calmly climbs the villager, lights the joint, and walks off without issue.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to make a landing and fail a roll to land safely, crashing through the woods, terrifying Grog in the process, and crash into the dark heart of the woods, right in a pack of werewolves. I'm tackled almost instantly by one of the large ones, and the others encircle us, but for a big, stupid one: the werewolf equivilent of me, the big dumb imp. He pounces on Grog and for the hell of it, we make a roll to see if the wolf likes him, which he does! Responds to his commands and everything. With his help, we manage to hypnotize the others into aiding us and coordnating an attack on the oncoming villagers.
Stats, keeping pace with the villagers, reaches one grove of trees and takes a seat, just puffing away. We're scurrying through the brush with the werewolves when both Grog and I catch sight of the glowing embers of Stat's joint. All excited, I try to tackle Stats for joy and miss, catching my horns in the dead tree behind him.
The next few rolls revolve around the other two trying to help me out of the tree, Stats grabbing my boots and pulling them off, the joint flying out of his mouth and starting a small fire among the brush. The next roll fails as well, and I beat my little wings so hard, I generate enough force to uproot the dead tree, plant it on the ground, and send Stats and whole mess of the burning brush sailing through the air. Stats landed safely in a bale of hay, but the burning brush landed in the middle of a Pot plantation.
The melee finally started between the villagers and werewolves, and its pretty ferocious. Meanwhile, I'm botching every roll possible to save myself and end up with part of the log above me, wedged into a pit. The fire rages on, spreading from the field and the forest, and out into the clearing where the villagers were fending off the wolves. Grog is trying to lead the wolves to no avail, even going so far as to mount one and ride it, which fails miserably and lands him in fire, setting his cloak alight.
Grog finally convinces Stats to come out of the now burning pot field, where he's getting a really good buzz, to try and save me from the tree again, but all rolls fail again. I'm down to one chip, get tired of it, and just let my imp die on the next failure: the tree fell all the way down and squashed me. Somehow, Stats ended up falling into the pit and his pack got caught on the roots above, dropping him into the pit without his bag of weed. In here, we ended up with a suitably high roll that I decided I'd try to see if my imp haunts Grog, blaming him for his death and POW! Rolled an 8, a perfect roll.
So, I'm haunting Grog, Stat's stuck in a whole, and the melee is subsiding: the fumes from the burning pot fields are getting the werewolves and villagers all high. With the villagers and wolves high, its easy for Grog to convince them to help him get stats out of the hole, but he blows it the first time, gets out the second time but without his pack, so ge jumps back in to get the pack. Using the justification that since I'm dead, I can do all sorts of neat ghostly/polterguist like stuff, I get Stats out of the hole, along with his pack of weed, and Grog's cloak, which had fallen in as well.
Survaying the scene, we didn't really think anymore was possible. The forest, the field, and a whole farm of pot was burning, the werewolves and villagers were arm in arm singing Coom-bye-ah (sp?) and...yeah.
Getting back to the Master, he was pretty pissed. The spell almost worked, with all of the chaos we were creating but something stopped the spell...all the warm fuzzyness. My ghost was all excited about being dead ("I'm dead! I'm dead!") and Stats offered up some of his stash, but to no avail.
Didn't do any kind of epilouge, but someone else asked "So what happened when the werewolves got the munchies?" I can only wonder.

This feels a little redundant, but by the end we were laughing pretty heartily and they were asking when we could play again, which is cool. Phil took took to the freedom of the system like a duck to water, making as much use of his character as he could. Josh, he shyed away from actually playing in the opening, but came out of the shell as the insanity unfurled. Both loved it, both were wanting to play again, and both were talking about it all day today I guess, which is cool. Considering both were D&D weaned, as are most Imp players I snag actually, and considering Josh had a nasty tendency to play a sorcerer or wizard named Raistlan in all of his D&D games, I think both getting into the system and the game is a testiment to it~