Video game characters we'd hate to befriend in real life

Chances are, your favorite game characters would be pretty cool cats in the real world. It'd probably be fun to hang out with Dante, because he's edgy and eats a lot of pizza, or Baird because he's charismatic, or Garrus because he definitely likes to watch TV and drink beer. But think really hard about the habits of those characters for a minute or two, and you might just realize that some of their quirks would actually be incredibly annoying (or just plain sad).

Go out to eat with Dante, for instance, and he'll probably smartmouth the waiter, hit on all the waitresses, and refuse to wear a damn shirt. Baird would never quit rubbing in your face the fact that he's smarter than you. And Garrus? Actually, he's just plain awesome--but you get the point. Consider the following what-if stories to be cautionary tales about what might've been, had you become besties with any of the following characters in real life.

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Make splitting dinner bills a chore

It's exactly 7:13 p.m. on a Tuesday night, and you're enjoying a fine plate of spotted dick with Professor Layton. Following a deep conversation about Layton's love for mathematical matrices (Sudoku is his favorite game), the waiter brings the check. The total: $51.03. How do you split the bill? Do you cut it down the middle? If so, who pays the extra cent? Such a critical question must be handled delicately, as one wrong move here can destroy a relationship. At this point, you realize the gravity of your situation. Layton's going to make a f***ing puzzle out of this.

"It's cool, prof," you say, nervously. "How about I pay $26.03 of the bill, you get the remainder?" To which Layton replies: "Now, now--a gentleman always pays his fair share!" He excitedly reaches for a napkin and a pen. "A squared plus B squared equals C squared..." he mutters, mapping out complicated equations. Why does he need the Pythagorean theorem to break a dinner bill? OH GOD, HE'S DIPPING INTO ALGEBRAIC PROOFS. Might as well order some wine--you're gonna be here a while.

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Have long-winded conversations on the phone while hanging out

"Life. Life has changed. It's no longer about booze, ladies, or rock 'n roll. It's an endless series of generic routines, performed by puppets and automatons. Life--and its consumption of happiness--has become an unbreakable treadmill. Life has changed. Joyless people carry joyless burdens, use joyless relationships. Drugs inside their bodies enhance and regulate their abilities. Pharmaceutical control. Information control. Emotion control. Life control. Everything is monitored and kept under control. Life has changed."

JESUS Snake, will you get off the damn phone already? We've been hanging out for an hour, 50 minutes of which you've spent waxing philosophical on the purpose of your existence to whoever is on the other end of that gaudy Bluetooth headset. Christ.

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Always invite his annoying posse to tag along

"What am I doing?" The thought consumes you during the drive to a local chili dog stand. That's where you agreed to meet up with Him. The Blue Blur--that's what they're calling him these days, ever since he fell into a bad crowd and began a highly illegal underground ring of animal fashion shows. But Sonic was a great friend to you once; he always stood up for you back then, and damn it, he needed you now. Who else would drag his sorry ass out of a life of crime?

But when you arrive at the stand, you find that he's not alone. He nervously approaches, his eyes darting back and forth as though he's expecting an ambush. Behind him is an Echidna sporting dreads and spiked knuckles; an ebony hedgehog carrying a .45; some kind of bat(?) lady wearing stylish spandex and a skimpy shirt; and a weird bee that won't shut the hell up. "Hey man, long time no see," he says. "I invited a few buddies, hope that's cool." You eye up the tattoo on his arm--R.I.P. written under a picture of a two-tailed fox. "Yeah," you respond. "Real cool."

She'd be the kind of friend who would: Refuse to go anywhere without her boyfriend

Juliet used to be the life of the party. All the women loved her because she was the star cheerleader, and all the guys loved her because she had a strange obsession with chainsaws (and also she was the star cheerleader). Nick Carlyle was popular, too. He used to be a cool, independent jock, and had a ton of friends. But the two became entirely different people once they started dating.

Their desire to spend every waking moment together was forgivable at first--that's just how young love works. Then things started to change. Juliet suddenly lost interest in hanging out with her old friends, and Nick, well, he traded his independence for lapdog status. Juliet would make a demand; Nick would comply. The most annoying thing of all? Juliet would not go anywhere without Nick tagging along. Even when it was time for a girls' night out (which only occurred like once every three months because Nick had developed a crazy jealousy complex), he'd be there hovering like a weirdo, mostly out of sight but always watching. Gross. Wonder what they're up to these days?

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Mooch every chance he gets

At first, it wasn't so bad. Booker just wanted to borrow a quarter or two to buy a soda out of the vending machine (that's probably how much sodas cost back in the early 1900s). Then he asked for a tissue when he got a nosebleed. For a while, he even paid you back. Eventually, though, he was asking for favors left and right.

"You gonna eat that pineapple?" he'd asked, pointing to a nearby trashcan. "Got any extra salt?" he'd request upon gulping down some purple drink. "Hey, toss me a Silver Eagle right quick, I gotta do something really important." One request followed another, and his desire to mooch became overwhelming. You stopped hanging out with the guy once his borrowing got out of hand, and good thing, too. Last you heard, he had accumulated a staggering amount of debt.

He'd be the kind of friend who: Tragically never bettered himself

It used to be fun to hang with Mario, y'know? He'd always been such a happy guy, and the two of you made a ton of wonderful memories together over the years. But you moved on, while he stayed behind. You traveled the world a bit. You lived. Then, when you went back to visit your old pal, you were sad to discover that he hadn't pursued any sort of self-betterment. For him, that place was all he'd ever known. He couldn't leave.

Mario wore the same familiar clothes, smelling of that same familiar sewage stink, telling the same stories he'd always told. He was starved for conversation but had nothing new to say. "Did I ever tell you about the time I saved Princess Peach from Bowser?" he asked (for what, the hundredth time?). "Yeah, man..." The two of you took a drink in awkward silence; you, a seeker of worldly knowledge, and he, a simple man stuck in a place he could never escape. You left after a few drinks, but looking back through the yellowed glass of that dingy old bar, you saw him order another round by himself.

He'd be the kind of friend who: Is just too damn good-looking to hang out with

Never in a thousand years did you think you'd listen to Simple Plan on purpose. You hated that band back in high school. But now their melancholy tunes seemed so... appropriate. How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes. Got nowhere to run. Life goes on as I'm fading away... The lyrics were a painful reminder of the fateful night you invited your boy ND to your house party. That's when the flashbacks kicked in.

"Hey Nate, I'd like you to meet my wife (or husband), Sally (or Sam)." Nathan flashed a gorgeous smile, the way you'd think of God's as beautiful. But when you looked over at your beloved, your heart sank. Her (or his) eyes were locked in an eternal struggle with Drake's, clearly wanting to fight off an intense, magnetic attraction, but so obviously losing. The next morning you found divorce papers splayed across your bed. Beside them, Nate and your soon-to-be ex were entangled in a lover's embrace.I'm sick of this life, I just wanna scream. How could this happen to me?

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Never return your phone calls

Wub wub wub Wub WUB WUB BU WBUWUBWUUWU DROP. "Groose! Hey Groose! What a great party, eh?" you shouted loudly to your long-time friend. "Yeah, dude," he responded, "but where the hell is Link?" Good question, you think to yourself. You'd called him a dozen times over the past three days to remind him about the party, but he never once returned your call. This wasn't the first time he'd refused to talk, either. One more try couldn't hurt, though, right?

The phone rings a few times, and--gasp!--he finally answers: "Hiiaaaaaa!"; "Hey man!" you yell ecstatically. "Where the hell are yo--" Please leave a message after the beep. Wow. That little punk set up one of those dumb voice mails that trick you into thinking he answered. Man, screw this, you think to yourself. If he's not willing to pick up his stupid phone and talk to his friends, then maybe he's not worth the effort.

He'd be the kind of friend who would: Always cancel on you last minute; if he doesn't, he's always late (and isn't even all that fun to hang out with anyway)

Hrm, yep. That about says it all.

There are plenty of characters that might seem awesome to hang out with at first (but in reality wouldn't be). Who do you think you'd hate spending time with? Let us know in the comments below.

And if you're looking for more, check out 12 types of gamers we hate playing with and 25 things we hate about our favorite games.