Thumping each other was fun, but every Battletoad was equipped with the grappling equivalent of the double Vulcan Nerve Pinch: holding a friend or enemy above your head paralyzed them, while you could walk around the level, loudly wondering which instant death pit you'd cast them into. There was no way to break out. Wiggling your joystick might as well have been a euphemism for all the good it would do, and at least then you'd be showing them who could be the dickiest while playing together.
Flaming Snipers -- Team Fortress 2
Video game snipers are assholes -- you need one to get rid of some annoying s**t, but if you're saddled with three, you'll find it very difficult to go anywhere, because the plural of "sniper" is "too many." A good sniper surgically removes enemy medics, but bad snipers are a row of parasitic ticks wedged into the map's most inaccessible crevices. Snipers treat their own team as background animation in a single player game. They reverse the polarity of having teammates: The more snipers you have, the more outnumbered you are, because in every firefight half your team is two miles away clicking on random objects. It's like getting fire support from an outsourced data entry firm.
"See, what you do is miss 20 times, then scream about lag."