When I lived in Jamaica, some guys were following me making rude comments and I picked up a large toad and faced them with it. They ran away. Grown men are terrified of toads there. From then on, people in the neighbourhood called me “Obeah Toad Witch.” But they left me alone after that.
A trebuchet,
I think that counts.
I own a switchblade. Iused to carry it every day, mostly opened mail with it. Now it’s hidden away somewhere.
The Deathstar.
I found my cast iron skillet to have considerable versatility as a weapon and damned useful. It has close work capacity yet shows some real strengths as a throwing weapon, travels without drawing much comment, and it can go through customs with ease. Depending on ammo it can be subtle or not as you choose. All and all a fine weapon, quite affordable and it disguises well.
Yeah, BMalion it was ala’ Steven Segal, except I was desperate enough to do it several years before seeing it in the movies.
Faced with three large, angry and armed (2 bottles, one 5" knife) drunks. Strikes to the arms and legs, didn’t wan’t anyone to wind up dead, especially me!
My bare hands.
I cut open a man’s hand with a piece of crap Katana.
Numerous Medieval weapons (another SCA heavy) and a raft of Martial Arts weapons.
My favorite one of which was a piece of nice soft rope about 2.5 feet long.
A handkerchief with a quarter tied into one of the corners and a large knot on the other corner, it’s a Filipino thang. Flicked at the eyes and used to wrap up hands and throats…My instructer was AWESOME at it, I doubt that I would ever be able to use it effectively.
I once shot a shotgun that a retired Marine had that scared the daylights out of me. Pistol grip but with a stock that folded out and cupped/wrapped around your forearm. That allowed you to hold it one armed easily (it provided counter balance or something- I felt like a robot with it). It had a switch that allowed you to shoot 1 shell at a time, or do a 3-burst shot. He got it for when he went to…to…to Grenada? Beirut? I forget. I shot it once with the 3-burst. The first shot was level, the second was up about 30 degrees, the third was almost straight up. I couldn’t move my arm for a few minutes afterward.
-Tcat
I’ve pulled the fire switch on a submarine launched Harpoon anti-ship missile (like the Exocet), and on a Mk. 48 torpedo (the former live and the latter a test torpedo). And lit the fuse for burning 1000 pounds of 155mm howitzer propellant. Trey cool…
in addition to many of the previously mentioned items: skorpion, jati, G33, G3, MP5KS, M60E2, Barrett M82A1, Ruger MKIS, S&W 39S, BAR-E2, SPAS 12 (“hook” model), MicroUZI, AR-10, Stoner 63, MAC11S, Beretta M93, Benelli Entry Weapon, Ruger AC556, American Arms 180, USAS 12, S&W M76, “shark stick”…
Oh, and SenorBeef? Perhaps you have forgotten about the M1 Garand? It is a rifle that uses an eight-round en bloc clip.
The Gluon gun in “Half-Life”, and the flame thrower in “Return to Castle Wofenstein”.
The only weapon I’ve fired well is ----and this is rather embarrassing---- a .22 bolt-action single-shot rifle. I hit pop cans with it.
One that I’ve seen, but never actually used, was an extraordinarily dangerous air-compressed **spudgun!**Never play with those! I know some very interesting stories about that gun, let me tell you.
A gun that I fired once, and completely missed the target, was a Smith and Wesson 9 mm. I instantly gave it back to the guy who owned it, my hand was all shaky, and I missed so bad!
I also fashioned a cardboard, plywood and tinfoil broadsword with ‘J’eanne D’Arc’ written on it with green marker. It was for my English project. That thing was heavy, with the wood and everything. Smacked my best friend around the legs with it, and he swore. I had a blast, 'til the tip broke off.
I’ve never had to use it against anyone before, but I can pull off a few flashy moves with a knife very similar to the one pictured here
http://www.onestopknifeshop.com/images/benchmade/bm-42-1.jpg. Hopefully, if I ever actually need to use it, the other person will be intimidated enough not to want to fight.
Hmm… it seems I was dumb enough to screw up the link coding. Either copy and paste the one in my message above or use this.
Which is more exotic, a 20 mm Gatling Gun on an F-4 Phantom or a 50 cal. black powder pistol? I’ve done both.
I felt a lot safer with the Gatling Gun.
I can’t believe no one has picked up on the fact that Inky bit Scylla’s butt! (Or, that Inky fell for such an old joke.)
Not exactly what the OP had in mind, I suppose, but the most exotic weapon I’ve used was a sling. No, not a slingshot; a sling. Like what David supposedly used to slay Goliath. And, assuming they ever actually lived, I can understand how. A sling in my hands is a truly deadly weapon. Not accurate, mind you. But, extremely deadly, nonetheless. To birds, people standing behind me, innocent bystanders half a mile away from the target…you name it. Practically a weapon of mass destruction.
OK, I’ll admit I need to make an appointment with the ophthalmologist, but did anybody else read this as ‘Most EROTIC weapon you’ve ever used’?
In THAT case, I could’ve contributed to this thread. 
I can’t say that I’ve ever used a weapon, exotic or otherwise, on anyone. thinking…thinking…Nope. Although…during a fight with my soon to be ex-husband, I did heave the “Parade of Values” at him. (Ya know…that irritating circular full of silly coupons and lawncare offers that appears in your mailbox every week or so?) It just happened to be lying on the counter and I picked it up and whipped it at him. It flew about 2 feet and fluttered harmlessly to the ground. Not exatly lethal. Or satisfying…compared to all the other weaponry on this board. AK-47’s, chains… No, I haven’t used an exotic weapon, but I’ve had one used on me. My heart skipped a beat as I was skimming through the board and saw the potato gun post. Nevermind the Parade of Values!! During a particularly nasty argument with the same ex mentioned above, he grabbed a potato & heaved it at me. I can’t even remember what the argument was about, but I do remember the feeling of that potato whizzing past my head. (My old man was a softball pitcher, and he put one hell of a spin on that spud.) It was a big, fat baking potato. It had sprouted sharp little root protrusions from its myriad eyes. It looked like a fucking mace!!! I could swear I felt one of those little roots graze my cheek as it flew past. It bounced off the cat before it hit the floor. Years later, after I brought this little incident up to him as one of the many reasons (an assortment of objects flying towards me at top speed) why I wanted to escape the bonds of marriage…he replied: “Jeez! It was just a potato!! A fucking vegetable. I didn’t HIT you with it. If I’d wanted to hit you with it, I would have! I’m a pitcher, remember?” Oh, boy…funny how when I relate this little episode to someone…the first question they ask me (after the giggling subsides) is: Was it baked or raw? Raw. And pointy. Just ask the cat.
A Thompson sub-machine gun on auto. When I was 12. Sumbitch just about killed me. Couldn’t keep the sucker down. Fired at the old FBI building in DC. My schoolmate’s dad was an agent. We got to do neat stuff.