FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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evil sorcerers. Me and my buddy Jimbo was gonna teach 'em, but one of the kids escaped, we got busted and then sent to prison where I now write you this letter. Mr. President, -
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"Tell me," one cried, "can you play the old dusty accordion?" No Rupert said, as he always said. "No, it's not mine. I carry it for old times. And still I must speak in rhymes." A -
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I believed her. It didn't calm my qualms. Although not related to me, I called Regina & Delores Mudd. They were the bass player for the periwinkle ramona. "I'm a Mudd. What does it -
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Natch, teach saw the note in Emily's hand, & plucked it from her prostrate form. "Passing notes in class?" he chided us over the inert girl. "Hmm, 'Good Job'? What sort of job?" We -
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eluded her. She just didn't have an ear for rhyming words. Whaaat?! You say poetry doesn't have to rhyme? Yeah, well tell that to Dr. Suess, the greatest poet that ever lived.