FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Waynar. Our cover was that he choked on a grape, but Frank and I knew the gristly truth. Still, we were in a bit of a pickle since the Weinermobile was the only place that we could -
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/but heart beating drums drive us to profess/ the love I've come to confesss/ it is no illusion or figment of imagination/ it is just a script for humanity's perpetuation. -
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heavy with feeling. "Ummm... I walked here tbh," I replied. So we set off together to my remote cabin, a 7 mile hike over rough ground. He started wheezing as my grocery cart skitt -
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unconscious body. I pretended to look at my list ignoring the stares of the other shoppers. The PA crackled, "Attention customers: Clean up in aisle 11 due to doofus. Sorry for -
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A Poem About My Mother - Humble,sweet,but often dreary/My mother is a soulless fairy/Beneath her lips,color of cherry/Three blackened teeth,a tongue so hairy/