FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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my internet usage. I wear sensors for respiration, heart beat, skin conductance and EEG. The surveillance cam isn't aimed at my monitor. I will risk the job and log onto folding -
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"That I'm rich! Uh, I mean... nothing." Doc recorded me repeating all my dreams, and excused himself. I overheard him call a smut publishing firm. Big sums were bandied about. Hey! -
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Clinton "painted" dress fetched a pretty penny. This money was used to outsource my fold writing to Sri Lanka. I had an entire village writing folds under my name. -
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Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the castle not a creature was stirring, not even the shackled; the skeletons wre hung, by the chimney with care, in the hopes that -
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"I'll take the Whiskey battered bourbon bangers and a side of Soho Chips, and for dessert I'll take the deep fried giant Snickers bars, oh, and