FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Well. . .not miserable enough to make Trump stop communicating to the world via Twitter. He probably sits on the John all night long, passing horrid gas, and twittering about his -
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that glare of despondency. "You know I karaoke when I'm brushing." Bitter, he kicked over the tree, left his missus and walked into the frigid air. Santa knew... he always knew. -
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talents but the most amazing one was his phoenix impression. He rose from his own ashes, a smoldering spire of cinders erupted from his urn as the priest read the last rites -
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but all those stories covered up the dark secret of Humpty's mafia, a hard-boiled gang of bad eggs that terrorized the denizens of Mother Goose. Noone lost a tear when he shattered
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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