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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the concrete under my prison slippers, snuggling under the thin cotton blanket on my lumpy mattress, and hearing my number at roll call. I would be home again. -
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g...Warning...Warning' If that thing shut up maybe I could think back to my Fleet Training course. Hmmm. Plasma's gone. No source of backup power on the class A model. Looks like
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unknown at first, but soon we saw they carried sabres and red flags emblazoned with a skull surrounded by green concentric circles. Whoever they were, they weren't pseudofishermen. -
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from the discarded balance sheets of the failed banks. The dawn gongs of the financial apocalypse rang without remorse, like sonic battering rams, and the Emanator chortled as