FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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The discipline of the high has always escaped me. How can one truly enjoy working while blasted out of his mind, or truly enjoy his high while numbing his mind with work? Luckily -
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Turgo Blipsis, the MP's assistant, watched his boss being carried out in restraints. Ever-cautious, Turgo had never mentioned the ghost cats that jumped on his bed or the mist that -
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a taker, not a giver. You NEVER vote for my folds, you slacker!" The voice from his computer screen pouted. "Let's make a deal, shall we? Write one decent fold, just ONE, & I'll -
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make a decision. "Carl, America, we believe in individual freedoms . So a toe has a right to leave the foot and persue happiness. On the other hand, different fingers." The judge -
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matriculating up the aevinista. Fagan was genuinely beangrafting now, his eyes winkly with fear. The mob shouted "Woolreacher! The cherlust must be brought to chustice!" Fagan spun