FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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He had successfully digested another clue! Det. Manatee now knew the identity of the killer. It was none other than Horace the Beaver, who -
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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/ -
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use he was so sick from the pills he had found in the dumpster the night before. "You're a party pooper, Rattus," the other two Rattuses sneered as they swilled the poisoned brew. -
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a warlock from the old country, possessed of the notion that, even if he answered incorrectly, his consolation prize would consist of preservation in amber for millions of years. -
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of the world covered. He looked as his competitors, smirked, and suddenly slammed a sack of potatoes onto the table, sending the pieces everywhere. "RISK is for bitches!" he said,