FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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I made my way to the crypt and found the corpses of all my guards, each sitting side-by-side. I made my way deeper into the crypt and found a decapitated head on a pike. I quickly -
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He rubbed his goatee peering at her black leotard over his espresso. She grabbed his beret and flung it. "You just hate me because I want to dig the world always!" Beatniks were -
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hot and heavy. The smoke pour out of that oven made the who room smell like heaven. It was so good that Mrs. Butterworth died of Turkey scent overload. -
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But then, what was the purpose of my life? If I was simply a machine, controlled by someone with the remote, whence came my sense of autonomy? I puzzled over this question while -
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a dead host only until equilibrium was reached. It was important to keep the site alive with many entertaining stories even as the tape worms minced grammar & the intestinal folds