FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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if it's the last thing I do!" My wife was suddenly silent. Too silent. I looked up from my folding obsession. There she stood, nekkid & with a slingshot in one hand. "Dammit, woman -
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chest (which seemed suspiciously gooshy, but it turned out he had spilled some mustard on it at lunch). But neither Jimbeau or Flopp would admit to knowing what a Cleveland Steamer -
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to gently fondle her pair of expensive loafers right in front of her. It was more than the poor waif would handle and after two hours of nonstop shoe fondling, her heart gave out. -
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Santa Claus put down the list and sighed heavily. He sipped a little aged tequila. The fire crackled as an elf stoked it. Santa returned to the list and wrote, "Naughty" over it. -
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eluded her. She just didn't have an ear for rhyming words. Whaaat?! You say poetry doesn't have to rhyme? Yeah, well tell that to Dr. Suess, the greatest poet that ever lived.