FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Istanbul Night 2: A wicked flea infestation exploded in my beard. Still no luck unloading the rest of these discount electric blankets. I think I'm cursed. Will Night 3 be better? -
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That was because underneath her wimple, Sister Ornelia was actually a homicidal kangaroo who had been scheduled to be "put down" at the circus, but had escaped and gone on a -
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!Put some clothes on! I can't concentrate with you standing there like that." A red hot steel ball imbedded right over my left eye. Blood was everywhere! Staggering, I folded anoth -
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the game was over, we put our balls away and exchanged false phone numbers. That was the last I saw of my hermaphrodite lover, until seven years later, in Paris. S/he was at a cafe
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who raised his black-gloved hand. The waiter came. "Dessert?" Lord Sandwich replied, "Only just desserts. Take Adm Panini to have his suit pressed. I'd like to raise a toast."