FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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She jabbed at the tripe and scoured at it. He merely sighed in ecstasy. She stared at the pig knuckles in paralyzed terror. He merely gazed at her perfect face. -
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his face as he mournfully threw their tiny fishy bodies into the paddle pool. One of them attempted to say "Not dead yet!", but sadly, fish cannot talk. Elliot fell to his knees -
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nished with a fleeting modicum of enjoyment before my tentacular acquaintance squeaked the final invocation that would collapse all existence. I mustered my sympathy and said, -
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he randomly lit on fire and died. We all mourned him at his funeral, he was a man of many -
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differently talented fruits of the forest. The fruits gathered for the recording of 'Sweep Dreams'. The effing and blinding, the consumption of strong lager, the pungency alone