FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Then Hillary walks in with a whip wearing a leather cat suit & stiletto heals & she's dragging Donald by a dog collar. Then I wake up in a cold sweat. What could it mean, Doc? -
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pomegranate. When I opened the door there was what appeared to be a small ruby in the bottom of the immaculate self-cleaning oven. "Holy shnikies!" I exclaimed. My uncle was a jewe -
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looking at the ceiling. Are you rolling your eyes at us? Not much of a team player, are you." Any response I could think of would get me fired anyway, so I quit that damn job. -
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Daisy walked away and Donald caught up with her. He repeated his suggestion in sign language with the few signs he knew. Then she slapped him across the face. He was left wondering -
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meaning that any kind of pan really made me hot. Cast Iron Skillets really got me cooking. I left my girlfriend for a sauce pan once. Pots, no way. Any pot turns me off.