FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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GOL-DEN SHOWERS!!!, four calling cards, three freedom fries, two English muffins, and a broken down VW microbus in my parking lot. The carolers all looked expectantly at the closed -
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not allowed to hang out with you anymore. "So?" I asked angrily, forcing all 9 of them to look me in the eye. "So" Lola snapped, "we're not going to either!" "What?" I was hurt and -
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to deal with the constant rashes. I can tell that I'm doing the right thing because the crystal that my soul doctor has me rub is staying the right shade of pink. Of course I don't
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Rupert played on, his instrument feebly gasping out each note in the endless stream. The crowd had thinned somewhat, perhaps due to the fact that nobody likes accordion music, but -
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went off with out a hitch until his neck bolts started poking out of his turtle neck sweater. He tried to hide by the punchbowl but Beth spotted him. "Hey Frank! Long time!" "Urgh"