FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Tong tottered on high heels, accompanied by peels, of laughter from his heartless boss. But under his frock, he furtively cocked, the trigger of his Colt 45 -
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Tired of endless people purposefully wiping smears of dirt and grime on him. Never moving, never seeing the world as his Uncle Stan, the flying carpet, always described it. The rug -
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" they moaned ironicly. "Good one." I repled unenthusiastically. "Rude!" said the Mrs, Zombie as they shuffled away. I loooked up and shouted at them, "Hey! Your STENCH is rude!" -
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Weewooweewoo... The paramedics shook their heads. "You're totally forked. There's nothing we can do for you. Call a cutler." [later] The cutler shook his head. "43 forks in the ass
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jarring at first but then it becomes oddly refreshing. What's more refreshing is that dead people don't feel the need to talk all the time. Not that I don't sometimes imagine them