FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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"Yukon gold! Nuggets as big as your fists! Yeehaw!" he said. We immediately took a hard right and canoed to Nova Scotia. Cold as a witches teet it was, but we had nowhere else to -
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only had two miracles up his sleeve - heal cleft palate and "saintly glow while praying for the end of famine" so he was stationed in a dark corner before the statue of Our Lady of -
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the beaver of hyper-criticism. Snow White had wandered into the wrong forest. The goat of existential angst started chewing on the leaves of self-defeat. The narcissistic magpie -
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delivered cold. She was the conservative type, and she was very perceptive; not to mention easily offended. I suspected that under that prim-and-proper exterior, though, lie a -
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by the stuffy government, inadvertently awakening some long forgotten instinct to groom with naught but saliva and a prehensile tongue.