Comedy Gags の小説・ストーリー

I shake my head, “I just need you to be your usual Hema, making me laugh” He nods, “Hema the Comedian at your service . I’ll give you a discount since you’re practically family” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I instantly burst into laughter, “you look weird when you do that, never do that in front of a girl you like”

I might have lost my strength and muscle, but I still knew the moves. I could work with that. At the sight of my fighting stance, Malcom cackled, slapping his palm against his knee like he was watching some 1980s comedy show. His eyes gleamed with amusement, his curls bouncing with every movement of his head. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure, his laughter fading into the walls of the empty crematorium as he smoothed out his suit. "I can’t deal with this comedy show," he exclaimed, shaking his head as if he had just found himself in the most amusing situation of his life.

"What is it again?" Variety shows, comedy movies and comics are some examples of a field that was made to give laughter to the watchers or readers. But none succeeded in making Isaac laugh. However… "Pfff..." Soft and delicate giggles brightened the space. Reeled at his reaction, Maxine watched how he diligently covered his mouth to prevent himself from laughing even more. "Why are you laughing?" She asked, squinting her eyes. After clearing his throat, Isaac pulled out his smile. Then he apologized, "Sorry. But you don’t need to worry. After all, I am not a human."

Ragh suddenly asks, tilting his head and arching his eyebrow, looking like he’s genuinely curious about the answer I could be willing to give him. Instead of being the adult everyone tells me I am, I push out one hip, place a hand on it and purr, “because I’m sexy.” “I can see that,” Ragh mutters and after a few seconds, breaks out in laughter, holding his stomach as his deep, weird laugh echoes against the walls. When he finally calms down, he straightens up and wipes tears off his cheeks, still chuckling a little, “my apologies, I don’t remember the last time I’ve been entertained like this. It’s like.. what do you call it.. oh, a comedy show. A real one you humans pay money for, not the f

“What if I said it’s rope—because I plan to tie you up?” I considered for a beat, then shrugged. “Could be into that.” He exhaled, frustrated. “Shit. I should’ve bought rope.” “Except that would require a trip to a hardware store. Something tells me you don’t know where one even is.” “What if I told you it’s a ball gag? The kind that straps around your head and shuts that smart mouth of yours up. Would that scare you off?” “A ball gag?” “You caught on quick.” I leaned in close, speaking just above a whisper. “I own Caddyshack, Happy Gilmore, and Anchorman. But instead of boring war epics, I have a few movies that lean in a different direction.”

"What is it again?" Variety shows, comedy movies and comics are some examples of field that was made to give laugh to the watchers or readers. But none succeeded to make Minghao laugh. However... "Pfff..." Soft and delicate giggles brightened the space. Reeled at his reaction, Celine watched how he diligently covered his mouth to prevent himself from laughing even more. "Why are you laughing?" She squinted her eyes. After clearing his throat, Minghao pulled out his smile. Then he excused an apology, "Sorry, master."

A man leaned at the other side of the table with his forearm on top of the table. "Why are you laughing? Do you see something I couldn't?" He glances from side-to-side and furrowed his brows. "Can you see ghosts?" His eyes widened as he dramatically crosses his arms across his chest, those things the comedians do to express an exaggerated act of fear. I rolled my eyes and poured another shot of cognac. "I just can't believe some things..." I licked my lips, thinking if I should continue or not. His eyes stayed at me, he puts another forearm on top of the table and leaned his chin against his palm.

I looked at him, gazing at the scar and his steel silver eyes that assessed me bore no emotion as usual and then I looked at the army and the two women a few paces away from me and I did what was best at the moment. I flared into deep, boisterous laughter, the type of laughter that made me want to clutch onto my belly despite my hands being tied and the type that made me want to roll on the floor while laughing cause this was the best birthday prank ever and grump was a damn good actor. _________________

Simultaneously, they decided that words were overrated. PBBBBBT! They both blew massive, wet raspberries, cheeks puffed out like chipmunks. The force of the expulsion sent a spray of soggy biscuit crumbs flying across the room like shrapnel, glittering in the kitchen light before raining down on the floor. They froze for a second, wide-eyed, looking at the mess they had created. Then, as if on cue, they exploded into hysterical giggles, throwing their heads back. To them, it was the funniest thing that had ever happened in the history of the world—an act of pure, anarchic comedy.

“To do something different.” Asher shrugged. I watched her a second longer. Something was definitely off. But I pushed the thought away before it could stick. Not everything needed to be analyzed. The next performer walked onstage and announced he was doing stand-up comedy. Within thirty seconds, he forgot his joke. Then tried to recover. Then knocked over the microphone stand by accident. The loud screech from the speakers made half the audience jump before bursting into laughter. The guy panicked, tried to pick up the stand, almost dropped it again, and the whole room exploded with laughter.