Fiction Humor Novels & Stories

"Now that deserves a SANDing-ovation. I was afraid I was going to have to use some CAMEL-flage to get out of here. I was just SHORE things were going to end badly. Now I am hungry. You know what I want?" The other men started. "A…a SANDwich?" Renat asked, unsure of what to do with the jolly general. "Precisely! And don't forget DEsSERT," Junayd laughed. "But don't try to SAND by me to me when it comes to jokes. You will always come up a few GRAINs short." The boy shrugged and gave the General a sidelong glance. "I have found that all jokes about deserts fall under DRY humor. But perhaps that is because one has to be deserted to fully appreciate them."

My fits of giggles turned into full-blown laughter thanks to my intoxication. Dark humor was just my type. “You are funny,” I said. “But seriously, what happened?” “I take upon boxing as fitness. I recently found out a friend of mine passed away. My emotions got ahead of me.” I frowned and my body slumped. “I am so sorry to hear that.” “Don’t worry,” he said. Feeling bad, I decided to change the topic. I waved down to the waiter and ordered another drink. It was delivered not long after. No wonder he deflected so much and was a bit annoyed when I continued to pry. He lost someone important to him.

' I say mentally. However, what I say, although it calms him down, doesn't make him feel embarrassed or angry, but rather, he laughs. And he doesn't laugh coldly, but, a genuine laugh, the kind you can't fake. Showing me that he does feel. That he can be happy. "I've never heard a joke as good as this one, wife. You should be a humorist," Helmut says wiping away a tear that escaped his eyes from laughing so hard. "What joke are you talking about?"

“Because it makes you laugh?” He clicked his tongue, a smile on his face. “You finally get it.” I rolled my eyes. “But ONLY you does it make laugh. Real jokes are so funny everyone around would burst into laughter, not them crying while you’re having a blast.” “A joke is a joke.” “…Your sense of humor is rotten,” I ended up muttering, hissing as his rough fingers tugged at the bandage wrapped around my ribs. The cloth peeled away sticky and damp, and the stench of dried blood hit my nose. I fought the urge to gag.

he explained, taking a scoop of fried rice, the grains fluffy and infused with egg, green onions, and a touch of soy for depth. I nodded, sharing my love for more modern sketch comedy, like the silly, over-the-top bits from shows like Saturday Night Live or Key & Peele. "The absurdity and timing get me every time," I said, reaching for another dumpling, dipping it carefully to avoid spilling. "Like those sketches where everything escalates in the most hilarious, unexpected ways it's pure ecstasy." The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by bursts of laughter from the TV and our own comments, turning the meal into a delightful experience. The food was hot and comforting, the company eve

status to flirt with female colleagues from other departments. I tolerated it, telling myself he was just networking. But now, just to impress Miguel and get ahead, he couldn't wait to trample all over me. I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Todd Westman, what right do you have to lecture me?" His eyes darted around for a second before he raised his voice even louder. "I'm just saying this as a colleague who knows right from wrong! You should know what's good for you, Macy!" Looking at his hypocritical, revolting expression, I couldn't even be bothered to argue. I picked up the iced coffee on my desk and, without hesitation, splashed it straight in his face.

she giggled at her own joke. Guila’s giggle rippled through the air, a moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere. Her joke, bizarre and unexpected, painted a vivid picture in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile at her words, the image she conjured absurdly amusing. It was as if, even in the darkest moments, she managed to find a glimmer of humor, a ray of light that pierced through the shadows.

"Pregnancy has become disadvantage to you, Kitcat...I bet he'll tell you the grass is too green for you to step outside tomorrow." "Shut up, Liam. I'm not trying to make jokes." "And see...your pregnancy has become a disadvantage to me too...look at him snapping at me because of a fetus." "I'd advise you to shut your mouth, Liam...his face is getting red, it's about to swell...he's transforming into..." "Angry bird!" Liam and Fredd bursted out into hysterical laughing at their apparently funny joke...but Zillon didn't seem to find it funny, he was as serious as judge. "F*cking idiots..."

She chuckled and then broke into delighted laughter. He grinned. “You get that I’m joking?” “Well, of course you’re joking. Vomity ones.” She laughed again. “Too funny.” “Most people don’t get my jokes. Say they’re inappropriate.” He finger-quoted inappropriate. “Are they idiots?” “Arguably.” She laughed again. “A woman who gets my jokes…” His pleased little grin turned into a broad smile. “Can I buy you a coffee sometime? Or a jet?” “A jet?” She laughed until her stomach ached and she had to bend over with her hands on both knees to catch her breath. “You’re killing me.”

Almost. Just that I do not laugh. Humor is not something I recognize even if it smacks me right in the face. I learnt early that I do not have a good sense of humor, as while I don’t have time for jokes, I used to laugh at the oddest hours, mostly when there is something as a serious as death on the line. That was weird. I know, and didn’t need anyone to tell me. So I stopped laughing all together. “It’s a ten minutes’ walk.”