Funny Dark Humor Jokes Novels & Stories

"What's going on?" I opened my mouth to deflect, to make another joke, but nothing came. The words just stuck in my throat. "I can't do it anymore," I finally said. My voice sounded strange. Small. "Can't do what?" "The jokes. The humor. The whole funny guy routine." I laughed bitterly. "Everyone expects me to make things lighter. To crack jokes when things get dark. And I've been doing it because it's easier than facing what I'm actually feeling." "Which is?"

“Are you allowed to make dead jokes about your parents?” “I know it’s rude,” he replied, grinning with zero shame. “It’s not supposed to be funny. But I get one morbid joke, don’t I? Don’t we all? Some day you’ll be making jokes about your family too.” I doubled over in laughter, the kind that shook my shoulders and made my ribs ache. Not because it was that funny, but because I needed it. Because it pulled me out of the heavy place in my mind where grief lived. Because he looked so happy saying such a thing when there was nothing to laugh about.

"Yes, I did. Now could you do me a favor and throw more light on the subject." "You are doing it again," Goodness laughed. "What am I doing again?" "You are telling me to throw more light on the subject." "And what is strange about telling a friend to throw more light on a subject that he brought up?" "So, you don't know what is funny in your statement?" "I honestly don't know what is funny in my statement. I am as confused as a hawk who found out about week ago that he has been stalking the grave where his dead mother was laid to rest."

I needed to know I’m not gonna die today. “You already suggested dying,” he jumped over a tree trunk and continued his journey, not staring to the sides for even a second. “Are you kidding me? That was a…was…that was some kind of joke.” “Mine too,” he scoffed. “Dark humor girly huh,” he stopped and stared down at me. “As much as you like dark humor, trust me, you don’t want to be here when it gets dark.” He turned around and walked away, “Better keep up.”

I threw a shadow sickle at the Dark Fae, which effectively decapitated it. Was this really the time for jokes? We were literally in the middle of fighting for our lives. ‘You’re such a bore. It’s always the time for a good joke.’ He scoffed at me. I sighed, knowing that he would not give in until I followed through with this. ‘Fine. Who’s there?’ ‘Fire up.’ I tilted my head, trying to anticipate where this might be going. Knowing him, it could literally be anywhere. ‘Fire up who?’ ‘Fire up the grill because we’re in the middle of a motherfucking BBQ!’

“Uhm, my car is this way. It’s pretty small, sorry. I don’t usually drive lumberjacks around, so I got a compact.” I laughed warmly. “So that’s all I am to you, huh? A lumberjack?” “I guess you would be more of a timber wolf?” she said, tapping her chin with the tip of her finger. “And you say I tell bad dad jokes?” I asked incredulously. “That one blows Fur Sure Solutions right out of the water.” Marley giggled. “What? I thought it was clever.” “The joke, much like you, was very clever,” I said indulgently. “But it was also very bad.”

Easter frowned trying to think but then shook her head negatively. "An impasta!" With that, they both started laughing making Sarah stare at the man dumbfounded. She heard this joke trillion times and she was sure this man must have used it many times as well but he was still laughing like a hyena. Darren looked up finding the woman he wanted to meet standing there with ridiculed expression openly telling him how lame his joke was. Sarah turned away from him grabbing the bags but watching her struggling with them he chuckled lowly standing up and making Easter look at him.

Liam said with grin “It most certainly is,” Bruce said with a frown. “You didn’t even give the joke a chance,” Garth said. “A joke that involves bestiality doesn’t deserve a chance,” Bruce said haughtily. “Where did you hear these jokes? You guys have never been joke tellers.” “That hotter than smoke brunette in the red dress,” Garth answered bluntly. “She’s been telling all kinds of jokes for the past forty minutes to various people.” “Like who?” Bruce asked with concern.

Bradley Fry, my CEO husband, loves bringing his friends home for meals the most. He claims that this makes them feel like an actual family. As they drink in the feast I've whipped up for everyone, one of Bradley's friends comments smilingly, "I knew that you were a virtuous one, Emily! Now this is how the legitimate wife should act!" My expression doesn't falter as I ask in a half-joking manner, "Oh? Does Bradley have a spoiled and pampered mistress by his side, then?" His friends are stunned by my question. A trace of panic crosses their eyes simultaneously. But Bradley just wraps an arm around my shoulders with a smile. "Don't listen to their nonsense, Emily. Who else is worthy as my

"You have no idea–I was just joking around, but those disgusting guys went crazy asking me for your contact." The old me would have already been crying, asking her how she could do this to me, voice breaking. Not this me. My teeth clenched so hard they hurt. My whole body trembled with anger. I snatched the flyer out of her hand and slapped her across the face. Tara screamed, clutching her cheek in disbelief. "You hit me? I treat you like my best friend, and you can't even take a joke anymore?" Best friend? I let out a cold laugh.