Funny Punchline Novels & Stories

He sighed and closed his eyes in defeat. “Fine, give me a damn line,” he muttered. I smiled, thinking of a line he could use. I didn’t want to give him one that was too good; after all, I didn’t actually want her to fall for it. “Okay, how about you say; do you mind if I hang out here until it’s safe back where I farted?” I joked, knowing he wouldn’t ever say that to a girl. He looked at me in disbelief.

- No one there laughing at anything. He was terrible at it, all the jokes were out of turn, whoever didn't understand. - I think he talks about the project to use Queen and other Kong relatives as city cleaners. – Another said. - It was a very interesting project. – Another said. - Damn this is a joke. – Then he punched a third, who fell sprawling to the ground. So, in the middle of the meeting, when they left the meeting, they were heading to their mansions and their next business.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance's best friend, Penny Lynd, showed me a video, smiling as she said, "Hey, Lydia. I've already educated Aron for you. He's now a real stud, so enjoy!" I felt my breath leaving my lungs as they made love in the video, while Aron Quaker laughed, clapping her shoulder. "Where did you get that AI video? I only took your clothes off that one time." While he was laughing without a care, I felt like I'd just fallen into an abyss. Seeing me lose my cool, Penny laughed out loud too. "There! I knew it would upset Lydia! She's so dumb that she can't even tell that it's an AI video—and a bet's a bet! Starting today, we will be married for three days." It was only t

I raised an eyebrow, "Butter who?" "It's butter if you don't know," he said cracking up laughing half way and I stepped aside to let him in, he bent down kissing my cheek which felt strange "I have a pizza joke too but it's not that funny. Ooh what smells nice? I have pizza, monopoly, and shit six dollar wine I picked up from ALDI, if we get poisoned, call triple zero, so have that on speed dial"

"Mr. Sterling shows Maeve a level of care and respect you will clearly never understand." "Papa, don't," I said, gently touching my father's arm. "There's no need to explain anything to him." I turned to Rhys. "Rhys, don't bring up that childhood betrothal again. It was just a joke made by the dons over drinks. It was never real." "Those were your words. Are you taking them back now?" Rhys opened his mouth, but no words came out. "The answer should be obvious," I said, standing up. "It was a joke then, so let's not pretend it's serious now."

everyone yelled in unison while laughing. THE END.

I suddenly say. "Why?" he ask looking at me interestingly clearly expecting for a meaningful answer. "Because, they both have 4 letters duh" I rolled my eyes as he laughed. "Nice joke" he comments sarcastically. We both laughed and let our pains and worries fly away even just for now as we lie down together. ************************************ Yeah, yeah I know it's a lameeeee chapter. Soweyyyy The end is near peoplesssss

Pearl was so busy laughing that she didn't notice Mister answer his phone. "What in the hell is going on down there?" He roared into the phone. Pearl snapped back to attention and simply said, "sprites are happening and this shit has gone CRAZY!" And then she laughed again. "Pearl I do not see what is so damn funny right now. Everything is falling APART and all you can do is laugh?" He asked her angrily.

On the screen, paused in high definition, was my mother’s face. “Yo, Trailer Park!” he shouted, laughing. “Your mom hosting a party tonight? Or is she passed out on the lawn?” His friends roared with laughter. My grip tightened on the empty pitcher until the plastic creaked. Don’t react. Don’t play games. “Enjoy your drinks,” I said, my voice dead. I turned and walked away, the laughter following me like a swarm of wasps. I pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen, dumping the pitcher in the sink. I leaned against the stainless steel counter, squeezing my eyes shut. I couldn't do this. I couldn't be the punchline anymore.

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