Funny Sarcasm Novels & Stories

He shook his head, putting a hand over his bike like it was the Oscar award. I blew a breath. "It will save us time and energy resources. Use your brains for a change." "I do use my brains, you should too. Oh wait! You don't have any!" He exclaimed in mock horror. "Of course not! That's precisely why Mrs. Finn assigned me tutor you. Oh the irony!" "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." "It is the only answer to stupidity." "Haha, you aren't afraid of motorbikes?" He asked, changing the subject.

I tell him. He chuckles, “Just one?” “Just one that would offend you, sir,” I shoot back, my tone not particularly nice, “When I take tea with other people, I tend to converse with them. And when I converse with people, I'm likely to do so in a polite and friendly manner. And when that happens ....” “Sarcasm doesn't become you," His eyes narrows. “And when that happens,” I continue in a louder voice, “The strangest thing occurs. Not all the time, mind you, and probably not with you, Typhon, but I'm sure you wouldn't like to chance it.”

Insert sarcasm. I looked at Eula and plastered an evil grin on my face. She widened her eyes at me, looking stressed as ever. "I said, my name is Florence Mil," I said and flashed an innocent smile. "Oh, your office looks dull, by the way. It's plain and boring, the cabinets are not even well organized, and the colors... tsk, tsk, tsk... whoever designed this office has a bad taste." I shook my head and pretend to be disgusted.

He deserved the award for being the best friend in the entire world, “Let’s see, from being slapped on your wedding reception, to being told to ‘go fuck yourself where the sun doesn’t shine and to being compared with a giant pimple in the ass, which of course, hurts, all in a span of 12 hours after the wedding, I should rather say, marriage life is fuckin’ great..” Note the sarcasm. But that didn’t stop the dickhead of a friend I have, because he laughed even harder. At some point, I found myself laughing along with him. Just the mere thought of the recent events was screwing with my mind.

My phone buzzed on the counter. Jenny. I smiled despite myself. {You alive} Her typing bubble appeared almost instantly. {Excellent. Sarcasm means function. I’m coming over in twenty. Don’t put a bra on if you’re still wallowing.} I laughed under my breath before I could stop myself. {Please never phrase things like that again} {No promises. You need rescuing.}

“You just attacked his men. That’s not exactly what allies do to each other.” He purses his lips thoughtfully. “Isn’t it? I had no idea!” I roll my eyes. “You know, they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit…” He grins wider. “Oh, but that quote is incomplete. Oscar Wilde actually said ‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit but the highest form of intelligence.’” I scowl. “It doesn’t change the fact that it’s not nice. It’s self-serving.” “How so?” I take a deep breath, eager to talk and distract him so he won’t decide something uncool. Like hurt me, for one. I need to stay alive until Kaan finds me. “It aims to belittle the other person and make the one who uses it feel superior.”

Raising my tone, just as he did, although if someone heard us talking, they would surely mistake it for a murmur. “And then you earn…how much? A hundred crores, like that takla writer, right? I really don’t know where you got those ideas from!” he had now invoked the most lethal of all linguistic weapons – sarcasm – more powerful than a thousand arrows of invectives, yelling, screaming and all those tools that one can use while making their dissatisfaction, disagreement or disapproval over something obvious. Kela and Baal hurt, but sarcasms leave serious wounds for the entire lifetime. Wounds that don’t really heal.

“Indeed. You’re the most talented rock skipper here.” He chuckles and nudges me. “You know, sarcasm is considered the lowest form of wit.” “Point out someone who believes that, and I’ll show you someone who proves that common sense isn’t as common as they think. Anyone who says that phrase is someone it takes minutes or even days to realize they have been insulted through what they consider wit that’s beneath them. They are the true geniuses among us.” “Hmm…you may have a point,” he says. After a few minutes, he glares at me. “Rude.”

"I don't actually accept jokes." I bit the insides of my cheeks out of shame. This is so annoying yet embarrassing at the same time. I mean, I meant what I said lately and he should take it as a joke! He knows that that is a flirty sentence yet he acts like he does not get any sarcasm. I would like to punch him right away in his face. How can I do so anyway? I let out an exaggerating sigh and I almost massage my temple. "I am sarcastic for Pete's sake," I said in monotone, almost a whisper but I made sure that he can hear me say that.

I threatened but he knew I wasn’t that serious and at the same time, he knew I wasn’t joking about it. There are two different meanings to it. “Fine. You are one funny man to be around, aren’t you?” He said sarcastically but I said nothing. “While looking into the woman like you’d asked the last time you ever picked up your phone to call me, I found something rather interesting and thought you would be excited to know about it.” He started and just like he said I’m one impatient man. “Spit it out, Kirk.” I snapped. He glared at me but I heard him mumble something like ‘crazy man!’ underneath his breath.