Humor Scripts Novels & Stories

Micah could only helplessly place his hand on his forehead, wondering if it was too late to pretend he didn't know her. The other customers glanced at Sandra. They were increasingly convinced that something was wrong with her mind. Someone even mocked her. Sandra glanced at the person and said, "I'm praising my husband's skill in peeling crawfish. What's so funny about that?" But the individual laughed even harder. Seeing that, Sandra muttered, "Men laugh like idiots while women giggle weirdly." "Alright, let's not embarrass ourselves anymore." As Micah spoke, he peeled a crawfish and fed Sandra, who ate quietly. Only then did she calm down.

Grace chuckled, her voice laced with mockery, "Why? Because I find it amusing to see you squirm. Aren't you supposed to be this tough? The one who fabricates evidence? Well, if you're so smart, why don't you outsmart me?" A burst of laughter erupted from the room, with Wade's unrestrained laughter echoing through the air. Vivianne saw a middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to Wade joined in the mirth, while Priscilla covered her mouth, her laughter barely contained. The CEOs chimed in with forced chuckles, their faces etched with amusement. Surrounded by mocking laughter, Vivianne felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. At this moment, she felt like a clown on display, her dignity

I smiled warmly back at him and we continued to play the game. I was called up next. My word was a ‘printer’. How the hell was I supposed to act that out? Were there other difficult ones in there as well? I bent my knees and began to show that something was coming out of my mouth. The crazy replies nearly threw me off my game. “Cholera!” “Sick” “Really bad singing!” “Orgasm!” Everyone broke into a fit of laughter. Even I couldn’t believe what Jay was saying. “Who the hell orgasms like that, Jay?” Luke asked, laughing hard as he looped his arm around Emily.

"For. For a presentation. It's. Very dramatic. Material." Long pause. "Okay. If you're sure." "Positive. Thank you. Sorry for the noise." Footsteps retreated. Faded. We looked at each other. Still frozen. Still connected. Then. Started laughing. Couldn't help it. "Rehearsing?" I giggled. "Best I could do on short notice." "Very dramatic material?" "It's not wrong." I laughed harder. He joined. Both of us. Ridiculous. Happy. "You think this is funny?" he asked.

The man marched up to me and, to my surprise, burst into a peal of mocking laughter. Did you hear her, men? She is very thirsty. I think we should give her some water, isn't it? His sarcasm dripped off every word he uttered. They cheered loudly like cavemen, clamouring for some action. He left my side briefly and returned with a small bowl filled with liquid.

“Never thought I'd see the day. Would you mind checking the temperature in hell, darling?” Roman growled, and Lucas gave him a silly syrupy smile that was so odd, it made me laugh. This was just insane. The boom box, the jab, Lucas misplaced but quirky jokes Romans's eyes fell on mine, and an unreadable expression made his face tight. “Why are you laughing?” he asked softly. “I don't see anything funny in what he said.” For what would be the third time, I resisted rolling my eyes at him. Lucas chuckled “Brother, your sense of humor is so dry, it could strike a match.” He took my hand and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes and my belly hurt from laughing so much but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. This was exactly the joke I needed to get out of the terrible mood I was in. By the time I was done laughing, I cleared my throat. “Thanks for making me laugh bestie. That was exactly what I needed. Your impeccable sense of humour.” I complimented. Taking in a deep breath, she whispered shakily. “I know right, just that I’m goddamn serious and I have two weeks left before I become a baby machine to someone who is of the same age as my father.”

Lucien standing relaxed. The bigshots watching—unmoved. He had spoken a line meant for a scene that no longer existed. And now— He was the only one still acting. Lucien suddenly laughed. Not politely. Not quietly. It was the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads—followed by a few light claps and a slow shake of his head, like he was genuinely impressed. "Bravo," he said cheerfully. "So you're the scriptwriter of this drama." A ripple of laughter spread among the onlookers.

she quipped, her laughter mingling with the baby’s cries, adding a note of levity to the sudden commotion. "Well, let me make it up to him then. Baby whisperer, duty calls," Lucas declared, looking directly at me with a half-serious, half-playful expression. I couldn't help but smile at his antics. His attempt to shift responsibility onto me reeked of his classic humor "How is that you making it up to him exactly?" I retorted, raising an eyebrow in amused disbelief. The room echoed with chuckles, our merry atmosphere unabated even in the face of baby-induced chaos.

“Hahaha! That’s brutal!” I forced a smile and tugged at the corner of my mouth. This had been a script I’d written myself to survive—to drag him off his pedestal and watch him fall. However, as I stared at those cruel jokes, my smile slowly froze. I turned and looked at the tightly closed office door behind me. My mind replayed the scene from moments ago.