Kickass Humor Novels & Stories

Which means Mel never told her. I swallow hard. That tracks. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Heartbreak. The kind you bury so deep it fossilizes. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Yeah,” Kiara mutters after a second, shaking her head. “Karma’s a bitch.” Tell me about it.

Vasky mused, his tone a blend of curiosity and suspicion, "it's like a plot point straight out of a novel or movie." Carlin, seizing the opportunity for her signature witty jab, didn't miss a beat. "Ah, yes," she quipped, her tone dancing with humor, "the classic 'too easy' scenario. If this were reality, Vasky, your fashion choices would land you a life sentence." ‌ Vasky's retort was swift, his words a testament to his quick wit. "If my fashion choices were a crime worthy of life sentence," he countered, his tone carrying a touch of irony, “then your ugly mug deserves a death penalty."

“Non-lethal. Meant to incapacitate. You're welcome.” There was a long pause. I blinked a couple times. Then a laugh broke out of me before I could stop it. It wasn’t bitter, more disbelieving than anything. “Of course. That explains the prick and the blackout. I knew Anya hadn’t flattened me, but poison darts? Really? My sense of humor must be broken if I find this funny.” Anya actually chuckled again, clearly enjoying herself. Ka’id grimaced. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

“Sarcasm is my defense mechanism, so…shut up.” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “I should punish you for that.” “Yeah, Mr. Killer, what are you going to do?” “Hmm.” He looked around the room as he tried to come up with something. “I could fuck you.” “Pfft, that’s no punishment.” “No, but I just killed five guys and now I want to fuck your brains out.” My brow scrunched. “Is that a side effect?” “I guess you could call it that.”

“I know you’re lying, but it’s scary how much that could be true. Fuck, you’re a bitch.” I laughed, enjoying torturing my future ex-husband. “Don’t worry. I didn’t stick a needle into your balls. I'm pretty sure you would wake up from that, even if you were as drunk as you were back then.” “Not fucking funny,” Cassius said, his hands reaching for his groin. “I pity your future baby.” “Don’t fucking say that!” I started to cry. I almost never cry, and especially not in public. “Fuck, it was a joke. Just like you were, Fuck!” Cassius grunted. He handed me some tissues. “I’ll leave yo alone, okay. But if you do need something, just fucking ask. And I won’t tell.”

Though he held up a smile, his tone dripped with sarcasm. “Screw you.” I pushed myself up on my feet, lifting my hand to flick him off with my middle finger before I pushed back the tendrils of hair that had managed to make its way out of the bun I’d put it into, framing the front of my face—no doubt, after being tossed in the air again for the umpteenth time in just one morning. A small, barely noticeable laugh escaped Cassain’s slightly parted lips—one of the few instances he actually allows himself to enjoy the moment—unfortunately, it just has to be when I get my ass kicked my him again, and again, and a hella times more.

Ewww. ********************

I just laughed because of all their silliness. "Cheers" Cassandra uttered as she raised her glass filled with juice. Ayesha and I did the same thing. I also changed the whiskey I was drinking with juice because I am planning to go back to Xenoah's house today. "Cheers to the dicks we can't have right now" Ayesha mumbled as our glass clicks. "Ayesha!" Cassandra and I shouted. The coquette just laughed at the two of us. "Pussies" she commented while still laughing at our reaction.

Cassie suddenly chuckled. “What is it?” I ask her. “Seriously, Mel. Those last two lines came from you right?” Cassie says. “What? It’s true.” Mel retorted guiltily. “Korea is so awesome. Korea is the best!” Everyone laughed at her. “Let’s get high until we die!” Clark says once again. And we repeated after him. “What to do?” I tell Clark. “Just say ‘Do you still remember me?’” “That’s so arrogant.” Clark says laughing at what I said.

Leesa had to give the guy credit. He didn’t seem to let the catcalls and groans bother him. He either had the thickest skin in the world, or he thought the derision was in some twisted way an approval of his act. His jokes were new, but were equally as dumb as the last time. She wondered if he wrote the stuff himself or got it from some website—stupidjokes.com, maybe.