Laughs Maniacally Novels & Stories

But no, that’d be too clean for this crew. I turn to Big King, grinning like a madman. “I think ya kid’s broken,” I say, my laughter bubblin' up uncontrollably as if someone’s just flipped a switch in my brain. The tension snaps, and I laugh harder, my body shakin' with it. It’s all so absurd, so ridiculous. The whole world is spinnin', and I’m just 'ere for the ride.

He laughed out loud like a maniac and went back into the jacuzzi. Taking a sip from his wine, he curled his lips up nefariously. " Let the game begin......"

Cue evil laughter. “Serves you right, you emotionally constipated maniac.”

It was faint, fragile, but it was there. He blinked rapidly, his voice shaking as he spoke, “Y-yeah! That’s the issue, unlike the people there I didn't die. I swea—” The Game Master’s grin widened so much it made the man trail off. “Oh, you forgetful silly,” it said, voice suddenly dripping with mockery. Then it threw its head back and burst into laughter. Loud, manic, unrestrained laughter that bounced off the metal walls. It laughed so hard that even some of the crying stopped — people freezing mid-sob, stunned by the sheer insanity of the sound.

I accidentally honk my horn with every impact of my hand against the wheel. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck! Shit!" I scream, slamming my hands down with every word. "What the fuck did I do to deserve this?! Huh?! What the fuck have I done?!" I ask no one. I am greeted by silence in reply to my temper tantrum. I surprised myself when I started to laugh. I mean, laugh. "This is fucked up. This is so fucked up." I laugh out loud to myself. I see a guy looking at me laughing and crying and screaming to myself in my car. Surprisingly, I don't give a fuck.

I questioned. “Sure… just not as much as I’d like. So we both scrambled to ease back from the moment, laughing so hard by this point that we had tears in our eyes. Lily was rolling on the floor laughing, and she grabbed her stomach and shouted, ‘I’m gonna piss myself.’”

Arthur shakes his head, understanding why my laughing sounded forced. He probably assumed that was my typical laughter. When the man on the flat-screen television says anything, everyone in the room starts laughing like a maniac in a horror movie. "Alright, I don't think I can hold it any longer." I eventually said it, a grimace on my face.

Just by the smell, they can already taste its flesh. I quickly grabbed Manang's arm. "I'm not going to die here, am I?" "Oh, fvck!" the man said and laughed uncontrollably while holding onto his bandaged stomach. "Oh, damn! My wound." I glared at him. "You are not going to stop?" "What? Is it bad to laugh?" he said back. I gritted my teeth. "Yes, it's bad if it's insulting." He let out a whistle and then pocketed his hand. For a moment he glanced at my whole being. Gradually, the edge of his lip lifted.

Lincoln’s entire body locks up. His pupils dilate for half a second—a near-imperceptible flash. His hand tightens around mine. And then—his voice comes out low, clipped, strangled with disbelief. “How did… you…” But before he can finish— Mr. Thompson lets out a sudden, maniacal laugh. The sound crashes through the room like shattering glass. The atmosphere turns cold. And then— A champagne flute smashes against the floor. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he snarls.

Damon's face goes pale and he starts to pull back but then Garrett does something unexpected. He laughs. Not just a small laugh, but a full-blown hysterical cackling that echoes off the stone walls of the holding cell. It's the kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl and says someone has completely lost their mind.