Novel Humor Novels & Stories

She said that and I started dying on the floor, that was probably the funniest thing I've ever heard. "That is the fucking stoner spectrum!! Either you're a fucking Einstein or a fucking retard that tried to play baseball with a robot," I said, laughing through my words, causing Alex to break too, laughing and pointing out how fucked up my sense of humor is, "It's not my fault! Imagine having a fucked up humor before going through the dungeons of hell to become an arch-demon." "Tha-That's fair but still, that's fucked!" "Fuck me, that was funny," I said and the look I got from Alex scared the fuck outta me, she looked hungry but also cautious, "You good?"

The chill drenched into my bones, and I shivered. Zack stood at the entrance, his smile sardonic. He clapped his hands, and the maids got the message. They grabbed the snow off the ground and made snowballs. Then they hurled the snowballs at us. The snowballs exploded the moment they came in contact with our skin. The chill seeped in worse than ever. This was humiliating. It almost felt like I was a toy. I struggled and thrashed around. "Stop! They're Wendy's parents!"

The night felt far longer than usual. I lay in my room, utterly consumed by a profound sense of boredom. To pass the time, I began fiddling with my phone, opening a folder in my cloud storage that contained drafts for an advertising competition proposal. I had been intentionally designing an ad concept with a humorous storyline. My theory was that a touch of humor could make a struggling product much more appealing to the masses. "This looks good enough. Should I ask for Jovanca’s opinion tomorrow? Ah, whatever, tomorrow it is," I murmured softly.

[Carnelia] This minstrel has a strange sense of humor. For example, it is not funny that I woke up in a strange bed with a strange man thinking we had done strange things while I was unconscious from too much drink--and yet he was laughing hysterically just a few moments before.

“Says the man who used an annotated memoir on territorial legislation as bedtime reading.” He leaned back, that amused tilt softening the sharp lines of his jaw. “That was strategy.” “No, that was masochism. At least my books have characters who feel things.” “Like talking ravens and ravishing maidens.” I cracked a smile before I could stop it. “As opposed to your gripping tale of Pack finance reforms in 1997?” “Historic. Influential.” “Boring.” We were both laughing now, genuinely, fully, that kind of surprised laughter that bubbles up when you were least expecting it. It felt warm, stupid, a little reckless. I hadn’t laughed like that in… gods, I didn’t know how long.

When Luciana saw him attempt it at the end, she smiled. “Holy Crap! ” Jalon yelled from the opposite end of the room. He sprung from his seat, knocking the bag of chips on his laps on the ground. “What is it? Did another old lady send you photos of herself half-naked, expressing her desire to spend the rest of her life with you? ” Luciana said, mockingly. Norval couldn't stop himself from laughing. Luciana, as serious as she was, had a subtle sense of humor that caught people off guard and was always appreciated when she decided to exhibit her lighter side. She was one of those persons who had a natural sense of humor and could make people laugh without even trying.

I asked, "So, Miss. How is it going with the Dark humour guy? Any update so far?" "HA! Dark humour! He's the funniest guy, I've ever met. Didn't you hear that line of him? I mean he called himself motherfucker; oh my, that's the kind of humour I love. Every time he cracks a joke, it makes me head over heels for him. And not forget his awkwardness around girls" the sarcasm was dripping from her mouth. But that changed my mood. And we both started chuckling, "He's not that bad!" I exclaimed. Right? He's not that bad.

Noah flinched, “Well, let’s look at the bright side… at least he didn’t vaporize himself.” Blackie snorted, “…he can’t vaporize himself any more than you can soothe yourself.” “Oh. Well… at least he didn’t vaporize the water he’d already drunk?” “Yeah, good thing that one finely steamed stomach wasn’t on the menu…” “…Blackie …I realize that black humor fits in well with your name… and personality… but there is such a thing as being too black!” QAQ (≖_≖) “Is that a veiled insult where you tell me that I shouldn’t be myself, Black?”

’ Although he was doing his best, he could not quite hide the minute spasm at the corner of his mouth. Well, that was a relief. If not actually kicking, his sense of humour was at least alive and twitching. On the other hand, if he’d been behaving like what she and Kate called a BHP - for boring, humourless prat - she would begin to go off him, which might be no bad thing. A man could be rolling in dosh and dishy as you like, kind to old ladies and even a ten on the Richter Scale kisser, but without a sense of humour he was about as much use to Claudia as a 32A bra.