Pathological Joking Novels & Stories

Damon teased me. "You don't know what you're talking about. How about him, doesn't he seem off?" I said as I nudged my head towards Garrett. "That's another weird one." Peter said. "He's been acting weird. Probably spent his entire night masturbating to some babes nude photos till his dick got sore." Damon jokes. It was supposed to be a joke but suddenly, Garrett flared up. "What is that supposed to be?" He demanded. "Hey, y'all, there's a person here." I said, strategically avoiding the word human as that would seem too weird. I did not want to scare Jace away from all of us.

Unconsciously, I clenched my fists tightly, making the tips of my nails hurt my palms. However, when our noses touched, Samuel suddenly moved his face away and then snorted as if holding back laughter. "Hey, I was just joking," he said. I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he said that. Samuel's jokes had always been over the top, but this one had gone too far — I thought. "Hahh... I told you, stop joking around like that," I protested, "It's not funny at all, you know." A second later, Samuel smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I just find it fun to annoy you, Jeanne," he said, chuckling softly.

-C I am not joking. So please answer the darn question with a damn answer -B I'm getting ready -C To? -B Die. - C Where are you? Don't do anything stupid. -B I'm joking. I'm going to a party. -C I reply, scared that he would show up again. And this time he would be really pissed off. Don't. I mean. Don't ever joke like that. -B Why? The big bad wolf is worried. -C

Patrick interrupted us, "I agreed with Trenton; there's a lot of women in the club. So let's catch a fish and share it later in bed. I bought condoms in advance." Trenton and I glared at him, "I couldn't believe that we have a mentally ill friend like you." I said, and then Trenton followed up. "I don't like sharing. I might get diseases from you." "I agree. Let's go, then pretend that he doesn't exist." Then I started to walk away from Patrick. "Ok." Trenton agreed, and we walked together away from Patrick. "Hey, guys. I am just joking! Wait for me!" Patrick raised his voice as he tailed us.

I muttered with a serious tone, but it was just about right to make Celene laugh. “Only you call a cancer patient going through chemotherapy a coconut head. Don’t you know I am sensitive?” Celene asked, smiling and wiping her tears. I winked playfully. “I know your head is sensitive to slaps.” “Megan, stop!” Celene burst out laughing. “Okay, you win, I am laughing.” I smiled, my eyes hiding my pain. Celene was among the very few people that could joke about their situation to make others and herself happy.

What is the name of a lab coat with that lame humor? Doctors are also taken too seriously for us to be joking with them. "Ma'am, you have chlamydia but the joke in there is-" There is no fucking joke there, just tell me the freaking diagnosis and let me leave sadly. If I wanted a joke, I would go see a comedy movie or something.

I muttered, “if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t poison you. I’d shoot you instead.” Their mouths dropped open, and I realized too late that I shouldn’t be joking about something like that. A nervous laugh fell from my lips. “I—I was only joking. You’d be able to smell poison from a mile away, and I know you’ll get the gun away from me within seconds.” Devrim was the first to break the silence. “You humans have a sick sense of humour. I don’t really see what’s so funny in what you said.” “I’m sorry.”

“Are you allowed to make dead jokes about your parents?” “I know it’s rude,” he replied, grinning with zero shame. “It’s not supposed to be funny. But I get one morbid joke, don’t I? Don’t we all? Some day you’ll be making jokes about your family too.” I doubled over in laughter, the kind that shook my shoulders and made my ribs ache. Not because it was that funny, but because I needed it. Because it pulled me out of the heavy place in my mind where grief lived. Because he looked so happy saying such a thing when there was nothing to laugh about.

Once again, he jumped on his feet and shouted, "This is fucking unscientific. I am so powerful that I have not touched anything." He looked angrily at the stout old man, the middle-aged intellectual, the strong fellow with halberds and others. He asked, "To be honest, haven't you obtained all things in the mass?" "No, no, we haven't had time to fumble for treasures in it." "Yes, yes, really not." "If you don't believe, you can search me." Three people in bitter faces hurriedly explained to the cynical and neuropathic patient— yes, three people had classified this cynical man without any noble character as the neuropathic patients.

I can hear them laughing like there's something funny. "Fuck you Joah! Tell them that they shouldn't laugh at me or else, I won't let you use my Ethrovin." I know my forehead was furrowing but I can't help it. I can't imagine that I would lend my Ethrovin jevinskale x90 to those morons, knowing that those guys were total jackasss. The image of my friends partying, flirting, making out, fucking girls, drinking whiskey, black label, vodka, and tequila is hella scaring the shit of me.