Peanuts Joke Novels & Stories

They were still laughing, like nothing mattered. I hugged my knees to my chest and pressed my back to the cool brick wall. I dragged the toe of my shoe through the dirt, drawing meaningless lines. Circles. Anything to distract myself. What were they even laughing about? Maybe it was something Penny said. She wasn’t even that funny, yet somehow everyone she talks to laughs at her jokes like she’s some kind of comedian. I rolled my eyes. I bet the Caelum Devils are fawning over her. Like puppets.

“Wait, I’ve got more. What do you call a can opener that doesn’t work?” He side-eyes me. “What?” “A can’t opener.” Levi groans, shaking his head. “You’re actually proud of that one.” I grin. “Of course I am. Little bit.” He tosses some chopped parsley into the pan. “These jokes are terrible.” “You asked for it and you’re still laughing.” He tries to hide it, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitching again. “I’m humoring you.” “Uh huh. Okay. One last one. Promise.”

They chuckle lightly at my joke and I'm glad it didn't go over their heads. “This is your first time meeting us”. One of the men says…I've genuinely forgotten his name and pack. “What do you think? Do you also think Fern is a dickhead?”. The Fern in question throws a butter knife, landing it perfectly between the man's hands on the table. “Shut up, Keren”. I can't tell if it's a joke but Keren doesn't flinch, just turns to me and shrugs in mock surrender. “I told you”. He says. The table chuckles again and I realize then that it must be a joke. What…a unique sense of humor.

I informed him. “Buying more gummy bears?” He chuckled. “No, I’m buying a chainsaw!” I smiled sarcastically. “Of course I’m buying gummy bears! What else would I do in a candy shop?” I huffed. “Buy jelly beans?” He offered. “I’m buying those too!” I remarked. “But you’re still a peanut!” I grumbled. “You are cranky. Getting low on sugar?” He asked. I glared at him. “I’ll stop talking now.” He pretended to zip his lips.

First I put the peanut butter on the floor, I quickly took off my pajamas and panties. Tangeks, what did I eat that suddenly hurts? As far as I remember, I didn't eat anything that could be with the stomach? maybe I ate karma or what? Karma is impossible to fear for me. I looked at the peanut butter, it seemed to light up and told me to take it and use it. "Can't you wait huh?" I frowned. "Ms. Vee, who are you talking to there?" "Don't get caught! I'm talking to myself!" I yelled. He really has no way, no. Can't he see este can't he here that we're having fun eight now and I don't want to be disturbed!

Heavy with shit we weren’t saying. I cleared my throat. “Alright. That’s enough depressing hospital talk. You know what would really make my day better?” He glanced at me, brows raised. “A really dumb joke.” Andrew blinked. Then tilted his head a little, lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. “A dumb joke?” I nodded, lips curving around the cigarette still hanging from my mouth. “Come on. Hit me.” He gave me a look—half skeptical, half amused. “Fine. What do you call a sad strawberry?”

" Ian frowned at the question. Ian (8:15 pm) : What kind stupid question are you asking? Irritating Twat (8:16 pm) : Don't know the answer? Ian (8:16 pm): No. Irritating Twat (8:17 pm) : Because it is made out of cells! Haha! Ian gaped at the message for a long time before a small laugh escaped his mouth. The joke was really lame but it was funny.

He made me laugh, a genuine, bubbling sound that felt good after the fear. “Your turn,” he challenged, when he finished. “Tell me a joke. Something to keep the darkness at bay.” I thought for a moment. “Okay, okay… What do you call a fake noodle?” He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. “What?” “An impasta!” I delivered the punchline with a flourish, and he actually laughed, a deep, booming sound that warmed the room. “Alright, alright, that was a good one, for a rookie,” he teased. “My turn. Why did the scarecrow win an award?”

the man said to her. She laughed, the kind of laugh that made heads turn. “Distracting? That’s bold coming from a man who’s been staring at unopened peanuts for ten minutes.” I glanced at them, and the man shifted awkwardly under my gaze. “I was… strategizing. Peanuts are…kinda complicated.” “Complicated?” she echoed, amused. “Yes.” He puffed out his chest. “There’s the packet tear, the perfect salt-to-crunch ratio, the… uh… chewing coordination.”

Groceries needed restocking. Pierce's favorite peanut butter was criminally low. I opened the jar and just stood there staring at it. He dug into it, not with a spoon, or a butter spreader, but a knife. And now there was a literal hole in the center like a peanut butter volcano had erupted. No clue why he does that, but it’s weirdly adorable. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a loose white tee, grabbed my purse, and headed out. My hair was tied up with one of the many bows Pierce claimed were cute enough to melt his mafia rage. Whatever that meant.