Potter Jokes Novels & Stories

One said that we owed millions of dollars in debt, another claimed Mom had a terminal illness, and some even said Dad was being chased by debt collectors and was going to jump off a building. These completely false rumors spread wildly across the Internet, becoming more and more outrageous. Just then, the doorbell rang. Mom went to open the door and found our neighbor, Linda Parker, standing outside. "Your family is really famous now," Linda said, her tone hard to read. "I just ran into several reporters on my way back. They were all asking about your family's situation. Some even asked me if you're really that poor and whether you're drowning in debt." Mom hurried to explain, "All that stuf

“I thought it was rather punny.” I let out a low, frustrated groan. “Wonderful. I have to deal with two men who like cringe jokes,” I complain unhappily. Why can’t men tell normal jokes for a change? Do they all have to be dad-jokes? As soon as I spot Jay finally coming around the corner, I follow along and wait for him to notice the Sorcerer next to us. Jay gives me a confused look, then shifts his attention to Bucky. As the two of us meet up with Jay at the cabin, Jay asks, “is this lunch or the Sorcerer?”

Harrison clears his throat loudly and crosses his arms over his chest. “Excuse me?” He demands indignantly. “What?” I ask, as innocently as I can. It’s not like anyone will believe it but I may as well mess with Harrison a little bit. “Have you been experimenting with untested potions on me?” He asks. I’m fairly sure he’s pretending he didn’t realise. Surely he didn’t think that I just happened to keep a potion designed to make an Incubus able to speak just sitting around. Right? Continuing the joke, I answer him.

Life’s so unfair, man. “What does a spoon matter when we’re literally stuck in the middle of the woods with invisible monsters, shady, bad men and whatever else creeps around here? Can you please, for once, use your brain and kick some sense in the gear?” He whisper-hisses, so red in the face, he reminds me of a tomato. “You could join a casting for vegetable commercials looking like this,” I remark and laugh at the brilliant joke my brain just reacted. Shit, am I not the funniest guy out there? Look at me - sense of humor, looks, body and an impressive spoon collection, I have it all, damn it. No wonder my little vixen couldn’t deny me.

“That was... something.” He didn’t even flinch. “Tough crowd,” he muttered under his breath. Tough crowd? Was this a boardroom or open mic night? --- Then came the coffee break. I’d barely made it to the break room when he cornered me with another one of his “brilliant” jokes. “What do you call a sad cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. Against my better judgment, I played along. “What?” “A depresso.”

"Okay! Okay! I will stop, but that joke of yours isn't good. Aren't there any more funny jokes?" I sat down next to Shin again. "I still have a lot of jokes," I replied. "Okay let me hear," "Here is a knock-knock joke. Knock-knock," - Me. "Who's there?" - Shin. "Tank," - Me. "Tank, who?" - Shin. "You're welcome!" Shin and I both poker-faced to that joke at the same time so I immediately drew a long line on it. "Knock! Knock!" - Me.

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?”

“He’s a ten but… he kisses his BMW goodnight every night.” Terri chuckled and gestured toward a tall, gangly guy with oversized glasses. “He’s a ten but… he says, ‘That’s all folks!’ after every joke he tells.” We both doubled over in laughter. I pointed at a shorter guy in a bright, colorful sweatshirt. “He’s a ten but… he writes erotic Dora the Explorer fan fiction.” Terri nearly choked on her drink. When she looked up she said, “He’s a ten but… he’s not potty-trained,” motioning toward a guy in JNCO jeans.

Suddenly, not only did Caspian reveal a strange look, but also many of his fellow disciples behind him couldn't help laughing. For a moment, the scene was filled with happy air. David Poter was furious and kept jumping. But there was no other way at the moment. After all, he said it himself. Looking at David Poter, who was like a monkey, Jessica couldn't help but put her hand on her forehead. "Why is this group of fellow disciples so disappointing?" "Don't laugh. Shut up! Shut up!" David Poter jumped up and down. "Who are you laughing at? Didn't you see that it was Casper Montgomery standing above?

"Gossiping with a teapot? Now, that's a story I need to hear!" I launched into the tale, mimicking the teapot's animated voice. "So, there I was, sipping tea with the Mad Hatter and the March Hare, when the teapot leaned in and whispered, 'Psst! Have you heard about the Queen of Hearts and her secret knitting obsession?'" Sophie burst into laughter, the sound filling the room with joy. "No way! The Queen of Hearts and knitting? That's brilliant!" We giggled uncontrollably, imagining the Queen of Hearts surrounded by piles of knitted hats and scarves. As our laughter subsided, Sophie wiped away a tear of mirth from her eye.