Really Dark Humor Jokes Novels & Stories

His brother fell in love and finally became a comedian? Then Harold sent some jokes. Rhino saw the jokes and said to Calista, "Wanna hear a funny joke?" Calista was looking down and uttered,"Say." Rhino started to crack jokes. " A bear walks into a bar and says, 'Give me a whiskey and … cola.' The bartender looked at the bear and asked, 'Why is there a big pause between whiskey and cola?' The bear shrugged. 'I’m not sure; I was born with them.' " Calista smiled faintly. But her upsetness hadn't decreased even a little. Rhino was disappointed again. He told a few more jokes like this. But still Calista was not smiling. Rhino's rhythm was sweaty. It seemed to him that he was giving a big exam

I narrated with a croaky voice that definitely made me sound like a homicidal maniac. Billy's eyes opened wide as he stared at me catatonically. "Please stop!" He pleaded in fear. I laughed hard as I knew that I'd gotten him good. He sneered at me contemptuously as I mocked his discomfort. "It's not funny..." He protested. "Actually it is... Maybe you're just too nerdy, that's why your brain can't process dark humor." I shot at him. Proud of myself for successfully terrorizing him, I turned the chair around and leaned back while I watched him.

Grey warned. “Ready your coffin, Virgo,” Dark’s voice cut through, cold and final. “Dead,” Palvin said with a grin. “Farewell, you monkeys,” Grey added. “May your ugly soul find heaven,” Alfonso joked. “Amen,” Palvin said. “Boss, don’t be like that. Please. Think of the babes,” someone whimpered. “Move your a*s, three idiots. Kill the bastard with the bazooka or I will kill you all. Choose,” Dark barked.

His witty remarks, laced with sarcasm, hang in the air, momentarily lightening the heavy atmosphere of the dungeon. I engage in a brief exchange of words with Tyler, our conversation punctuated by his dry wit and dark humor. He uses jokes as a shield, deflecting the severity of our predicament. The irony isn't lost on me; while I pity his situation, he seems oddly detached, finding solace in jests even when the reality of our captivity looms over us.

At this point, I had given up already, and I was just hoping that the worst wouldn't happen. To think that I was being manhandled by this man, and none of them could ever help me. "Mere looking at her, you'd know that she is very fertile. She will definitely fill your home with plenty wolf babies." The emcee said, and they whole audience started laughing at me, again. I was just so pained. Here I was, sitting down in front of an audience of men who loved to capitalize on the weaknesses of others. The most annoying part of it was that they were actually laughing like drunk fools who had lost their minds. In all honesty, I actually didn't find anything funny in all the naughty jokes that they

But that wasn't all, I had something to say to 'Mr stupid talk'. "And you think your words make you appear funny or smart? You're just a coward." Wait a minute. Did I really just say that? Jeez. I wanted to hold back from saying more, but I couldn't. "Making fun of someone in need of help? You think you're still a kid?" I laughed humourlessly as the guy looked at me in embarrassment, and what looked like anger. "In case you're yet to realize it, you're here for a job! You're looking for a Goddamned job! You're grown already, man. Act like it." I shook my head in disbelief as everyone remained silent. Good. Just then, the dark guy walked back inside the hall where we were sitted, with another

someone yelled. "I won’t shut up until someone answers!" Lucas shouted back, clearly enjoying the attention. "We don’t know and we don’t care, so shut the hell up, Lucas!" another voice barked. "Wrong! It’s called Lemon-aid! Get it? Like the drink?" The groan this time was even louder. "Dad jokes are never, ever funny," Elodie muttered, shaking her head.

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?”

"What's going on?" I opened my mouth to deflect, to make another joke, but nothing came. The words just stuck in my throat. "I can't do it anymore," I finally said. My voice sounded strange. Small. "Can't do what?" "The jokes. The humor. The whole funny guy routine." I laughed bitterly. "Everyone expects me to make things lighter. To crack jokes when things get dark. And I've been doing it because it's easier than facing what I'm actually feeling." "Which is?"

This is the first time to see him, in a better view, but I kept my chin up and stay tough. "When someone has found himself, tied and blindfolded inside a dark room, with someone hovering over him. Look at your wrist, it's bruised. Do you really think you could trust, and just ask to go home? Silly." He smirked and took a step, making me scrunch my face in confusion as he burst out laughing. It's getting really annoying.