Sardonic Humor Novels & Stories

Then she pressed her lips together tightly. Sure, not at all her fault, actually she's not too wrong but he never felt very offended by what people say before, but she was right 'sarcasm' before maybe she didn't mean to tease spat him like that, or offend him, but he couldn't help hold up when she did tried to compare him with his job, it can turn into a lot of humiliation and reproach, maybe for her who expresses annoyance and anger by using harsh words but for him it drops his self-esteem by expressing a sharp insinuation that she has not yet understood the truth behind his attitude like other people, God … why she don’t believe him, doesn't she understand he did that just for 'her'. Ironi

Ordering the servants around. "Of course it's you, who could I be speaking to if not you? The furnitures or the roof? Or is there someone else in this to I haven't noticed?" He giggled at his sarcasm. He seemed comfortable and in a good mood. He looked interested in speaking with me, he uses sarcasm only whenever I had done something wrong and he wants to punish me. His sarcasm this time was filled with positive aura. He was speaking like this had always been the way we interact with each other.

He was substantially larger than the other two, so the way he glared down at me gave me a seriously bad vibe. "I'm sorry," I said, regaining my voice, but being careful to keep my usual sarcasm and cynicism out of it. Sardonicism was not the way to handle this situation. "Does the way I speak offend you in any way?" "You sassin' me? 'Cause the last person who sassed me and my friends got their face punched so hard, their nose looked like putty," the final goon, a black-haired, blue-eyed monstrosity, replied, his words slurred and grammatically incorrect. I looked over that fact though, thinking it wouldn't be wise if I pointed out his wrongs involving grammar.

“Because it makes you laugh?” He clicked his tongue, a smile on his face. “You finally get it.” I rolled my eyes. “But ONLY you does it make laugh. Real jokes are so funny everyone around would burst into laughter, not them crying while you’re having a blast.” “A joke is a joke.” “…Your sense of humor is rotten,” I ended up muttering, hissing as his rough fingers tugged at the bandage wrapped around my ribs. The cloth peeled away sticky and damp, and the stench of dried blood hit my nose. I fought the urge to gag.

He carped aloofly. "No?" He gave me an unamused look."Talking to you is like talking to a broken record of comebacks and sarcastic comments." "I prefer witty comments, not sarcastic." I remarked dully. "My point proven." He looked less amused with me, yet still fascinated at the same time. What could possibly be fascinating? I couldn't possibly make myself any more-irritating, frankly. "You also don't ever smile." To that, I plastered on a smile. "What is this then?"

He shouldn't! He chuckled humorlessly. "I so love the way you lie, right straight into my eyes." He said, full of sarcasm. I froze. Oh no...

Along he years of putting up with Madame Brown's antiques, I'd figured out the only way to win over her was to kill her with sarcasm. Like the saying goes, kill them with kindness, but in my case, sarcasm was the whip I'd use in lashing. Madame Browne's haunting smile deepened and she stepped further, “I'm sure you don't mind a little company, it seems you sure do need it with this tire issue.” “Tire issue?” I asked, keeping my cool. I didn't want to lash out yet, I was going to hold it all back. I made sure my tone was as sarcastic as ever, hinting that she k ew what I was talking about.

One of Vidarr's brows arches up perfectly, amusement flashing across his gaze. Of all the reactions, Soral doesn't expect him to laugh out loud, the deep sound seems to vibrate the atmosphere. Soral stares at him in confusion; he can only take it that the barbarian is not upset and that he also appears less threatening when he laughs. His teeth were pearly white, his canines appearing a bit sharper than usual, but he looked. . . handsome, in a rugged way. But why is he laughing, I've not said anything funny.

Raising my tone, just as he did, although if someone heard us talking, they would surely mistake it for a murmur. “And then you earn…how much? A hundred crores, like that takla writer, right? I really don’t know where you got those ideas from!” he had now invoked the most lethal of all linguistic weapons – sarcasm – more powerful than a thousand arrows of invectives, yelling, screaming and all those tools that one can use while making their dissatisfaction, disagreement or disapproval over something obvious. Kela and Baal hurt, but sarcasms leave serious wounds for the entire lifetime. Wounds that don’t really heal.

“There have been plenty of times I could’ve run away, gotten help, but I didn’t.” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Because I’d kill you.” “At this point, I’m trying to live as long as I can. Therefore, I don’t want to piss your psychotic ass off.” “You push my buttons constantly.” I let out a little laugh. “Yeah, but that’s fun. You make it too easy.” “Why are you such a sarcastic pain in my ass?” I shrugged. “Sarcasm is my defense mechanism, so…shut up.”