Sardonic Humor Novels & Stories

The man marched up to me and, to my surprise, burst into a peal of mocking laughter. Did you hear her, men? She is very thirsty. I think we should give her some water, isn't it? His sarcasm dripped off every word he uttered. They cheered loudly like cavemen, clamouring for some action. He left my side briefly and returned with a small bowl filled with liquid.

I let out a sarcastic smile, “have fun inhaling carbon dioxide there.” With that, they burst out laughing. “We really need to think ways to put some humor inside your brain!” Ave exclaimed, still laughing. I pursed my lips. “I don’t need that.” “As expected from you,” Rebel chuckled. I roll my eyes heavenwards. I don’t need some humor. A bitter smile placed against my lips. I only need someone who’ll save me from this hell. “How about this?” “Your showing too much skin.” “This one?” “Too short.”

Asshole confirmation is complete. “I do have a unique sense of humor,” I snarl back at him. “It’s just not for rude people who think they can negatively summarize everything about a person just by looking at them.” He scoffs and silently stares at me for a moment. While I wait, thinking he is probably forming an apology for his rude, sarcastic sense of humor towards me. . . . he suddenly bursts into laughter. I recoil in shock at his response, but later on, his laughter eases me. The sound is so deep, and dimples indent both his cheeks as he continues laughing.

He told me pointedly, laughing at me like a clown. “You don’t mince words, do you?” I asked in a sarcastic tone, smirking at him. He laughed at me, obviously enjoying himself at my expense. I could already tell that we are going to be great friends in the future. I think I like his humor, I like the fact that he doesn’t try to please or displease anyone. He speaks the truth and damns the consequences. That’s the type of guy that’s the kind of people I love to have around me.

Another round of grumble blessed my ears and when the complaining words ended with that tone of annoyance mixed with sarcasm, I cracked up again and harder. “Emotional and you?? Good joke.” I laughed while holding my stomach. “Haha, very funny…” sarcasm dropped off the words as N spoke. “I know, right!!” I teased, breathing between the good laugh I have Suddenly a thought surrounded my mind and I couldn’t help but smile only at some memories that were similar to this and certainly were the best of the times of my life. Remembering the good old days when such banter was more often… when laughing and jesting was the most common thing between us. I was pulled out of our halcyon memories when N

How could he even be so annoying? "Haha, very funny" I said sarcastically as his chuckle persisted. "Alright man, chill out. I was just fucking with you" he said as he forced himself to stop laughing, "Of course you're dashing man. You don't have to take everything so seriously" he said. " Of course I wasn't taking it seriously" I said as I regained my morale, " I already know what a fine man I am. I certainly don't need your approva....... "

, Adrian said, looking depressed and annoyed, with the whole body language of a beaten man. "Mrs. Question," he called me, his voice dripping with sarcasm, frustration, and humor married into one split-second brush. I couldn't really help laughing, each sound like a mighty riffle pouring out of me, my whole body shaking with mirth as I considered the sheer absurdity of the situation. Adrian's plans had been thwarted, and I had escaped for the time being! With a few deep gulps of sober air, I looked up at Adrian, a slow smile still on my face.

It was a sound completely devoid of humor - harsh, bitter, and slightly unhinged. The laughter echoed through the empty apartment, bouncing off bare walls and creating an eerie, hollow effect. "Good," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and pain. "Very good, Aria. You're really something special, aren't you?"

“At least you’re honest.” “I don’t make a habit of pretending otherwise.” He stared at me for a second before looking away. “Enjoy your night out?” “Yes.” “That’s nice.” The sarcasm was obvious. I stepped closer. “Something wrong?” “No.” “You’re a poor liar.” He let out a short breath. “I’m just tired.” “That’s not the issue.” He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “stop acting like you know too much." “Its not an act I actually do.”

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.