There Are Three Types of People

uno dos TRE (real dis tim)

As the first rays of dawn crept over Gloomsville, Mortimer "Morty" Blunderbuss, Prudence "Prude" Pumpernickel, and Chuckles McGee found themselves trudging through the town's infamous swamp. The air was thick with the stench of decay and the promise of yet another misadventure.

"Remind me again why we're out here at this ungodly hour?" Prude grumbled, swatting away mosquitoes the size of small birds.

Morty, who was leading the way with all the confidence of a blindfolded lemming, replied cheerfully, "We're looking for that rare flower, remember? The one that only blooms once every hundred years and supposedly grants eternal youth!"

"Ah yes, because that's exactly what we need after nearly being murdered by a rubber chicken-wielding maniac," Prude muttered under her breath.

Chuckles, bringing up the rear with a spring in his step that seemed entirely out of place in their current predicament, chimed in, "Oh come on, folks! Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, we've got plenty of time for more shenanigans. Trust me on this one."

He winked at no one in particular, as if sharing an inside joke with an unseen audience.

As they ventured deeper into the swamp, the fog grew thicker, obscuring their vision and muffling the sounds around them. Prude's logical mind was on high alert, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger.

"We should be careful," she warned. "This fog could be hiding all sorts of hazards."

Morty nodded enthusiastically. "You're right! We should split up to cover more ground!"

Prude's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Morty, that's literally the worst idea you could have right now. Have you learned nothing from our previous encounters?"

"But think about it," Morty insisted, his eyes shining with misplaced excitement. "If we split up, we'll find that flower three times faster!"

Before Prude could argue further, a low, guttural growl echoed through the swamp, causing all three of them to freeze in their tracks.

"What was that?" Prude whispered, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her flashlight.

Morty's eyes widened comically. "Maybe it's just a really big frog?"

Chuckles laughed, seemingly unconcerned by the ominous sound. "Or maybe it's our new best friend! Hey there, Mr. Growly! Care to join us on our little adventure?"

As if in response to Chuckles' invitation, the growl intensified, and the sound of something large moving through the water reached their ears.

"We need to get out of here," Prude said urgently, already backing away. "Now."

But before they could make their escape, a massive, slimy tentacle burst from the murky water, followed by the emergence of a nightmarish creature. It towered over them, its body a writhing mass of tentacles and teeth, with glowing red eyes that fixed hungrily on the trio.

"Oh look, it's hideous!" Morty exclaimed, sounding more fascinated than terrified. "I wonder if it's friendly?"

Prude grabbed Morty's arm and started pulling him away. "Morty, that thing is clearly not friendly! It looks like it wants to eat us!"

The creature let out a bone-chilling roar and lunged forward, its tentacles reaching for them with alarming speed.

"Run!" Prude shouted, dragging Morty along as she sprinted in the opposite direction.

Chuckles, however, remained rooted to the spot, grinning up at the monster. "Now, now, big fella. I know you're probably hungry, but we're not on the menu today. You see, we've got a long way to go yet."