There Are Three Types of People

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As the sun rose over Gloomsville, casting an eerie orange glow through the perpetual fog, Mortimer "Morty" Blunderbuss, Prudence "Prude" Pumpernickel, and Chuckles McGee found themselves trudging back into town after their swamp adventure. Little did they know that their day was about to take a turn for the bizarre.

"I can't believe we didn't find that flower," Morty grumbled, picking bits of swamp moss out of his hair.

Prude sighed, adjusting her mud-caked glasses. "Morty, I'm pretty sure that flower doesn't actually exist. It was probably just another urban legend."

Chuckles grinned, walking backward in front of them. "Oh, come on! Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, we've got plenty more chapters—I mean, adventures—ahead of us!"

As they rounded the corner onto Main Street, they stopped dead in their tracks. The town was in chaos. People were running and screaming, cars were overturned, and strange, metallic objects littered the ground.

"What in the world?" Prude gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Morty squinted at the scene before them. "Is it just me, or do those look like... giant ants?"

Sure enough, marching down the street in perfect formation was an army of enormous, metallic ants. Each one was the size of a small car, with glowing green eyes and razor-sharp mandibles.

Chuckles let out a low whistle. "Well, folks, looks like we've got ourselves an alien ant invasion. Didn't see that one coming, did you?" He winked at an unseen audience.

"This is impossible," Prude muttered, her logical mind struggling to process the scene before her. "Ants can't grow to that size. The square-cube law—"

"I don't think these ants care much about Earth physics, Prude," Morty interrupted, backing away slowly. "Maybe we should, you know, run?"

As if on cue, one of the giant ants turned its head towards them, its antennae twitching menacingly.

"Run!" Prude shouted, grabbing Morty's arm and sprinting down the nearest alley.

Chuckles, however, remained rooted to the spot, grinning at the approaching ant. "Hey there, big guy! You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a good exterminator, would you?"

The ant lunged forward, its mandibles snapping at the air where Chuckles had been standing just a moment before. But Chuckles had already sidestepped the attack with impossible grace.

"Whoa, easy there! I was just asking for directions!" He laughed, dancing away from another swipe. "You know, folks, I'm starting to think these ants aren't very friendly!"

Prude, who had paused at the end of the alley to look back, called out in exasperation, "Chuckles, stop taunting the alien ants and get over here!"

"Oh, alright," Chuckles sighed dramatically. "But I was just getting to the good part!" He jogged over to join them, completely unfazed by the army of ants now marching in their direction.

As they ran through the winding back alleys of Gloomsville, the sound of metallic legs skittering on pavement echoed all around them. Prude's mind raced, trying to formulate a plan.

"We need to find somewhere safe," she panted. "Somewhere those things can't get to us."

Morty's face lit up. "Oh! I know! We could hide in the old clock tower! It's tall and has lots of small spaces we could squeeze into!"

Prude nodded, impressed by Morty's rare moment of logical thinking. "That's actually not a bad idea. Good thinking, Morty!"

"Thanks!" Morty beamed. "And if we get cornered, we can always jump off the top and hope we land on something soft!"