There Are Three Types of People

𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝

As the sun rose over Gloomsville, casting an eerie red glow through the lingering cube-shaped clouds, Mortimer "Morty" Blunderbuss, Prudence "Prude" Pumpernickel, and Chuckles McGee found themselves facing yet another bizarre morning. The cube invasion had been thwarted, but the town was far from returning to normal—if such a thing even existed in Gloomsville.

"Well, that was quite the dance party," Prude sighed, adjusting her glasses as she surveyed the debris-strewn streets. "I suppose we should start helping with the cleanup efforts."

Morty nodded enthusiastically, already bending down to pick up a tiny cube that was still weakly playing "The Chicken Dance." "Yeah! Maybe we can reprogram these little guys to help us clean up!"

Chuckles, who was leaning casually against a lamppost, grinned. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about cleanup, folks. I have a feeling we're about to have our hands full with something else entirely."

Before Prude could question what he meant, a strange, viscous substance began oozing from a nearby storm drain. It was a sickly, pulsating mass that seemed to breathe and grow with each passing second.

"What in the name of scientific inquiry is that?" Prude gasped, her eyes widening as she watched the substance spread across the pavement.

Morty, who had been about to pocket his new cube friend, dropped it in surprise. "Whoa! Is that... is that strawberry jam come to life?"

Chuckles chuckled, poking the substance with a stick he'd procured from nowhere. "Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a good old-fashioned blob invasion! How delightfully retro."

The substance, now roughly the size of a small car, began to pulsate more rapidly. Suddenly, tendrils shot out from its mass, latching onto a nearby fire hydrant. To their horror, the hydrant began to change, its metal surface becoming fleshy and sprouting dozens of blinking eyes.

"This is impossible," Prude muttered, her logical mind struggling to process what she was seeing. "Inorganic matter can't just transform into organic tissue like that!"

"Tell that to the eyeball hydrant," Morty replied, his voice a mix of fascination and terror.

As they watched, more tendrils shot out from the growing mass, attaching to buildings, vehicles, and even the remaining cubes from their previous adventure. Everything the substance touched began to transform, becoming a grotesque fusion of flesh, metal, and pulsating tissue.

"Well, folks," Chuckles said, addressing no one in particular, "looks like we've stumbled into a real fleshy situation here. I'd say we're in for quite the eye-opening experience!" He winked at an unseen audience, clearly amused by his own puns.

Prude, ever the voice of reason, tried to formulate a plan. "We need to contain this... whatever it is. If it continues to spread, it could infect the entire town!"

As if on cue, a group of townspeople rounded the corner, stopping short at the sight of the growing fleshy mass. Before anyone could warn them, tendrils shot out, latching onto several unfortunate citizens.

"Oh no," Morty whimpered, watching in horror as the infected people began to change. Their skin became mottled and bloody, eyes sprouting across their bodies like macabre flowers.

"Fascinating," Prude murmured, her scientific curiosity momentarily overriding her fear. "It seems to be altering their genetic structure at an impossible rate. But how?"

Chuckles, who had somehow acquired a pair of sunglasses and was now wearing them despite the overcast sky, grinned. "You know, I once read a book about a disease that could infect anything. Didn't think I'd be living it, though. Talk about immersive storytelling!"