The morning mist in the swamp was thick enough to chew on, just the way liked it. He had just finished his daily routine of painting "KEEP OUT" signs when a frantic knocking at his front door—a hollowed-out tree trunk—interrupted his peace.
Donkey didn't stop. He was vibrating with excitement. "It’s worse than fire! It’s... it’s a ! They’ve put up a sign by the road. 'Visit the Magic Swamp: Home of the Heroic Ogre.' There’s a line of wagons a mile long, and they’ve all got cameras and souvenir hats!" shreak
Shrek swung the door open, his massive green frame filling the frame. "Donkey, I’ve told you. Unless the swamp is on fire or someone’s giving away free onion-flavored waffles, don’t knock before noon." The morning mist in the swamp was thick
"I’m not a hero," Shrek growled, his voice low. "I’m an ogre. I’m supposed to be feared, not... marketed ." He was vibrating with excitement
Shrek knew what he had to do. He didn't need a sword or a dragon this time—he needed to be his most "unpleasant" self.