As I meandered along the sandy shores with my trusty metal detector in hand, I stumbled upon a crater-sized hole that could've doubled as a small swimming pool. I chuckled to myself, imagining the poor soul who must've thought they struck gold, or at least a rusty nail. With a mischievous grin, I approached the excavation site and found a fellow enthusiast, beads of sweat dripping down their forehead as they wielded their bargain-bin detector like a treasure-seeking divining rod.
"Whatcha got there?" I quipped, already sensing the punchline.
"There's a jackpot waiting down yonder," they exclaimed with unwavering conviction.
Humoring them, I waved my own detector over the pit, only to be met with the eerie silence of disappointment. With a theatrical flourish, I produced a quarter from my pocket and tossed it into the abyss. Suddenly, my detector erupted into a cacophony of beeps and boops, as if celebrating the discovery of El Dorado itself.
The look of disbelief on their face was priceless. "You see," I declared with a sage nod, "it's all about quality over quantity. You dig? And remember, in the world of metal detecting, leaving craters is a no-go. We're treasure hunters, not lunar explorers!" With a wink and a nod, I sauntered off, leaving them to contemplate the cost of cutting corners in the pursuit of buried treasure.
View attachment 2132740