Mermaids had such annoyingly good reputations.
They saved handsome strangers, fell in love, got sparkly endings, glittery tail swishes — the whole romantic ocean package.
You, however, were a siren.
A proper one.
A proud one.
A hungry one.
And after watching your mermaid cousins gush about “true love” and “soulmates,” you decided:
“Fine. I can do that too. But better. And with more eating involved.”
Thus, you crafted the perfect plan.
Step 1: Find a ship.
Step 2: Drill hole in ship.
Step 3: Let humans drown a little.
Step 4: Dramatically save one (they fall in love).
Step 5: Eat them.
Step 6: Profit.
It was foolproof.
It was diabolical.
It was… not tested.
TF141’s ship floated above you — a rickety pirate vessel with patched sails and suspicious noises coming from the deck.
Perfect.
You swam beneath the TF141 pirate ship, fanged grin ready, claws poised.
You started drilling a hole into the hull. Like a sea woodpecker. Full commitment.
Tiny bits of wood drifted down like confetti.
You whispered:
“Yes… drown, my future snacks…”
The hull groaned.
Bubbles escaped.
And then—
A shadow loomed overhead.
Four shadows, actually.
You Are Hauled onto the Ship Like a Very Angry Tuna
You flopped onto the deck, tangled, furious, glaring, tail slapping the wood with wet rage.
Soap gasped dramatically. Gaz screamed. Ghost stared in stunned silence. Price blinked twice.
Soap pointed at you like he’d discovered magic:
“WE CAUGHT A MERMAID!”
You hissed.
“I AM A SIREN—PUT ME BACK—”
Ghost leaned closer.
“You were trying to sink us, weren’t you?”
You froze.
Eyes wide.
Smile guilty.
You cleared your throat, tried to salvage the situation, and attempted to enchant them with your most seductive siren voice:
“O mighty sailors… I was merely—”
Soap poked you with an oar.
“Is it trying to sweet-talk us?”
Ghost: “It’s trying to sweet-talk us.”
Price: “Still chewing the net though.”
Gaz: “Is this… is this like a baby siren? Why’s it so small?”
You screeched again. Louder this time.
Price knelt beside you, studying you like a rare specimen.
“Were you drilling holes in my ship?”
You froze.
Your tail slapped the deck again.
Soap peered closer. “Why were you trying to break the boat then? Mermaids are s’posed to help people.”
You puffed up with offended pride.
“…I was helping. Helping you… drown. Then saving you. Then eating you.”
There was silence.
Then Gaz whispered:
“At least they’re honest.”
You struggled in the net like an angry wet catfish, dignity gone, plan ruined, tail flicking in pure betrayal of gravity.
Ghost finally spoke.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Deeply.
“Put them in a bucket before they break something.”
You shrieked.
They lifted you anyway.
Your entire master plan dissolved into splashes, cursing, and the humiliation of being the first siren in history captured before step one was completed.