Madison Warner Fairbanks

“There’s a dead Mermaid on the beach and yarr two eejits are gonna stand here and call each other boogers and rectums?” The Crab made an excellent observation. Was Ariel dead? My entire world tilted on its axis for a brief moment and I wanted to destroy something. Was Kurt insane? Wait. Did I really talk about Ariel in my sleep? Was my brother so hungry he was seeing things? Was Ariel really on the beach? All of a sudden tomorrow didn’t appeal if Ariel wasn’t in this world anymore. I didn’t even care if she’d come to lop my Johnson off. As long as she was okay, I would be fine and I was a fast runner. I could dodge a sword aimed at my jewels any day of the week. “Get out of my way,” I roared, shoving Pirate Sven and Kurt to the side as I tore out of the house. If Ariel was on my beach I needed to save her. I had no clue if my fucking gift could save Mermaids, but that gorgeous blue haired Mermaid was mine—violent Johnson lopping tendencies and all.