Ariana stared at ....Harold (she was going to have to get used to calling a cangrejo a self-given name) for a quick moment. Then she burst out laughing.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay, no seriously." She said, laughing hysterically. She clutched her sides and continued to laugh, almost to the point of mania.
But Harold stared at her, dead-pan. "I'm serious, Ariana. You're a mermaid, and I can pr-"
"Stop it." Ariana said, still laughing, but a suprising stab of anger cut her laughter short. She began to look around her, bending down, peeking under the boardwalk. She stood back up.
"Okay, where are the hidden cameras?"
Harold began to look worried. He raised one claw and scratched his forehead. "Hidden cameras? There's no hidd-"
"The fuck there's no hidden cameras!" Ariana's tone suddenly took a dramatic turn. Rage was boiling up inside her, about to spill over like hot syrup on a plate. "Look, I sort of believed tu when tu started talking to me. I really thought tu were a talking crab. But now you're telling me I'm a mermaid? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT?!" Ariana threw her hands up in exasperation. Tears stung the corner of her eyes. She knew, somehow, inwardly, that Harold was telling the truth. But she just couldn't accept it. She just couldn't. The world around her began to spin. She felt dizzy. She felt like she was going to throw up. She clutched her stomach and heaved. A blur of lights swirled around her. Ariana clutched the railing on the side of the boardwalk.
"Are tu okay? Ariana?" Harold's voice was filled with worry.
"Please....please don't talk to me." Ariana choked out. The wood underneath her palms scratched the surface of her skin because of how hard she was gripping it. The corner of the wood dug into the creases of the pad of the base of her thumb. But somehow, the pain was nothing.