So there I was, minding my business, singing with my pet eels, and you came to me all like, “Oh, I want legs and I want to be part of that world and I want to run, not swim.”
Do you know how selfish you sounded?
Despite that, however, I gave you legs, risking your daddy’s fury on me, and all I asked for in return was your pretty singing voice.
Okay, so I wanted you to fail with the cute guy so I could have you as a slave. But it wouldn’t have been for long. I was going to trade you back to your daddy in exchange for his kingdom. Excuse me for showing a little ambition.
But you couldn’t let me have that, could you? You couldn’t allow me my happy ending, could you? No! You had to have the guy! You had to have everything and screw everyone else. Seriously, you’re the bitch diva, not me, and I’m sure any impartial observer would agree with that.
And no, the annoying, singing crab does not count as an impartial observer.
Honestly, you made a fair trade and then went back on it after I made a play for the guy in a valiant attempt to save you from him. And you did require saving, darling. I mean, what kind of a bonehead falls in love with a girl and commits to marrying her just because of her singing voice? For all he knew, I could’ve been some psychopathic killer, and he was going to marry me solely because I can finish in the Top 10 on American Idol?
I only wanted to keep you from making the dreadful mistake of entering into a clearly hellish future with that guy. And how do you repay me for all of my selfless efforts? You allow him to stab me with a splintered bowsprit.
See if I ever help you again.
Oh, and one more thing. About the guy, he’ll eventually leave you for Carrie Underwood, darling. Just watch.