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— Mike, something… something’s not right… — he started, but his voice came out strangely high-pitched and melodic, unnaturally feminine. Jason gulped, frantically trying to move his legs, but they didn’t feel like legs anymore. Instead, he sensed something strange—cold, flexible, and fin-like—that stretched from his hips all the way down to the floor. Jason tried to stand up, but the tail was useless on land, and he only managed to slide clumsily forward, like a snake slipping across the wet floor.
— What the… hell… is this?! — he groaned, trying to grab the belt that had once held the fake tail in place, but the belt didn’t feel separate anymore. His hands distinctly felt a smooth edge where his familiar skin gave way to cold, slick scales. He ran his fingers down, realizing that his body seemed to merge into this new covering as if the tail had always been a part of him. Jason frantically tried to find some seam or fastener, but there was nothing—only a seamless transition from his waist to this strange, fish-like skin that stretched down the full length of his tail.
— Holy shit… — he whispered, his voice unnaturally high and bright, like it didn’t belong to him. Trying to grasp what was happening, he touched his chest, which was now straining painfully against the plastic shell bra.
A few of his equally drunk buddies had gathered around, clueless as to what was happening, laughing and tossing out jokes at the sight of his embarrassed, shocked expression.
— Damn, you’re really getting into character! — one of them laughed, sure this was all some kind of performance.
— Hey, let’s get this mermaid into the water! She’ll feel right at home there! — shouted another, laughing.
— Are you guys out of your f*cking minds?! — Jason shouted. He was dead sober now, like he hadn’t had a single drink, and his friends looked to him like a pack of drunken idiots. He tried to back away from them, but it was hopeless—he couldn’t just stand up, and his tail only managed a helpless skid across the floor, making him fall over onto his side. Jason thrashed, desperately trying to push his friends away, but every clumsy swipe of his tail was weak and practically useless.
— What the… hell, are you all insane?! — he yelled, his voice coming out in that same high, almost girlish pitch that earned zero respect from his half-drunk friends.
— Ah, come on, girl! You gotta get in the water, can’t you see? — one of the guys said with drunk determination, gripping him by the shoulders and hauling him toward the back door, where the yard and pool lay waiting. Jason tried to dig himself into the floor, shivers running through his whole body at the mere thought of the cold water. But his buddies, only more amused by his “performance,” were fired up by his struggle.
— No! Stop, I’m serious! This isn’t a joke, get off me! — he screamed, looking over at Monica, who was standing nearby, looking confused and uneasy. — Monica, can you even see what’s happening to me?!
Monica’s glass slipped from her hands, her eyes wide, frozen in shock as she watched the crowd of drunken guys toss Jason right into the pool.