The crab scuttles aimlessly across the wide open beach.
His icy blood is warmed by the harsh sun.
He snaps his claws together with bitter anguish, wishing for a more dexterous tool. A crustaceous Edward Scissorhands, his handshakes are never appreciated.
He was always bumping in to people in the street because he insisted on walking sideways and after all this stress, if things went badly, he might end up in one of those restaurant tanks like his cousin Barry.
It was a tough life.
At least there was always a castle to visit if he got bored…