Before we get to Ursula, let’s look at the inciting incident. Ariel, who is obsessed with a forbidden world, watches Prince Eric one evening, saves his life during a storm, then spends time pining for him in the form of object association and statue worship. For fuck’s sake, she has a shrine. Digest that for a second: this 16-year-old girl basically stalks a guy from across the room at a party and decides that she’s in love with him beyond the shadow of reason, despite that he doesn’t know her name and can’t really recall identifying physical details about her. There’s also the whole matter of not knowing his hopes, dreams, personality, goals, and so forth, but she’s convinced that this dreamboat will fulfill all of her life goals. She’s not off to a great start here. Top it off with the fact that she has an overbearing father that’s pretty much a human racist who assigns her a full-time babysitter, and the recipe for sneaking out of the house to hook up with the cute guy is locked and loaded. All that she needs is a ride to the surface, which she gets in the form of exiled sea witch Ursula.

Here’s the thing about Ursula: while not entirely honest, girlfriend does work within the letter of the law to achieve her ends, and that deserves at least some respect. She picks a mark for an easy sale, and she’s goal-oriented. While we may hate her, she’s got game and maneuvers within the system. She waits to send an envoy to Ariel until after a massive fight with her dad, then presents a contract to her: the chance to get that she wants (Eric), within a specified time frame (three days) and a valid form of payment (the ability to talk). Now here’s the thing: Ariel has Sebastian there to tell her no, it’s not a good idea. Sebastian is working as the good friend that tries to provide the sobering bitch slap she needs, but, true to autonomy, Ariel doesn’t have time for that shit. She’s got her eyes on the prize, and it’s Eric. Girl is too dickmatized to think straight, and it causes her to sign away her voice for the chance to hop on that. Here’s the beauty of that deal, though: without her voice to give her away, Eric has to get to know Ariel (THE HORROR) and decide if he wants to kiss her, regardless of whether or not she fits this oddball notion of being his savior and therefore his perfect woman. Ultimately, this is a bit of a favor – I mean, who wants to be the chick that you wind up with by default because she saved you from drowning? That’s setting her up for being an object of idealization and infatuation rather than having value as a person, and those types of scenarios – as romantic as they are on paper – do not last long in real life. Like it or not, Ursula’s harsh conditions essentially tell the kid that she has to see if this is real in order for it to stick; it’s a test drive before the wedding, which isn’t a bad idea. If I married everyone I ever built up in my head, who knows what number divorce I’d be on. Now, is Ursula entirely innocent in terms of letting everything play out? Nope, but then again, Ursula has a business to run, and of course she’s going to try to throw the game in her favor. She’s basically functioning like a bank that’s waiting for you to miss a payment on your car; we don’t like it, but then again, it’s a matter or personal responsibility if you start trying to live a life you can’t afford. And miss a payment she does. The sun sets without that kiss, and Ariel’s ass belongs to Ursula. And how does that play out? The whining and crying girl’s father shows up to explain that the rules don’t apply to her. Daddy, true to form, demands that the contract be broken so that his little girl doesn’t have to suffer; after all, he’s the king, and his little princess should be allowed to mess up without consequences.

This is where I stop rooting for Ariel, because she and her dad are the perfect entitled brat/helicopter parent combo that we all loathe and fear. Like it or not, Ariel signed a contract. She was explicitly informed of its terms, and even if they were ridiculous and stacked against her, she still decided to gamble. Ariel made a poor decision, and legally, she had to pay the piper on this one. Her father’s response – rather than letting her learn the hard lesson of responsibility and legal binding – is to attempt to destroy the contract. Triton tries to get her out of trouble because he doesn’t want his little princess to reap the consequences of her actions. And that should piss us off, because it implies that these two think that the rules don’t apply to them. Just like that, we have a case of undersea affluenza, and it’s annoying as fuck. We don’t cheer for people like that. Really, why should we? We all knew that if it was us, the rules would apply. We’d lose our house or our car, while the rich girl gets bailed out. She’s royalty – she has enough going for her already. You know what would have been a kinder, more real-world lesson? If Ariel had to work off her debt. If she had to suffer the consequences. Because we all know at least one kid who grows up to be an absolute monster that stamps her feet, demands the best and refuses to work for it. In fact, you’ve probably attended at least one of those weddings this seasons alone.

Ursula is well within her rights to tell Triton, “The contract’s legal, binding and completely unbreakable. Even for you.” Not even a king can toss his weight around, making her contract the great equalizer. Like it or not, this should comfort us. The wealthy shouldn’t get special treatment and be absolved of legal respsonsibilities because of who they are or worse, who their parents are. So that leaves us in a pinch: do we root for the obnoxious, psychologically unhealthy teenager and her pain-in-the-ass dad, or do we cheer on the cutthroat bitch that uses the system to get what she wants? I, for one, am in the cutthroat bitch camp.