The water-nymph frowns. "Are you sure you're not here for my singing?"

You nod.

Her brow furrows even deeper. "You're absolutely sure?"

You nod once more.

"Hmph!" fumes the water-nymph. "Well, it's not like I wanted to sing for you, anyways!" She scoops up some emerald-blue water in her hand and flings it at you, before descending back into the water. The water spout, too, sinks back into the lake without a ripple.

You stare at the lake a while in bemusement, then shrug your shoulders.
And notice that your arms are a great deal shorter than they used to be.

In fact, they hardly look like arms at all. More like... flippers. And it seems that your legs won't bend the way you want them to. Alarmed, you inch your way to the water to see your reflection...

.

.

.

It would appear that the water-nymph has metamorphosed you. You wriggle your way into the surprisingly warm, soothing water, and ponder your predicament.

On one flipper, it could be weeks before a suitable princess comes to kiss you and turn you back to your rightful form.
On the other flipper, you are now a manatee in a lovely blue-green lake teeming with phytoplankton and plant life.

All in all, things could be a great deal worse.