Nathan Irons, paranormal investigator

The moment his foot stepped out of his dad's pickup truck, parked diagonally to the border of the beach and the clearing the beach was in, it landed on the fine white sand so iconic of California's beaches. No one was here. No one in their right mind would go to a cursed beach.
But Nathan Irons wasn't no one. And he certainy wasn't in his right mind.

According to his forums, way back in the 1800s when rumours of gold circulated the prospector community, people gathered on the beaches in droves to get their ticket on nature's lottery. The natives didn't care for being shove off their ancestral land, so they fought back; but the golddiggers had guns, and that particular quality of **** craziness that comes with the compulsion to drive across half the continent to look for sparkly grains of sand on the beach.
One day the golddiggers lost their minds. They attacked each other for no reason and began doing obscene things to one another. When the time was right it became known this place had been cursed by the natives; a curse that could only be lifted once the settlers returned everything they had taken from the land, and never returned.

So the beach remained cursed even to this day, and though it may appear as the ideal spot for your leisurely beach activities, no one ever visited this place. Most had forgotten it existed. Those that didn't were wise enough to heed the warnings of their forefathers and stave off obvious dangers.
Then there were people like Nathan Irons, who lived to explore what remains unknown...

... and whoever decided to park their towel and parasol on the beach and take a swim.
Nathan picked up the his phone and turned on the camera, scanning the sea and soon found an athletic looking woman with light skin and long blonde hair swimmng out amongst the waves, with a wooden sign in front of her.
"Hey!" He yelled out to the woman, "I'm the person least fit to give advice on surfing, but aren't you supposed to be standing on the board?"
"Shut the fuck up!" She yelled back, "I just can't seem to drop this thing is all!"
"Glued your hands to a wooden board? I know something about that! Why don't you let Nathan Irons take a look?"
"I'm fine, really." Elin had no intentions on involving anyone else in this less than hilarious prank.
"You're talking to Nathan Irons, the man who has glued his hands to all manner of things. Wooden boards, telephone poles, chickens... you name it. If there's anyone who can help you... it's Nathan Irons." Nathan pulled his rainbow suspenders, which snapped back to his chest, making him whince slightly in pain.
"I'm fine really." Elin sounded slightly more annoyed.

Nathan immediately got suspicious of her ****. If her hands were really stuck to that thing, she wouldn't be able to get dressed after she is done. She wouldn't be able to drive her car either. Really she would be begging Nathan Irons for help in a situation like that. Instead she's just swimming around with the board as if it was nothing.
Nathan holds his phone up and zooms in on the board to get a closer look.
"Warning..." he reads up, "Sexual predator and pervert..:"
"Hey! What the hell!" Elin yelled, "Put that phone the hell away! And delete that video!"
"Sorry, maam. Deleting the video won't delete the truth... and the truth is all I'm after." Nathan has been a paranormal investigator for a long time. He had learned that the truth can be ambivalent. Sometimes the truth is printed in big bold letters on a sign held by a beautiful woman. Other times, it's written in prints too small for the camera resolution to capture from this distance, like the text explaining what'll happen if you get within six feet of her.

Nathan's prominent girth did little to add a sense of robustness to his appearance, nor detract from hs cuteness. He was more than a little overweight, but since his handsome features remained, his fair chestnut hair remained well-kept with minimum effort and he generally radiated an aura of confidence and myctique regardless of where he was; he could be considered well above average in appearance. How desirable he would be after he opened his mouth however was another discussion entirely. He was currently wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves under rainbow suspenders that held up striped gray trousers. He was always looking for an excuse to wear sandals, and he most certainly could do worse than 'going to do beach.

The woman had enough, and was walking up to the beach.
"Look, what part of 'scram' don't you understand?" She said, "This is my first leave in one and a half years. I just want to enjoy it while it lasts without anyone making fun of my unfortunate predicament. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"I wasn't making fun of you maam." Nathan Irons shot her his trademarked reassuring smile.
"You... okay?"
"No, maam. The name's Nathan Irons, paranormal investigator. I'm only interested in the facts themselves, and what they can tell you about the Truth.... that's Truth with a capital T by the way. Just one, and a lowercase one too. Whether they are funny or sad doesn't concern me in the slightest."
Elin sighed in relief and greeted Nathan with a thankful smile, "I... thanks. I didn't want to pick up this sign, or hold it up for everyone to see. It just sort of got stuck in my hands, and now I can't remove it no matter what I do." Elin now felt confident holding up the sign for Nathan.
"Lots of curious events happens in the course of a single lifetime, maam. You need to own it up, accept that you are part of the great symphony of the cosmos. If other people think that's funny or embarrassing... that's their problem really. It doesn't matter if they think you will..." He moved closer and leaned in to read the fine print of the sign, "Attack and ****."

And with that Elin bonked him over the head with the sign.