They call me, “Cock Ness”, for a reason. I ain’t your average sea monster. I don’t swim about hunting krill or great whites. Mere child’s play. I’m too busy splitting Killer Whale’s in half with my member and snacking on Scottish fisherman when I’m bored. I once tried to eat a guy whole, but decided to sample his legs. When I got wind he was talkin’ smack about surviving, I made sure him and his crew got clipped for good. Imma Loch Ness Monster bitches, no one’s gonna touch me.
Of course, I got mad respect for those fools that spend their entire lives looking for me. Yeah I still eat em–but I do so respectfully (use your imagination). For the most part though, people stay out of my lake. All I ever really wanted was to enjoy a life of luxury and peace at the bottom of a European lake. It wasn’t until people had to start trollin’ my waters for who-knows-what did I have to get angry. Really, I’m a nice sea monster. I enjoy Plato and Aristotle as much as the next fish. It’s a relaxed, intelligent, free-loving world down here.
Which brings me to the main issue at hand. I know you wanna see it. You’ve heard about it. Seen police sketches and seen the mutants birthed by your human women. They say it’s not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean. Fuck. That. You know I’m 30′ feet long. My schwanz is half my body size. Yup, I’m causing all sorts of mayhem under the sea. I have my booty calls. Killer whales, dolphins, even a few sea lions (big fish need love too). I don’t hate. She’s just gotta be able to take what I’m giving without much fuss. Whoa, whoa, it’s not what you think. It’s all consensual.
As for the mutant human babies? Please, I’ve got a 15′ wank. You think those short-random rain showers over the cloudy coasts of Scotland are all full of rain? Look, all I’m saying is–if you don’t wanna kill it, don’t try and catch every rain drop falling from the sky.
Moral of the story is–the rumors are true. I command this lake and everyone that invades my space gets what they had comin’ to ’em. Sex, books and caviar are all I need to live peacefully. As for those other mythical creatures? Believe what you want. Unicorns have horns on their head. But they still poop rainbows. Bigfoot and the Abominable Snowman are basically the same overgrown hairy human experiment gone wrong–just by different governments of the world. There’s not much that’s too special about the rest of them. Me? I’ve got a huge wang, I’m sophisticated and I just want to be left alone. Don’t come knocking on my door with any more questions now that I’ve set the record straight. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a 2 PM with Shamu’s mom. 
