Her Royal Nessyness
Her Royal Nessness™
Title: Duchess of Duckies, Sovereign of Soaks, the Belch Heard 'Round the Loch
Pajama Pattern: Pink, lavender, and seafoam polka dots – tailored for large lizard hips
Signature Accessories:
Personality:
Title: Duchess of Duckies, Sovereign of Soaks, the Belch Heard 'Round the Loch
Pajama Pattern: Pink, lavender, and seafoam polka dots – tailored for large lizard hips
Signature Accessories:
- Crown: One rubber ducky named Sir Quackalot III
- Spa beverage of choice: Moon-steeped lavender loch tea
- Fave bath bomb: “Tidal Bloom with Just a Hint of Vengeance”
Personality:
- -Will not respond to blurry camera sightings unless bribed with scones
- -Once vaporized a tourist's GoPro with a glare and a bubble wand
- -Belches with enough power to ripple tartan for miles
“Nessie’s Bathtime of Destiny”
(a tale of bubbles, belches, and bizarre bedtime regality)
In the moonlit stillness of the Scottish Highlands, the loch shimmered under a blanket of stars. Tourists had long since gone, boats tied up, cameras tucked away. Peace reigned.
And then...
BLLLRRRAAAAAWWWWRRPPPP.
The waters trembled. A nearby sheep fainted.
And from the center of the loch rose a long, sinuous neck wrapped in—wait, were those bubble-print pajamas?
Oh yes.
It was her time.
---
The Loch Ness Monster, or as her friends called her, Queen Nessie the First of Floatopia, had finally emerged for her Weekly Sacred Bubble Soak. Her ancient, cozy tub—a clawfoot iron relic half-sunk in silt and sealed by kelp—sat just beneath the loch’s surface.
Tonight, she wore her finest:
Baby-blue pajamas printed with pastel bubbles and tiny goldfish.
A bathrobe made of mist and mystery.
And of course, her rubber ducky crown, slightly askew but full of sovereign snark.
She slid gracefully into the tub like a sea goddess clocking out of her shift at the Abyssal Office. Candles floated in waterproof shells. Seaweed face masks hovered nearby. One particularly cheeky koi was massaging her tail.
---
A sudden hiccup of bubbles burst from her snout. A low rumble built in her belly. And then, another mighty belch echoed through the glens, shaking teacups as far as Inverness.
She sighed.
“Ahh. Mint tea and marshmallow kraken... good combo.”
A pod of selkies paddled by with admiration and tiny loofahs.
A passing druid held up a sign from the shore:
"You’re beautiful and you deserve rest, Your Majesty."
Nessie dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed kelp towel.
---
And so she soaked, stargazed, and let the stress of the century melt away in bubble-scented bliss.
Some say the loch’s waters rose that night—not from rain, but from the collective joy of a monster finally being seen in her fluffy, fabulous form.
---
Moral of the story?
Even legends need lotion, loofahs, and a good belch now and then.
“Nessie’s Bathtime of Destiny”
(a tale of bubbles, belches, and bizarre bedtime regality)
In the moonlit stillness of the Scottish Highlands, the loch shimmered under a blanket of stars. Tourists had long since gone, boats tied up, cameras tucked away. Peace reigned.
And then...
BLLLRRRAAAAAWWWWRRPPPP.
The waters trembled. A nearby sheep fainted.
And from the center of the loch rose a long, sinuous neck wrapped in—wait, were those bubble-print pajamas?
Oh yes.
It was her time.
---
The Loch Ness Monster, or as her friends called her, Queen Nessie the First of Floatopia, had finally emerged for her Weekly Sacred Bubble Soak. Her ancient, cozy tub—a clawfoot iron relic half-sunk in silt and sealed by kelp—sat just beneath the loch’s surface.
Tonight, she wore her finest:
Baby-blue pajamas printed with pastel bubbles and tiny goldfish.
A bathrobe made of mist and mystery.
And of course, her rubber ducky crown, slightly askew but full of sovereign snark.
She slid gracefully into the tub like a sea goddess clocking out of her shift at the Abyssal Office. Candles floated in waterproof shells. Seaweed face masks hovered nearby. One particularly cheeky koi was massaging her tail.
---
A sudden hiccup of bubbles burst from her snout. A low rumble built in her belly. And then, another mighty belch echoed through the glens, shaking teacups as far as Inverness.
She sighed.
“Ahh. Mint tea and marshmallow kraken... good combo.”
A pod of selkies paddled by with admiration and tiny loofahs.
A passing druid held up a sign from the shore:
"You’re beautiful and you deserve rest, Your Majesty."
Nessie dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed kelp towel.
---
And so she soaked, stargazed, and let the stress of the century melt away in bubble-scented bliss.
Some say the loch’s waters rose that night—not from rain, but from the collective joy of a monster finally being seen in her fluffy, fabulous form.
---
Moral of the story?
Even legends need lotion, loofahs, and a good belch now and then.
