Monday, September 1, 2008

Dear Toho (You thought it was over?)

It’s recently been brought to my attention that you retired the Godzilla franchise. I commend you on finally putting that old dog to sleep, but I want to inquire why I’ve only had three roles in the last fifty fucking years. And last time I died twice in the same movie. Twice in the same movie! Mothra has the phoenix fetish and even she doesn’t suck that badly!

I have two beaks, one serving as a pincer. I have an organic buzzsaw running down my chest and three razor wings that let me fly while leaving my arms free. And my arms? They’re fucking swords! I’m pretty sure I can shoot lasers from my cyclopic eye. I would give Charles Manson nightmares. How come I can’t get my own movie?

Or at least let me fight Gamera. I can take an overgrown turtle that’s greatest feature is shooting flames out his butt. It’s not like he does anything. We’ll restart my career over his carcass, then launch a solo picture.

“Gigan: New King of the Monsters.”

No, wait. “Gigan: Prime Minister of the Monsters.” I’ll be a fairly elected ruler of the giant menaces. Think it over. I’m going to go get drunk at Megalon’s.


PS: If you give that giant cockroach a deal before me I’ll lay eggs in your children’s ears. I can do that. I checked with fan fiction.

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