A Kaiju Valentine's

Two men sat at a table in a dark dive bar.  Their regular waitress walked over to take their order.

“Pitcher of Prima Pils and, uh,” he looked to his friend.  “Two or three glasses?”
“Is Godzilla showing up tonight?” asked Reg.
“Who knows, he’s been acting weird lately,” said Don
“He’s been acting weird for years now.”

The server, Lara, rolled her eyes, looking extremely impatient with the exchange.  Though they were decent, regular customers she often became irritated by their indecisiveness.

“Yeah, so, a pitcher of Prima Pils and two glasses,” Don said sheepishly.
“If he shows up we’ll just get another glass.”  Reg tried to placate Lara with a smile.

The waitress, unmoved by Reg’s conciliatory gesture, headed to the bar to get their order, shaking her head all the way.

“So, what’s been up with Godzilla lately?  He always used to come out for Tuesday night beers.”
“He’s been pretty frustrated lately, you know?”
“Yeah.  I don’t know what his deal is.  He never talks about himself.”

Reg gave a chuckle.

“What?” asked Don.
“Maybe he just needs a girlfriend.  When was the last time you saw him date someone?”
“Have you ever known him date anyone?”
“Nah,” Reg exhaled.

The two sat in silence for a moment pondering the conversation.

“Maybe,” Reg paused, “Maybe we should try to set him up with someone?”
Don chuffed.  “Who would you set up with a three hundred and fifty foot tall antediluvian lizard with fire breath?”
“I think it’s atomic breath...”
“Same difference.”
“Well, is he the only one of his kind?”
“As far as I know.”
“Maybe we can set him up with one of the other kaiju.”  Reg paused for a moment in thought.  “Um, Mothra’s a girl, right?”

The two looked up to see Lara standing there with their drinks in her hand.

“Are you two morons trying to set Godzilla up with someone?”

Don opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

“Don’t!  I’ve seen angry guys like him before.  He’s clearly an abuser.”

The two men looked away from Lara.

“Seriously, if you set him up with someone he’d just end up beating her.  You know what he just did to Ghidorah.  He tied all three of his necks together in a knot and threw him into a volcano.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Don’t ‘Yeah, but’ me, Donald.”  Lara always used their full names when she chided them.  “Remember what he did in San Francisco back in twenty fourteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Lara mimicked in a sarcastic tone.  “That young couple just moved to the Bay area to start a family and that jackass Godzilla swam up out of the Pacific and beat them both to death in their own home.  He even blew fire breath right down that lady’s throat.”
“I think it’s actually atomic...”
“Shut the fuck up, Reginald.”
“You’re probably right, Lara.” Don said with a sigh.
“Probably?  When will you boys learn: you’re always drunk and I’m always right.”



Thousands of miles away in the Atlantic Ocean sat an island no one knew about.  It was dead center of an area some called the Bermuda Triangle.  Most people don’t believe that the Bermuda Triangle is real, but it most assuredly is.

This lone, pristine island remains unknown to outsiders because it has a protector.  She stands over three hundred feet tall: a lone, cyclopean reptile with a long tail, dorsal spines, and an atomic breath which she’s used to destroy any ship or plane that came near the island.  The island’s inhabitants worship her, more as a protector than as a goddess.  She’s kept this island paradise unsullied by outside interference.

Today was a holiday on the island.  The people of the island would thank her for her protection and she would smile, well as much of a smile as an eldritch behemoth can muster, as she accepted their blessings.

The natives made a drink, an alcoholic beverage fermented from the juice of a fruit which only grew on this island.  All of them, both humans and the beast, would drink in celebration.   She stood next to a pool which had been salvaged from a cruise ship which had unfortunately strayed too near the island, filled to the brim with the brew.  In the pool stood a beach umbrella, mimicking a parasol that they had seen placed in a drink on the doomed cruise liner.

She watched as a young couple walked up to her, hand in hand, to offer their thanks.  She had seen these two grow up and fall in love, as she had watched their parents and grandparents do before them.  For generations she watched as the inhabitants of this island would grow up, fall in love, and start families of their own.

There she stood, alone, the only one of her kind as far as she knew.

She heaved a heavy sigh, careful to turn her face out to sea, knowing the damage the gust of her breath could do to their simple village.

She turned back and stared despondently at the bottom of her drink.