Kaijumentary DVDExtra II

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--Unto What is Seesar's: Original Screenplay--

I've spent the majority of my life as an unappreciated Okinowan God.

All the other dieties have their own religions. They're praised in song, bibles detail their every move, they even get the quality advertising and merchandising. Me? I spend my days buried under a mountain. This is not the Hilton.

My name is King Shisaa, and this is my life.

[Shisaa in a Communist China uniform]. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not Japanese, I'm from China. Don't knock the uniform because everyone was required to wear it. I left the motherland once they started killing all the newborn baby girls because some genius delared that they were unlucky. You want to define unlucky? Singles night at a Chinese nightclub. It's a total sausagefest. The Chinese are unparralled in the Art of the Buffet, but their ideas of procreation are so Stone Age it makes the Catholics look sexually liberated.

My name originally is King Shisaa. Don't exactly know what I'm the king of, but if you listen to that asshole Godzilla I'm King of the Dingleberries. Look, prettyboy, you try combing crap out of your fur after Fourthmeal at Taco Bell! Anyway, I went to America to find my fortune, and that's where my name got changed to King Seesar. I would have complained but we're talking about a nation that can't even uniformly pronounce General Tso's chicken dish right, so I let it slide. Toho ultimately trademarks my name as King Caesar, so overnight I go from being Chinese to Roman. After that I could only get a job at Little Caesar's after their last mascot committed suicide. I'm not at liberty to really talk about it, but it was a real mess. They found him in the Vomitorium.

[Cut to Shisaa's commercial. He's in a toga holding a plate of greens, with a caption "Go ahead, toss my salad!"]

I left America after a few years to settle down in the land of the rising sun. This little known movie company hired me on to do a few cameos and guest appearances. After never really succeeding as a benevelent but voracious God reaping in human sacrifice, it was a steady paycheck. It beats hanging out in front of Chinese resturants with a ball in my mouth. By the way, we don't call it Chinese Food back home. We call it "food" or "what used to be our pets."

Every so often I get woken up by some Azumi Family Ainu bint with some off-key song who doesn't even show me the respect to do it while naked. Why do I get woken from my well-deserved slumber? Because her temple, which no one even goes to anymore, is about to get wiped off the map by some walking Ace Hardware store controlled by Black Hole aliens who look like extras from Planet of the Apes. There goes the neighborhood. But here's the real kicker, I'm not even good enough to save the day by myself. I have to tag team with some scaly primadonna who's going to take all the credit while I return to living under a rock without even so much as a 16-year-old virgin or a Pina Coloda.

Along comes MechaGodzilla. Now I have no problem with the guy, he's a real professional. But he's under orders to take over the world. So I got to stop him. It'll ruin my rep if I don't. What mystifies me is the aforementioned Azumi family priestess spends half an hour singing to me on the beach to wake me up. I'm going to ignore the fact that they didn't even bother to knock on my front door. I'm just amazed that MechaGodzilla didn't stomp her into the ground like a Japanese pancake. he was probably too confused trying to figure out what they hell this stupid bitch is doing. But I eventually decide to mosey on out of my mountain and tussle with MG.

Trade secret, that whole prophecy about the myth that I can only be summoned when the sun rises in the west or some other such garbage? I started that centuries ago. I figured it would be a great way to really make it difficult for the public to get me up to do anything.

So MG and I are doing our dance and I'm pretty much controlling the field. I'm not tooting my own horn or anything, but I like to think I brought some extra game to the ballet of Kaiju Combat. Your average atomic horror is an invincible walking force of nature, but horribly out of shape. They all have a beer belly like it's Super Bowl weekend 24-7. I however can sprint like a Kenyan in front of a Klan Rally in South Carolina. Plus I can reflect all of MG's beam weapons back at him with just my eyes. Then he gets the bright idea to fill my ass with bullets and missles, which I can't reflect. I always thought MG was overcompensating for something. No one carries that much artillery around without lacking something in the sack.

But still, I'm holding my own until that asshole Godzilla shows up. Apparently MG has whipped his butt a few days ago and he wanted some paypack, because that's his name lit up on the marquee. Now I didn't need his help, but that pigfucker waltzes over to where we are and tags in like he's saving my life. Unbelievable. This was during the era where Godzilla was a friend to children and protector of the Earth and all that horseshit. Let me tell you something, Godzilla protects one thing, himself.

Anyway, MechaGodzilla retaliates with an arsenal that would make the United States military just look gay, all the while set to upbeat 70's Jazz. That's when the straw broke the camel's back...

KS: "*pant* He's been whuppin' our asses for half an hour now. What are we gonna do?"

G: "I don't know. Let's say I get magnetic powers."

KS: "What?!?! You can't do that!!"

G: "Why not?"

KS: "You can't just give yourself new superpowers when it's convenient for you! That's stupid!!!"

G: "Yeah, well so's your face. Now stand back and watch The Master."

It was the greatest Dues Ex Machina of all time, and wouldn't be replicated again in recorded history until that whole Spider-Man "One More Day" disaster.

[Scene of Godzilla rising up with angel wings, holding his arms aloft in the Karate Kid Crane Kick pose with a chorus of angels behind him, floating towards a stunned MechaGodzilla.]

Suddenly, for no reason whatsoever, Godzilla makes like Magneto and turns the tide of the battle. It was as ridiculous as the time lightening suddenly made King Kong stronger.

At that point, I had enough. Godzilla saved the day and I went back to my hovel, never to be seen again until Final Wars. By that time I had come to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior and gotten my life on track. I did the Nutri-system thing, learned some Tai-Bo, and really got in the best shape of my life.

[Scene of King Shisaa writing his memoirs as the narration continues, only interrupted by his skull exploding from an executioner-style laser bolt to the back of his head. Grendel steps into the camera view holding the smoking gun.]

Grendel: "Sweet Monkey Jesus, if I had to hear one more exposition I would have put a pusle bolt through my own head. Fucking Ewok!"

The End

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