Godzilla?! Are you out of your mind? Go back to Hollow Earth, you absolute tourist! We worship a benevolent deity of peace and l rebirth here, not some radioactive iguana!
The other day I went to Infant Island. Infant Island!
And what do I see? A bunch of casual tourists, complete with their GoPro cameras and Monsterverse t-shirts. They're sitting there buying mass-produced "Infant Island juice boxes" at some makeshift visitor center.
I wanted to scream at them. "Hey! Get the hell out of here! Infant Island isn't some amusement park! You think this is Universal Studios?"
Look at them, trying to take selfies with the Shobijin. "Oh, look, the tiny twins are singing! Can we get an encore?" Fools. They don't even know the proper cadence of the ancient Mahara hymn. They probably think Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) is just "an old movie."
Listen to me, you punks. A trip to Infant Island is supposed to be a high-stakes, spiritual battleground. It’s you, the sacred pollen, and the giant, glowing compound eyes of the Goddess. You’re supposed to be in a constant state of hyperventilation from the sheer majesty. You sit on a sharp volcanic rock, you inhale the pure, unrefined nuclear silk dust, and you look at the guy across the altar from you like you're ready to sacrifice him to the cocoon. That's how a real devotee does it!
And then this one kid has the nerve to look up at the sky and ask, "Is Godzilla gonna show up and fight?"
Godzilla?! Are you out of your mind? Go back to Hollow Earth, you absolute tourist! We worship a benevolent deity of peace and cyclical rebirth here, not some overgrown radioactive iguana!
Next time I come here, I’m standing directly in the blast zone of her Divine Hurricane wind just to prove a point.