Disclaimer: I do not own Godzilla. If I did, there would be better fight
scenes.
To James Howard, Tokyo was not all it was cracked up to be. He walked through the streets, confident in his superiority over the Japanese.
By a freak chance, Howard had come through World War II unscathed. He had not been called up until June of 1944 and he had emerged without a scratch from Iwo Jima. Howard had come to Tokyo not long after World War II and in the eyes of the Japanese had been one of the most insufferable of all Yankees.
Howard had been through the occupation of Tokyo and had decided, to the less then obvious delight of many Tokyo inhabitants, to stay. He had finally earned Japanese respect by taking out several Yakuza headquarters.
Howard's role model was Allan Quatermain. To him, such adventurers deserved all the respect in the world. He could not get enough of 18th century literature. For that matter, Buck Rogers also attracted him.
The events of that week had been stunning. A giant monster had been spotted in Tokyo harbor only on Tuesday. It was now Wednesday, and there were rumors that the giant monster might show up.
The waters of Tokyo Bay boiled to life. A tremendous shriek echoed from the bay as what could only be described as a living mountain rose from the depths, the water glistening off it's scales. The immense being gave a thick grunt and it lumbered into Tokyo.
"My God!" cried Howard as he turned and ran from the immense creature now making its way into Tokyo. The leviathan howled, the sound shattering the glass windows of the massive city. The authorities called the monster Godzilla, but to Tokyo the creature was none less then Satan himself.
Howard stopped running as he jumped into an armored car. His plan was to kill himself and if he was lucky, to disable Godzilla. The car lurched forward as he turned it on and as he prepared to ram it into the monster.
The kaiju turned and he lashed out with his massive tail, crushing the car and a brave, but none too moral man. James Howard was dead. Tokyo would burn.
The King of the Monsters turned back toward the sea. There would always be another day to destroy Tokyo. A dock and Tokyo's finest anti-criminal man were gone.
Kato Yasunori laughed long and deep. His day was dawning.
To James Howard, Tokyo was not all it was cracked up to be. He walked through the streets, confident in his superiority over the Japanese.
By a freak chance, Howard had come through World War II unscathed. He had not been called up until June of 1944 and he had emerged without a scratch from Iwo Jima. Howard had come to Tokyo not long after World War II and in the eyes of the Japanese had been one of the most insufferable of all Yankees.
Howard had been through the occupation of Tokyo and had decided, to the less then obvious delight of many Tokyo inhabitants, to stay. He had finally earned Japanese respect by taking out several Yakuza headquarters.
Howard's role model was Allan Quatermain. To him, such adventurers deserved all the respect in the world. He could not get enough of 18th century literature. For that matter, Buck Rogers also attracted him.
The events of that week had been stunning. A giant monster had been spotted in Tokyo harbor only on Tuesday. It was now Wednesday, and there were rumors that the giant monster might show up.
The waters of Tokyo Bay boiled to life. A tremendous shriek echoed from the bay as what could only be described as a living mountain rose from the depths, the water glistening off it's scales. The immense being gave a thick grunt and it lumbered into Tokyo.
"My God!" cried Howard as he turned and ran from the immense creature now making its way into Tokyo. The leviathan howled, the sound shattering the glass windows of the massive city. The authorities called the monster Godzilla, but to Tokyo the creature was none less then Satan himself.
Howard stopped running as he jumped into an armored car. His plan was to kill himself and if he was lucky, to disable Godzilla. The car lurched forward as he turned it on and as he prepared to ram it into the monster.
The kaiju turned and he lashed out with his massive tail, crushing the car and a brave, but none too moral man. James Howard was dead. Tokyo would burn.
The King of the Monsters turned back toward the sea. There would always be another day to destroy Tokyo. A dock and Tokyo's finest anti-criminal man were gone.
Kato Yasunori laughed long and deep. His day was dawning.