Godzilla vs. Jesus

In New York City, chaos was a part of daily life. From traffic jams to pizza slices the size of your face, the city knew how to handle the unexpected. But even New Yorkers, hardened by subway rats and midtown rents, weren’t ready for a giant lizard stomping through their beloved skyline.

It started on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday. The office drones were busy complaining about their bosses, tourists clogged Times Square, and somewhere, a hot dog vendor argued with a pigeon. But then, the ground shook. Not the usual shake from the L train barreling underground—this was something bigger. Buildings wobbled like Jenga towers, and coffee cups toppled off desks everywhere.

Then came the roar—deep, guttural, and definitely not from someone who had just missed their morning latte. The roar echoed off the skyscrapers, and from the East River, Godzilla emerged, shaking off debris like an overgrown, radioactive puppy fresh out of the water. He blinked, yawned, and stomped on a taxi, probably just to test his footing. The city fell into instant chaos.

People scattered, some screaming, some grabbing their phones for the perfect Instagram shot, and some calmly sipping their coffee because, let’s be honest, this was still New York. And what’s one more catastrophe when you’re late for work?

Meanwhile, in a surprisingly peaceful corner of the Bronx, a small crowd gathered to listen to Jesus of Nazareth. Yeah, that Jesus. Turns out, when you can walk on water and turn water into wine, a plane ticket to New York City isn’t that big of a stretch. Jesus had set up shop in a park, teaching his usual lessons about love, forgiveness, and why maybe we should all take a deep breath before rage-tweeting.

But as he spoke, a young kid pointed to the skyline. “Uh, dude—Jesus—there’s a giant lizard thingy smashing buildings.”

Jesus squinted, like he needed glasses but was too cool to admit it. “Ah, Godzilla. I had a feeling he’d show up.” The crowd gasped, but Jesus just shrugged. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”

Unfazed, Jesus walked toward Manhattan, his sandals slapping against the pavement, while his disciples—now a diverse bunch of hipsters and curious tourists—followed. As they reached the edge of the city, the streets were littered with abandoned yellow cabs, and Godzilla was taking a nice stroll down Fifth Avenue, like he was window shopping. He even paused to look at a billboard, scratching his head like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Jesus raised a hand. “Hey, big guy!”

Godzilla stopped mid-roar and turned his massive head, looking genuinely surprised. If a giant lizard could blink, he would’ve.

“We need to talk,” Jesus said, hands on his hips like an annoyed dad. “You’re kind of wrecking the place.”

Godzilla grumbled, a low rumble that shook a few more windows. Jesus sighed. “Look, I get it. The ocean’s getting warmer, and you probably needed a break. But this isn’t the way to do it.”

Godzilla growled, but Jesus was undeterred. He stepped forward, holding out a loaf of bread—classic Jesus move. “You know, we could sit down and talk this out over some bread and fish.” Godzilla eyed the bread like a cat eyeing an empty tuna can, unimpressed.

“Not your thing, huh?” Jesus said, rubbing his chin. “Okay, how about this?” With a wave of his hand, Jesus summoned a giant inflatable Godzilla pool toy from a nearby billboard, which promptly floated down into the Hudson River.

Godzilla’s eyes lit up. A giant lizard with a soft spot for inflatable toys—who would’ve guessed? He roared happily, diving back into the river with a splash that soaked the Brooklyn Bridge and left every pedestrian drenched but somehow still holding onto their Starbucks cups.

As Godzilla splashed around, happy as could be, Jesus dusted off his hands and turned to his disciples. “See? Sometimes, you just need to find common ground.” The crowd cheered, relieved and a little confused.

And as the giant lizard played in the Hudson, Jesus raised his arms. “All right, everybody. Pizza’s on me!” Because if there’s one thing that unites New York, giant lizard or not, it’s pizza.

The city erupted in cheers, and as the sun set over the skyscrapers, people could see Godzilla floating in the river, clutching his inflatable friend while New Yorkers shared slices of pizza, grateful that, for once, someone managed to save the day with a sense of humor—and a whole lot of carbs.