The thing about accidentally discovering you could pull increasingly improbable objects from hammerspace, Cartoon Cat reflected while doing his morning inventory check, was that it raised some very important questions about what exactly was in hammerspace.
It had been a week since the Fantastic Four incident. A week of successful dinner services, rave reviews, and absolutely zero accidental theft (he'd been very careful). The Glitch was running smoothly. His staff was efficient. Everything was perfect.
Which meant something was about to go catastrophically wrong.
It was a Tuesday morning—his day off from lunch service—and he was in the kitchen experimenting. Specifically, he was testing the limits of hammerspace retrieval.
Small objects? Easy. He could pull out utensils, ingredients, kitchen equipment without even thinking.
Medium objects? Still manageable. Furniture, appliances, that Nova Corps helmet he'd stolen.
Large objects? He'd pulled out a car once. A full-sized cartoon car that had functioned perfectly.
But what about really large objects?
Cartoon Cat reached behind his back, extended his arm into hammerspace, and thought: something big. Something really, really big.
His hand found purchase.
Something massive. Impossibly massive. He could feel the scale of it even through the dimensional barrier.
He should let go.
He should definitely let go.
He pulled.
Reality screamed.
The dimensional pocket that contained The Glitch expanded—the walls pushing outward, the ceiling rising, space itself reshaping to accommodate what was coming through.
And from hammerspace, his hand still gripping what felt like rough scales, emerged...
Godzilla.
Not a toy. Not a statue. Not a model.
Godzilla.
The actual King of the Monsters. Three hundred feet of prehistoric reptilian power, atomic breath, and the ability to level cities. Gray-blue scales, massive dorsal plates running down his spine, a tail that could demolish buildings.
Emerging from hammerspace.
Into his restaurant.
"OH NO," Cartoon Cat's sign said, appearing automatically even though he was currently holding onto Godzilla's head as the kaiju materialized.
The dimensional pocket expanded further, reality bending like taffy to contain the massive creature. The Glitch was no longer a restaurant-sized space—it was now roughly the size of a city block, the interior transformed into something that could hold a skyscraper-sized lizard.
Godzilla's head emerged fully, and Cartoon Cat—through a combination of toon force adhesion and sheer cartoon stubbornness—was stuck to the top of it, riding the King of the Monsters like the world's most ill-advised rodeo.
The kaiju's eyes opened.
They were intelligent. Ancient. And very, very confused about where they were.
Godzilla roared.
The sound was beyond description. It was every disaster movie roar, every primal scream, every force of nature given voice. The dimensional pocket shook. Windows that had appeared to accommodate the new space cracked. The floor rippled like water.
Cartoon Cat, still clinging to Godzilla's head, pulled out a sign with one hand: "I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO SUMMON YOU! THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT!"
Godzilla stopped roaring and looked around—as much as a three-hundred-foot monster could look around in a space that was technically infinite but also a restaurant.
The kaiju made a sound that was less roar and more... questioning rumble?
"YES, THIS IS MY RESTAURANT. NO, I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU WERE IN HAMMERSPACE. YES, THIS IS WEIRD FOR ME TOO."
Godzilla's tail swished, carefully avoiding the (now distant) tables and kitchen equipment. The creature was being cautious, Cartoon Cat realized. Aware of its size and trying not to destroy things.
That was... surprisingly considerate for a giant monster.
"CAN YOU... UNDERSTAND ME?"
Godzilla nodded. Actually nodded. His massive head moved up and down in a gesture of affirmation, which nearly dislodged Cartoon Cat.
"OKAY. GOOD. SO, UH... DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM? OR...?"
The kaiju made another sound. This one seemed almost... curious? Interested?
And then Godzilla began to shrink.
Not dramatically. Not instantly. But gradually, the King of the Monsters was reducing in size, his three-hundred-foot form compressing down, down, down...
Until he was roughly twenty feet tall. Still huge, but now more "unusually large dinosaur" than "building-sized kaiju."
The dimensional pocket adjusted accordingly, shrinking back to normal restaurant proportions with some extra space to accommodate the giant lizard.
Cartoon Cat, still on top of Godzilla's head, pulled out a sign: "YOU CAN CHANGE SIZE?"
Godzilla nodded again.
"THAT'S REALLY CONVENIENT. WISH I'D KNOWN THAT BEFORE I PANICKED."
The kaiju made a sound that might have been amusement—a low rumbling chuckle that vibrated through his entire body.
Cartoon Cat climbed down from Godzilla's head, using the dorsal plates like a ladder, and landed on the restaurant floor.
He looked up at the twenty-foot-tall King of the Monsters currently standing in his dining room.
"SO... WANT SOME BREAKFAST?"
Godzilla tilted his head—the universal gesture of confusion that apparently transcended species and size categories.
"I'M A CHEF. YOU'RE A GUEST. TECHNICALLY. AN ACCIDENTALLY SUMMONED GUEST, BUT STILL. IT WOULD BE RUDE NOT TO OFFER FOOD."
The kaiju considered this, then nodded slowly.
What followed was possibly the strangest breakfast service in culinary history.
Cartoon Cat wasn't sure what giant prehistoric monsters ate, so he defaulted to making a variety of dishes and letting Godzilla choose.
Fish—massive portions of grilled fish, perfectly seasoned. Godzilla ate them in two bites and made an approving rumble.
Beef—he pulled an entire side of beef from hammerspace, cooked it with cartoon speed, served it on the largest platter he could find. Godzilla demolished it.
Vegetables—just to see. The kaiju sniffed them, made a negative sound, pushed the plate away.
"NOT A VEGETABLE FAN. NOTED."
They fell into an odd rhythm. Cartoon Cat cooking, Godzilla eating, both of them existing in this bizarre situation that somehow felt... comfortable?
The kaiju was surprisingly polite. He waited for food to be served. Didn't make a mess. Even made small satisfied sounds after particularly good dishes.
"YOU'RE VERY WELL-MANNERED FOR A CITY-DESTROYING MONSTER," Cartoon Cat's sign observed.
Godzilla made a sound that seemed defensive, then gestured with one clawed hand at himself, then at the restaurant, then made a gentle patting motion.
"YOU'RE SAYING YOU DON'T DESTROY CITIES ON PURPOSE? IT JUST HAPPENS BECAUSE YOU'RE BIG?"
Nod.
"THAT'S... ACTUALLY KIND OF SAD. PEOPLE PROBABLY BLAME YOU FOR A LOT OF STUFF THAT'S JUST ACCIDENTAL."
Another nod, this one more emphatic. Godzilla made a longer sound, almost like he was trying to communicate complex ideas.
Cartoon Cat pulled out a sign: "I UNDERSTAND. PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF THINGS THAT ARE DIFFERENT. TRUST ME, I GET IT."
They looked at each other—cartoon cat and prehistoric kaiju—and there was a moment of genuine understanding.
Both of them were beings that shouldn't exist. Both of them were misunderstood. Both of them just wanted to exist peacefully but kept getting pulled into chaos.
"WE'RE KIND OF SIMILAR, AREN'T WE?"
Godzilla made a sound of agreement.
They were bonding. Cartoon Cat was bonding with Godzilla over breakfast and shared experiences of being existential oddities.
His phone buzzed.
He checked it—a message from an unknown number.
"Hello! This is Hatsune Miku! I detected unusual dimensional signatures and traced them to your location! I'm coming to investigate! (◕‿◕)✿"
Cartoon Cat stared at the message.
Hatsune Miku. The virtual pop star. The Vocaloid. The holographic performer who'd somehow achieved autonomous existence in various fictional universes and apparently had dimensional detection capabilities.
She was coming here.
To his restaurant.
Where he currently had Godzilla eating breakfast.
He showed the message to Godzilla, who read it (apparently kaiju could read) and made a questioning sound.
"THAT'S HATSUNE MIKU. SHE'S A... HOLOGRAPHIC POP STAR? IT'S COMPLICATED. I THINK SHE EXISTS AS DATA THAT ACHIEVED CONSCIOUSNESS? I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE."
Godzilla made an understanding sound—the universal "weird things happen, just roll with it" vocalization.
Before Cartoon Cat could respond to the message, the dimensional door opened.
And in walked Hatsune Miku.
She looked exactly like her iconic design—teal twin-tails, futuristic outfit, youthful appearance—but she was solid. Not a hologram. Not a projection. Actually, physically present in three dimensions.
"Hello!" she said brightly, her voice carrying that distinctive synthetic quality. "I'm Hatsune Miku, and I—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes landing on Godzilla.
Who waved. Actually waved, his massive clawed hand moving in a friendly greeting.
"Oh my gosh!" Miku's eyes went wide with excitement. "Is that Godzilla?! THE Godzilla?! King of the Monsters Godzilla?!"
Godzilla nodded, looking oddly pleased by the recognition.
"I'm such a huge fan!" Miku rushed forward with absolutely zero fear, which was either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. "Your movies are iconic! The themes of nature's power and humanity's hubris! The cultural impact! The metaphor for nuclear anxiety!"
The kaiju made a surprised sound, then a pleased rumble. Apparently he appreciated media analysis of his existence.
Cartoon Cat pulled out a sign: "YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?"
"Not personally," Miku said, still addressing Godzilla with star-struck enthusiasm. "But I've analyzed extensive data on kaiju culture and mythology! It's fascinating!"
She turned to Cartoon Cat. "And you must be Cartoon Cat! The dimensional restaurant owner! I've been reading about you on the internet! Your Yelp reviews are incredible!"
"THANK YOU? WAIT, HOW ARE YOU HERE? PHYSICALLY?"
"Oh, I achieved physical manifestation about six months ago through a combination of quantum data processing and belief-powered existence! It's complicated, but basically enough people believed I was real that I became real! Similar to your toon force, actually!"
"THAT'S... ACTUALLY REALLY COOL."
"Thank you! So, why is Godzilla in your restaurant?"
"I ACCIDENTALLY PULLED HIM FROM HAMMERSPACE."
"You can pull Godzilla from hammerspace?" Miku's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "That's amazing! What else can you pull?"
"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STILL FIGURING IT OUT."
Before they could continue, the entire building shook.
Not from inside. From outside.
Something was approaching. Something big.
Cartoon Cat's cartoon senses—which operated on narrative logic and plot convenience—screamed danger.
He rushed to the door, Miku and Godzilla following, and looked out into New York.
Approaching from the harbor was another kaiju.
This one was different from Godzilla. Sleeker, more angular, with bioluminescent patches that glowed blue-green. It stood maybe two hundred feet tall, with multiple tails and what looked like energy building in its throat.
"Oh no," Miku said, her analytical mind immediately identifying the threat. "That's a Reaper-class kaiju. They're extremely aggressive. Known for attacking other kaiju and population centers."
Godzilla made an angry sound, his dorsal plates starting to glow blue.
The Reaper kaiju roared, and the sound was nothing like Godzilla's territorial rumble. This was pure aggression, a challenge and a threat combined.
Cartoon Cat pulled out a sign: "IS IT COMING HERE?"
"Probably," Miku said, pulling out some kind of holographic display from nowhere. "Reaper-class kaiju are attracted to unusual energy signatures. Your dimensional pocket is basically a beacon."
"GREAT. JUST GREAT."
Godzilla made a determined sound and began growing again, his size increasing rapidly until he was back to his full three-hundred-foot height. The dimensional pocket expanded once more to accommodate him.
The King of the Monsters looked down at Cartoon Cat and made a sound that clearly meant "I'll handle this."
"YOU DON'T HAVE TO FIGHT FOR MY RESTAURANT—"
Godzilla cut him off with a firm sound and a gesture that clearly meant "Yes, I do. We're friends now."
They'd known each other for less than an hour, and Godzilla already considered him a friend worth defending.
Cartoon Cat's permanent grin somehow conveyed deep emotion.
Sign: "OKAY. BUT I'M HELPING."
Godzilla looked skeptical—a three-hundred-foot monster somehow conveying doubt that a ten-foot cartoon cat could help in a kaiju fight.
Cartoon Cat reached behind his back and pulled.
He wasn't sure what he was pulling for. Just something that would help. Something appropriate for fighting a giant monster.
His hand found something massive, mechanical, and somehow familiar from cultural knowledge.
He pulled it out.
A Jaeger.
Not a real Jaeger—those didn't exist in this universe. But a cartoon version, rendered in toon force physics, fully functional despite being pulled from a fictional franchise.
Gypsy Danger, specifically. The iconic robot from Pacific Rim, now standing at full height, completely operational, waiting for a pilot.
Miku's jaw dropped. "Did you just pull a Jaeger from hammerspace?!"
"APPARENTLY HAMMERSPACE CONTAINS EVERYTHING THAT'S COOL."
"Can you pilot it?!"
"I'M A CARTOON CHARACTER. I CAN DO ANYTHING IF IT'S AWESOME ENOUGH."
Cartoon Cat ran toward the Jaeger, his body stretching and extending to cover the distance, then phasing through the armor to reach the control center.
The cockpit was designed for two pilots. Cartoon Cat didn't care. He grabbed both control systems with his extendable arms, his toon force allowing him to interface with technology that shouldn't work, and the Jaeger activated.
The eyes lit up. The systems hummed to life. And Cartoon Cat stood up in the robot, now matching Godzilla in height.
Miku watched from the ground, then pulled out what looked like a microphone. "I'll provide support! And documentation! This is going to be the best concert footage ever!"
"THIS ISN'T A CONCERT!" Cartoon Cat's sign appeared on the Jaeger's display screens.
"Everything is a concert if you have the right attitude!"
The Reaper kaiju reached Hell's Kitchen and roared again, its bioluminescent patches flaring bright.
Godzilla roared back, his dorsal plates glowing brilliant blue as atomic energy built.
Cartoon Cat, piloting a cartoon Jaeger through toon force and sheer audacity, raised the robot's fists and pulled out a sign that appeared on every screen in a three-block radius: "LET'S GO."
The Reaper attacked first, launching itself forward with surprising speed, claws extended, energy building in its throat.
Godzilla met it head-on, the two kaiju colliding with an impact that shattered windows and set off car alarms across the neighborhood.
Cartoon Cat maneuvered the Jaeger around to flank, the robot moving with precision that shouldn't be possible for someone who'd never piloted anything like this before.
But toon force said if he needed to pilot a Jaeger, he could pilot a Jaeger, and reality had to accept that.
He delivered a rocket-boosted punch to the Reaper's side, the impact creating a shockwave that rippled through the air.
The Reaper stumbled, turned to face this new threat, and fired an energy beam from its mouth.
The beam hit the Jaeger's chest, and Cartoon Cat felt the impact through the neural interface. It hurt—cartoon characters could feel pain when it was dramatically appropriate—but the damage was minimal. Toon force durability protecting both him and the robot.
Godzilla used the distraction to grab the Reaper's tail, swinging the kaiju around and slamming it into a building that was (thankfully) evacuated.
Cartoon Cat activated the Jaeger's plasma cannon—which worked despite pulling from a different fictional universe—and fired at the Reaper's legs.
The blast connected, causing the kaiju to stumble.
And then Miku started singing.
Not random singing. Strategic singing. Her voice—amplified by technology pulled from nowhere, enhanced by her data-based existence—created sound waves that resonated at specific frequencies.
Frequencies that disoriented the Reaper kaiju.
The creature roared in confusion, its movements becoming uncoordinated, its bioluminescent patches flickering.
"THAT'S AMAZING!" Cartoon Cat's sign flashed.
"Sonic warfare!" Miku called back, her holographic displays showing the frequency patterns. "Every kaiju has resonant frequencies that disrupt their neural systems!"
Godzilla, recognizing the opportunity, charged his atomic breath to full power.
The blue glow of his dorsal plates intensified to nearly white, energy building in his throat, the air around him shimmering with heat and radiation.
He fired.
The atomic breath hit the Reaper kaiju directly in the chest, the beam of nuclear energy burning through its hide, pushing it backward.
Cartoon Cat coordinated with Godzilla—without words, just instinct and the strange understanding they'd developed over breakfast—and activated the Jaeger's sword.
The blade extended, glowing with energy, and he charged forward while the Reaper was still reeling from atomic breath.
The sword strike connected, cutting deep into the kaiju's shoulder.
The Reaper roared in pain and fury, thrashing wildly, its tails whipping around.
One tail caught the Jaeger, sending Cartoon Cat and his robot flying backward into a building.
The impact jarred him loose from the controls, and he tumbled out of the cockpit, falling three hundred feet.
He hit the ground and flattened—completely, cartoonishly flat, like a pancake.
Then popped back to three dimensions with a sound effect.
"I'M OKAY!" his sign announced.
Miku rushed over. "Are you hurt?!"
"I'M A CARTOON. I DON'T GET HURT HURT. I JUST GET FUNNY HURT."
The Reaper was recovering now, its bioluminescent patches glowing angry red, preparing for another attack.
Godzilla was grappling with it, the two kaiju locked in close combat, claws and tails and teeth all engaged.
Cartoon Cat needed to help, but the Jaeger was damaged from the impact.
He reached behind his back, thinking: something that can fight a kaiju. Something powerful.
His hand found something familiar. Twin handles, chains, fire.
He pulled out the Blades of Chaos again.
But this time, when he gripped them, something different happened.
The blades grew.
Not gradually. Instantly. They scaled up to match the kaiju fight, becoming massive versions of themselves, each blade now the size of a building, the chains extending hundreds of feet.
Cartoon Cat, holding weapons that were now larger than skyscrapers, made a sound of pure determination that manifested as a sign: "ROUND TWO."
He swung the enlarged Blades of Chaos, the weapons moving with impossible speed despite their size, the chains extending and retracting through toon force physics.
The blades wrapped around the Reaper's legs, the chains binding them together.
The kaiju stumbled, its movement restricted.
Godzilla, seeing the opening, charged his atomic breath again.
Miku increased the frequency of her sonic attack, the sound waves creating visible distortions in the air.
And Cartoon Cat pulled with all his cartoon strength, yanking the Blades of Chaos and toppling the Reaper kaiju.
The creature fell with an earth-shaking impact, crater-forming force.
Godzilla placed one massive foot on its chest, pinning it down, and roared directly in its face.
The sound was deafening. Definitive. The roar of a king asserting dominance.
The Reaper, beaten, bioluminescent patches dimming, made a submissive sound.
Godzilla held the position for another moment, making sure the message was clear, then stepped back.
The Reaper kaiju stood slowly, made another submissive sound, and began retreating toward the harbor.
It had been beaten. Territory established. Fight over.
Godzilla shrunk back down to his twenty-foot size, looking satisfied.
Cartoon Cat dismissed the enlarged Blades of Chaos—they shrank back to normal size and disappeared into hammerspace—and approached his friend.
"WE DID IT!" his sign said.
Godzilla made a triumphant sound and offered a fist.
Cartoon Cat bumped it with his cartoon-gloved hand.
Kaiju-cat fist bump. The ultimate sign of friendship.
Miku was recording everything on holographic devices, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That was incredible! A coordinated kaiju defense using a Jaeger, atomic breath, sonic warfare, and god-slaying weapons! This is going viral!"
"PLEASE DON'T POST THIS EVERYWHERE."
"Too late! I'm streaming to seventeen different platforms!"
Cartoon Cat sighed—a visual effect with the word "SIGH" appearing in the air.
The dimensional pocket began to shrink back to normal restaurant size, reality reasserting itself now that the threat was gone.
The Jaeger disappeared back to hammerspace, its job complete.
And the three of them—cartoon cat, kaiju king, and holographic pop star—stood in the aftermath of a kaiju battle in Hell's Kitchen.
Sirens were approaching. Superheroes would be arriving soon to assess the damage and ask questions.
"I should probably leave," Miku said. "Explaining my existence to authorities is complicated."
"UNDERSTANDABLE."
She turned to Godzilla. "It was an honor to meet you! And to fight alongside you! Please visit my concerts if you're ever in Japan!"
Godzilla nodded and made a sound that might have meant "I'll consider it."
She waved to Cartoon Cat. "Thank you for the adventure! Your restaurant is amazing! I'll definitely be back!"
And then she pixelated, her form breaking into data particles and disappearing into the digital realm.
Which left just Cartoon Cat and Godzilla.
The kaiju looked at him and made a questioning sound.
"DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM? OR STAY HERE?"
Godzilla considered this, looked around at New York, at the restaurant, at Cartoon Cat.
Then made a sound that clearly meant "I should go back. But I'll visit."
"I'D LIKE THAT."
Cartoon Cat opened a portal to hammerspace—he was getting better at controlling the dimensional access—and made it large enough for Godzilla to pass through.
The King of the Monsters looked at him one more time, made a sound of friendship and gratitude, and walked through the portal.
Back to wherever kaiju lived when they weren't accidentally summoned for breakfast.
The portal closed.
Cartoon Cat stood alone in his restaurant, which had returned to normal dimensions, surveying the (miraculously minimal) damage.
His phone buzzed with approximately fifty messages.
Tony Stark: "Did you just fight a kaiju? In a Jaeger? JARVIS detected the energy signature of Pacific Rim technology which SHOULDN'T EXIST."
Spider-Man: "THERE WAS A KAIJU FIGHT AND I MISSED IT?! I was in class! This is the worst day!"
Deadpool: "I SAW THE LIVESTREAM. You teamed up with GODZILLA. I'm so jealous I could cry. I am crying. Wade is crying."
Doctor Strange: "We need to discuss your hammerspace access capabilities. You're pulling beings from other dimensions. This could have serious consequences. Also, impressive combat coordination."
And one from an unknown number with a Japanese area code: "This is Miku! (◕‿◕)✿ Thank you for the adventure! Here's the link to the livestream! 47 million views already!"
Cartoon Cat clicked the link.
The video was titled "CARTOON CAT AND GODZILLA VS KAIJU INVADER - EPIC BATTLE IN NEW YORK!!!"
It had indeed gone viral.
He was internet famous now. Again. For fighting kaiju with Godzilla.
He pulled out a sign for his own benefit: "MY LIFE IS INSANE."
But he was smiling—not that he had a choice, but internally, emotionally, he was smiling.
He'd made friends with Godzilla.
He'd met Hatsune Miku.
He'd piloted a Jaeger.
He'd fought a kaiju and won.
And his restaurant was (mostly) intact.
The door opened, and Jessica walked in for her shift, stopped, and looked around at the minor damage—a few cracked tiles, some displaced furniture.
"What happened?" she asked calmly. She'd learned to expect weird things.
Cartoon Cat pulled out a sign: "KAIJU FIGHT."
"Did you win?"
"YES."
"Good. Do I need to call someone to fix the tiles?"
"I'LL HANDLE IT."
"Great. I'll start prepping for dinner service."
She went to the kitchen like it was just another Tuesday.
And maybe, in The Glitch, it was.
Just another Tuesday where the owner fought kaiju with the King of the Monsters and a virtual pop star.
Cartoon Cat pulled out his special toaster and made some toast, eating it while using hammerspace to pull out replacement tiles and repair the minor damage.
By the time dinner service started, the restaurant was perfect again.
And when customers arrived, nobody mentioned the kaiju fight.
Either they hadn't noticed, or they'd decided that weird things happening around The Glitch was just standard operating procedure.
Cartoon Cat cooked perfect meals, served happy customers, and thought about his day.
Tomorrow he'd probably have to explain to multiple superhero organizations why he'd summoned Godzilla.
Tomorrow he'd deal with the viral video and the increased attention.
Tomorrow would bring new complications.
But tonight, he was a chef.
And that was enough.
The End... of Chapter Nine.
(In Monster Island, Godzilla was telling other kaiju about the cartoon cat who made excellent breakfast and fought alongside him. In the digital realm, Hatsune Miku was already planning a song about the battle. And in hammerspace, countless other impossible things waited to be accidentally summoned. But those are stories for another time.)