"YOU'RE A SEEPING CLOACA," Megazilla bellows, and Electrozilla storms up Zilla Island's peak, crackling ominously.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL YOUR CLUTCHMATE?" they yell.
"IT'S NOT FAIR," Megazilla says. "I HAD A FURLESS-SONA FIRST. ULTRAZILLA STEALS EVERYTHING. THEY'RE A CLOACA."
Electrozilla spreads stubby forearms and roars. Lightning sparks from cloud to cloud to mountaintop.
"STOP CALLING YOUR CLUTCHMATE A CLOACA!"
There's a long silence under the ominous clouds. "I had a furless-sona first," Megazilla says sulkily. "They're a French chef with a hook for a hand who does kung-fu for charity and they've got purple hair and their name is Meganzilla Smith—"
Ultrazilla conspicuously muffles a mean laugh.
"ULTRAZILLA'S BEING A CLOACA!"
"I WILL TAIL-SLAM YOU BOTH OFF THIS MOUNTAIN INTO THE SEA," Electrozilla warns.
"The Miracle Jaccomarchiadus Belles like my furless-sona better than they'd like Meganzilla," Ultrazilla says tauntingly. "They sent an email back to Jane and everything. They looooove me. They're going to come to the island and get rid of the evil laughing and they'll like me so much they'll make me an honourary Belle. I've already got the spinny skirt off the internet."
There's a long silence.
"You've got a spinny skirt," Electrozilla says. "Off the internet. To fit a sixty-foot-tall radioactive lizard with a tail."
"Fursuiters will make anything if you pay them," Ultrazilla says, with lofty scorn for their disbelief.
"Pay them with what?"
"Elderzilla's credit card."
"What," Electrozilla says.
"It's to pay for their internet porn," Ultrazilla says sagely.
"I'M GOING TO BITE THROUGH SOME UNDERSEA CABLES," Electrozilla decides. "NO MORE INTERNET FOR ANY OF YOU!"
"Um, we're on a radioactive island," Ultrazilla says. "It's all microwaves, actually? Mechazilla picks them up with his robot head, that's what they call wifi, Boomer."
"YOU ARE SEVENTY-THREE YEARS OLD, YOUNG LIZARD," Electrozilla bellows, already charging downhill toward the sea. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING BOOMER?"