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Kaiju Commissioner

The Choco-Austrian Peace Keeper

Peacekeeping is both a blessing and a curse for the Kaiju Commissioner, a shadowy human-arbitrator appointed by a top-secret supranational committee to mediate monster mayhem. Born during Hitler's reign, the future monster-moderator was a progeny of two poor Serbian immigrants living in a remote Austrian village. For most of World War II, the family's mountainside hideaway escaped Nazi attention -- until one fateful afternoon, when the eight-year-old Commissioner was playing Austrian Chase (a variation of Checkers) with his father, and an ear-splitting crash came from outside their lilliputian log cabin. Two Nazi battalions, lost on their way to Russia, had thundered into the township and opened fire on one another. So the Commissioner's dad, a kind of community peacemaker who could turn a raucous pub-fight into a bear hug in less than two minutes, ran outside with a white flag. But for the first and only time in his life, the Commissioner's father failed to make peace: while the Brownshirts obliterated one another, a Nazi tank turned him into roadkill.

If his father's tragic death wasn't enough, the scrawny child soon suffered another calamity. Less than two years later, his mother became deathly ill. So to cover the cost of her medicine, the Commissioner got a job as a "cocoa bean boy" at the Goutendiva chocolate factory. For the next ten years, the "Commish," as he would become known later in life, toiled day-in and day-out, parlaying his position as lowly bean boy into the esteemed role of Vice President of Chocolate Affairs for Goutendiva. His mother, recognizing that her self-motivated boy had a knack for selling, managing, and marketing sugary substances, urged her son to leave Goutendiva. So at the age of 22, the Commissioner resigned and channeled everything he knew about cacao beans into his own chocolate business.

The Kaiju Commissioner worked tirelessly for the next seven years. When the Commissioner was 29, Die Fortuno Magazine declared him both "Dark Chocolate King" of Eastern Europe and the richest man in all of Austria. But such wealth and notoriety came at a price: the twentysomething worked 100-hour weeks and had no social life. After seven long years of living a cloistered, but extremely productive existence, the "Dark Chocolate King" burnt out: his complexion turned as dark as his product and his doctor said he wouldn't see the age of 30 if he didn't rest. So the Kaiju Commissioner relented, embarking on the first vacation of his life and his first step outside of Austria. The experience would change his life forever.

Although he was as rich as a Saudi Sultan, the Dark Chocolate King was as naive as a country boy. Wide-eyed, he visited both ends of the socio-economic spectrum: he traversed everywhere from the pretentious high-couture of Paris to the tribal homesteads of Africa. This intercontinental jaunt made him privy to injustice, misery, and famine. Until this trip, the Commissioner had guilelessly believed that his father was a victim of circumstance, but after witnessing inequality first-hand, the Commissioner realized that his father was a casualty in the never-ending struggle between good and evil, the haves and the have-nots, and war and peace.

Returning to his homeland, the Kaiju Commissioner defined his new mission in life as ending the miseries of the global society. He became a high-profile philanthropist and a steadfast spokesman for "the little guy." His international reputation for dogged determination served him well: he quickly secured a position as a UN peace dignitary. After serving four consecutive terms, he was nominated for the Nobel Peace prize for his work in war-torn Sierra Leone and became known as a leading expert on world peace.

Around this time, there was an intergalactic crisis brewing. Scattered throughout the galaxy was a monstrous mob of maniacal villains, menacing alien beasts, and giant, city-crushing monsters waging war against one another, their flared tempers and petty disagreements occasionally erupting into bouts of interstellar fighting. But within the last couple of years, monster rumbles had precipitated a record number of disasters on the planet earth: ruinous tornados, devastating earthquakes, geyser eruptions, and stock-market crashes. Until now, the transnational community had been able to keep the warring Kaiju a secret, blaming their catastrophes on Mother Nature and bad financial planning. But now, a covert task force of global leaders that furtively monitored monster mayhem recognized that something had to be done before it was too late. If the security council didn't act fast, the entire world would be destroyed.

So the most important security position in the history of the world was created: the Kaiju Commissioner. The obvious choice for the position was Austrian UN dignitary, his past experience as a CEO, manual laborer, and resolute peacemaker qualifying him for this most serious role. To this day, the Kaiju Commissioner is so crucial to world safety that his true identity must remain confidential: he only makes television appearances in silhouette. If Kaiju Commissioner doesn't do his job - or if civilization isn't careful - the entire world could get caught in the crossfire of the Kaiju Big Battel.

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