That’s right. It’s me, Space Godzilla, under this mask.

I can’t believe I made it this far without the judges guessing my identity. I thought for sure my 120-meter height would give me away, but the judges just said, “maybe he’s a basketball player” and never mentioned it again. I knew I was safe for a while longer when they guessed I was either Mariah Carey or Gary Busey.

I came on this show to reach a new audience. Kids these days barely know about regular Godzilla, let alone Space Godzilla. I’m not part of a fresh, sprawling cinematic universe and I don’t have a Funko pop in your local Target, but there has to be room for a B-list kaiju in the Gen Z lexicon. My back is covered in crystals and I know for a fact Tumblr users love that witchy shit. I shoot laser beams out of my mouth, which is just begging to be a meme. “Big mood,” am I right?

Some of my fans may have guessed who I was when I sang “Roar” by Katy Perry. No matter how much I practiced, I couldn’t hold in my signature screech once we got to the chorus. (Can’t apologize enough for the vocal coach I charred, by the way. Thoughts and prayers to his family.)

I understand missing the more obscure hints, like when I drank black coffee in the second clue package. Few would get the reference to the black hole that, by spewing radiation on Godzilla cells Mothra brought into space, led to my birth. It's also a reference to my all-night gaming sessions, a side of my personality few know about (other than my 246 subscribers on Twitch).

I chose King Kong as my costume because, as a society, we’ve begun to see the humanity in monsters—giant apes, vampires, Jenny McCarthy. I want everyone to see my side of the story, the beauty in the monster. I may have trapped Baby Godzilla in a crystal prison and demolished the city of Fukuoka, but I was so young—it was the ’90s! I’ve moved past all that, and I deserve to have 100 million Instagram followers, just like a Kardashian.

This experience has changed me, as a person and a monster. I learned never to give up, even when Robin Thicke said I was “definitely not a professional singer.” (Thanks, Robin. That hurt more than being hit with M.O.G.U.E.R.A.’s missiles.) The Masked Singer taught me that I can be whoever I want to be, regardless of how the world sees me. After all this, insults bounce right off my photon shield. Standing in front of you today, I feel lighter than I do in my crystalline flying form.

Thanks for all the love and support, y’all. Keep an eye out for my upcoming beauty tutorial on YouTube, where I’ll teach you how to get my signature radioactive glow. And be sure to follow me on Twitter, Insta, and Pinterest @sp4ceg0dzilla69!

Join upcoming November classes in Satire Writing, Sketch Writing, and Stand-Up Joke Writing.