You've never met an artist like the appropriately monikered Kiska Zilla. That's because Ms. Kiska is like some crazy figment of the still somewhat immature (male) imagination. A haunting phantasm returned from some ancient, afternoon daydream. You know. The kind of chick that even the above average type guy couldn't begin to imagine actually exists. So he sends his mind off pacing into the sometimes-visited confines of the Make-A-Dreamgirl® workshop to make her up himself. And while standing before the dry erase board at M-A-D, said above average guy's mind marks out an outline that gradually becomes fleshed out into a slim, hoodie wearin' honey with tattoo-inked arms. A very odd sort of woman who treasures comic books and who adores Japanese daikaiju flicks. One who intricately doodles rifle-carrying Care Bears and crazed scientists in her "sketchbook of doom". And who can bomb the crap outta' warehouse walls with gorgeous graffiti. A creature as seemingly fictitious to our existence as a #@$%ing unicorn. An artist like the distressingly real Kiska Zilla. A talent too monstrously cool to be true.