What you are about to hear will lead you to invent the next biggest innovation in marketing solutions.
Hello and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. As always, I am Corin Deeth III, CEO of Kakos Industries, and the only voice of reason in a world that makes no fucking sense ever. We are still holed up in Junior’s lair, shareholders. And to make things worse, it seems that Lady Kiarawa’s forces have finally found us. Or perhaps they have just decided to take advantage of knowledge they’ve had all along. I don’t know. But they’re outside. So far, we’ve narrowed the entries down to five doors. The one that Dr. Dunkelwissen entered from last time has disappeared, making me think it’s some sort of wormhole device. Sometimes I wonder where that man’s allegiances lie. We’ve reinforced all of those entries, but it has become clear that we are now trapped here. With limited food, water, air, and people we have yet to have sex with. It would appear that we have moved right past the skirmish phase and directly into a battle of attrition. At the moment, we are merely doing our best to keep the enemy forces at bay. Some of us are chipping out stone from the cavern walls to block the doorways. Others are welding sheets of metal into protective structures. Others are lounging around, casually commenting on how they wouldn’t even know where to begin to help so they’ll just stay out of the way. If you can’t hear any of that, then you have Soundman Steven to thank. He made a daring move to the company parking lot and picked up his portable sound booth. It was too much to carry the last time we made it to his vehicle, but he kept complaining about noises. I can assure you that a whole lot of work is going on around us right now, though. All the same, we’ll need to do something drastic soon or we’re in trouble. I’ve considered giving everyone in the cavern just enough unfinished business so that I can blow the whole place up and we’ll all remain as poltergeists to haunt Kiarawa. I mean, we’ve never been able to prove that ghosts exist, but it’s an option, right? I am being told it is not. Oh well.
You are receiving this broadcast from Shareholders’ Emergency Radio Receiver System 3 ½. Hmm… what could that mean? Previously, we knew that there could be any number of emergency radios, but at least we felt confident that those numbers would be whole numbers. What next, negative numbers? Imaginary numbers? Previously undefined irrational numbers? We never do anything half-assed here at Kakos Industries, maybe with the exception of half-assed wednesdays, which is what we call wednesdays, but this radio system is really confusing. Just what sort of infinite set are we dealing with here, guys? I think I can live with it, though. For those of you who are unable to see this radio making the sounds for you at this time, it is a mason jar with a speaker built into the lid. I am told that the sound may remind you of your grandmother’s lemonade. Or perhaps a sun tea on a warm day. Or that time you tried to make probiotic pickles at home and were forced to choke down swamp water to save face. The sounds may be glassy, but they are still of the highest quality. When this broadcast is over, you may use the jar to catch fireflies. Assuming you live somewhere with fireflies. Otherwise, you can put some LEDs in the jar. You might need a battery. Or you can just chuck the jar at a wall nearby to get some of your frustration out. That might be good too. It’s pretty obvious we’ve got some frustration to get out.
Shareholders, I’ve been informed that it is time for the Darkest Universe once again. Now, I cannot guarantee there will be a celebration for Dark Friday this year, but we can sure do our part to make this the Darkest Universe. But, Corin! I hear you thinking. Isn’t it pretty obvious that this is the Darkest Universe? The forces of the better Evil are being beaten down by the forces of a lesser Evil. Pain and suffering are ubiquitous. Surely our work is done! SIlly shareholders. Our work is never done. Even if we are in the darkest Universe, we still have the opportunity to make it even darker. To make it more Evil. Choosing the Darkest Universe is rarely over so quickly. While I would argue that we’re in a pretty dark spot here, and again we’re in danger of multiplying two negative numbers to make one of those other numbers, we can go darker. Unfortunately, I was unable to supply any of you with the photograph of the gentleman we will be wishing dead today. Instead, I’ll have to give you a description. His name is Henrik and he is currently working hard at reinforcing our perimeter. One of our supporters? you may be asking. Yes. There is no other way. We have to look him in the eye while we wish him dead. The pressure has already caused some among us to vomit. The description: Henrik is around six-foot-six. He is broad of shoulder and muscular. He has a strong jaw and kind eyes. He has short hair combed to one side. He carries with him a sense of duty and honor. And also a big hammer, which he is using to chip away at the walls and use the stone to reinforce things. Near him, several women and at least one man are fanning themselves to keep the lust at bay. One of our older employees has passed out from seeing him work so hard. You see, he removed his shirt maybe an hour ago, and he is perhaps one of the few people down here who somehow found the time to maintain his shaving habits. That is to say he is smooth of chest. Kind eyes, noble spirit, halcyon of Evil. Now wish him dead. He’s too fucking perfect. It makes you sick. No one should be blessed as he is, even if he chooses to use those blessings for the betterment of Evil. Take him down, shareholders. I don’t see him changing one bit. He’s still working away. Your best hatred isn’t doing anything! You’ll have to hate harder. Harder. We’ll return to this.
Last you heard from me, we had the Celebration of Wallowing in Self Pity coming up. I decided that was an awful idea, so instead, we had the Celebration of Wallowing in Self Party. Again we hit the music and let loose, but this time in a much more self-centered way. We danced with ourselves, by ourselves, for ourselves. Other may have watched, but they were far from the goal of what we were doing. I let Soundman Steven pick some of the music this time around. It was introverted, and intellectually stimulating, and it made around half of the employees here shout angrily until we turned it off. I have apologized to Soundman, but we had to go back to the more ear-friendly, mainstream tunes. He hasn’t been quite the same since. Well, there’s another thing, but I’ll get to that later. Anyway, we danced, and we wallowed. And we partied. We’ve all been locked down here for so long it’s starting to feel like a weird family. We’ve gotten to know each other. We’ve seen each other in our underwear. We’ve fought. And we’ve conceived at least one child. We don’t know whose it is. Father or mother. It’s complicated. Anyway, the celebration seemed to get everyone into better spirits. At least until this onslaught began.
The Division of Dionysia, which seems to be made up of only a handful of people here in Junior’s Lair, has determined that the next celebration will be The Blood Sacrifice to Literally Any Deity that’s Listening or In the Neighborhood. I’m curious to see where they go with this one, so I’m not cancelling it now. After handing me this note, the man who has been giving me these updates on the celebrations just sort of laid himself over my lap. He still there. Sobbing lightly. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with him, so I’ve just been ignoring him. That’s probably for the best.
I am told that Lady Kiarawa did attempt the Festival of Adorableness. Last year, I was dressed up. And made up. I was made to be pretty. Adorable even. I could only imagine what they would do to Kiarawa in this situation. She still only dresses in black against her pale skin. Her makeup is largely black. She’s as close to monochromatic as human beings come. That might be something to work on. Monochromatic people. Anyway, I am told that they made her wear brightly colored clothing, and painted her face in a variety of lively shades. Her hair was dyed and curled and I am told it was adorable. She was made to do adorable things. Pictures were taken. Photographers were disemboweled. I have not yet seen the pictures, but I am told they are exceptional. I am glad that she is attempting to keep these festivals alive. If only for this embarrassment. I wonder if she will attempt to secure the Darkest Universe herself. Do you think… do you think that I might be the target? I don’t feel an exceptional amount of Evil thoughts. I don’t feel any hatred. This is something to keep an eye on for sure.
I just watched Henrik catch another of our workers as he started to fall from a scaffold. Henrik is beyond helpful, it’s true. When I told him he would be the target of our Darkest Universe ritual, he merely nodded with understanding. There was no fight. That is the kind of team player he is. Now, I want you to think about that in comparison with things you’ve done lately. You haven’t lived up to the Henrik standard, have you? You haven’t been such a team player ever in your life. You’ve never had so much to give. Wouldn’t it be easier for you if the Henrik standard didn’t exist? If Henrik didn’t exist? Take him out of the equation, shareholders. Send him your hatred. Crumble him under the pressure. Are you even trying, shareholders? You haven’t slowed him one bit. We need more hatred! More! More! We’ll come back to this.
Ah, it looks like Kiarawa’s forces poked a hole in the wall. There was a little fight, but it looks like our people have it covered. They’re bringing in the boiling oil and the cement mixer. We’ll get this taken care of. Junior has retreated to a corner of his lair here. I don’t think he likes what we’re doing to it at all. But we have no choice.
Brosephus, Junior, myself, Soundman Steven, and a few others undertook the task recently of beginning a tabletop RPG adventure. Brosephus is new to leading these sorts of events, but I am told it was covered in his training. My character is a half-giant-half-dwarf mage with a penchant for killing any characters that resemble Kiarawa in any way without hesitation. This was irksome for one of our players who had made a warrior woman thing who, by some standards, did resemble Kiarawa, and also for the other players that kept reviving her character so she could continue to play with us. I had some important venting to do. Soundman Steven decided to play as a Monk of the Order of the Ear, and Junior selected a human. That’s, I suppose, a big enough change for him. He’s not playing as himself or anything. We fought some monsters and got some loot. I’m looking forward to playing again. I particularly like the part where I get to kill characters that remind me of Kiarawa. That makes me feel good.
It looks like Kiarawa’s forces have poked through again. No, wait. Stop! Let them though! Oh, my Evilness. Can it really be? The Division of Mining and Tunneling! How many years has it been! They’re back shareholders! They’re finally back! How amazing! I can’t believe this! For those of you too young to remember, the Division of Mining and Tunneling were doing their job many years ago when… they just didn’t come back. They got lost, or they decided to push on through. Who knows. But… it looks like they’re back finally! What are the odds of that! The other employees down here are hugging them and welcoming them. Perhaps we can use their tunnels to get out of here. Or perhaps we could use their tunnels to get lost and starve to death. We’ll have to think about it for sure.
Kiarawa has continued to look for things I love to destroy and hurt me. Her newest attempt… is Soundman Steven, my most trusted ally here at Kakos Industries. She has done him no harm, exactly, but I am told that the studio we record in above has been… completely dismantled and sold at a yard sale for much less than it’s worth. Soundman has been… taking it pretty hard. Some of the gear was custom, I am told. Some of the gear he modified himself with a soldering iron and higher quality capacitors. Some things were one of a kind. We will make it through this, Soundman. We’ll get you new gear. With even bigger knobs. And analog level displays. Only the best. He has dried his eyes for now.
So… Kimmie came into my tent the other night. I’m not usually one to kiss and tell, mind you, but… it was weird. I left none of my tricks in the bag, and let me say that none of it pierced the sadness in her heart. We all loved Kimmie and Maggie as a unit, but perhaps we didn’t realize how much they loved themselves as a unit as well. I honestly wasn’t expecting her to visit me at all, seeing how weird I was about them as a couple, but it seemed that I was perhaps the only person left in the cavern with that new partner smell. She’s not a cuddler. At least not right now. This series of events transpired maybe a day after we all got another photograph from Lady Kiarawa. In the foreground of the photo, we could see just her twisted smile. In the background over her shoulder, we could see the naked forms of Maggie and someone I assume to be Hailey looking pretty satisfied in bed. Again, incredibly hot photo if you’re into that sort of thing, which I am, but also the emotional equivalent of getting punched in the gentleman’s region over and over again. I’m sure you can adapt that metaphor to your anatomy.
Remember last time how I talked about having an ally among the exctopode? Well, it appears that one of the exectopode (again, I’m not good with their faces or whatever you call them) was nailed to an eight-pointed asterisk-type thing made from wood, and was put on display in the lobby of the building. I have no way of knowing if that was the particular exectopus that supported our cause, or merely a reminder that Kiarawa will do anything, but it seems to have dried up our support, at least for the time being. Possibly literally. They need to stay wet, those exectopode. I am told that they have already picked a successor from among their ranks.
The members of the Division of Incredibly Boring Things who made the poor decision to remain above during this conflict have been fired from a cannon into the unfriendly lake near the Kakos Industries main branch. In all likelihood, they were impaled on any number of rusted metal objects stored within the waters there. It could have been old office equipment, that boat we sank, the old mining equipment from when the lake was actually a mine, or any of the animatronic horrors we’ve thrown out over the years. Really, if you’re grossed out by rusting metal underwater, then this is definitely not the place for you to be. We really won’t know if there were survivors until this conflict is over, assuming that we do survive it. Oh, I forgot about the sea monsters. There’s also sea monsters in there. Really, you’re not even supposed to get close to it, let alone get into the water. Well, best of luck to them.
There is no word from Dr. Dunkelwissen or Helena. Helena is in the best hands she can be, though. Henrik looks like he’s weakening, shareholders. I’m proud of you. You’re taking him down a peg, just like he deserves. Who does he think he is, being so damn helpful? So damn good-for-Evil? He’s fallen. He’s on the ground. I’m told he was weakened from the start by giving too much blood to our injured. He’s the universal donor, shareholders. Women and men are now huddled around him, offering him cold water and warm bosoms. We can’t let up, shareholders. We can’t give in now. It’s our only hope at the Darkest Universe. No. He’s getting up, shareholders. He’s on his knees now. I’m beginning to think you don’t want Henrik dead. I’m beginning to think you don’t want the Darkest Universe. Is that it, huh? You don’t want this? Then fine. I guess Henrik gets to live because you can’t hate someone who’s so helpful to Evil. Stop wishing him dead. Let him do what he does. Let him save all of us. There. He’s getting back to work. Whatever, shareholders. Whatever.
In regards to the Ruin-A-Life Drawing, the Damnation and Ruination Squad is down here. They’re not talking to anyone who isn’t on their team. They’re wearing tan jumpsuits, balaclavas, and animal masks. They’re doing some sort of ritual where they jump around, then they do yoga poses, and then they take turns dry-humping one another. It seems pretty damn equitable, but on the other hand, it is frightening and possibly the least erotic thing I have ever seen. Just rubbing canvas on canvas. We can all hear it.
Well, shareholders, I think that will have to bring us to the end of this broadcast. Kiarawa’s forces are pushing hard. We will either have to make our stand here, or follow the miner’s tunnels to who knows where. I will end the broadcast now to make things easier on your ears.
Corin: Oh, it looks like Junior’s poked his head in our booth here. What’s up?
Junior: I just wanted to say… that I always thought of us as family.
Corin: Oh. That’s sweet of you to say Junior. Me too.
Junior: And also, 176.
Corin: Good choice. Until next time, shareholders.
Kakos Industries is written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth. The music is also composed by Conrad Miszuk. The introduction is read by Kim Aiello, and the credits are read by Hanna Jones, who is currently listening to polka on vinyl. Check out KakosIndustries.com for more episodes. There’s also transcriptions if you’d rather read the Kakos Industries announcements. That’s K-A-K-O-S-I-N-D-U-S-T-R-I-E-S dot com. Please check out store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers. Questions, comments, or a strong desire to collaborate? Drop us a line at email@example.com. If you like Kakos Industries, be sure to rate and review us on your favorite podcasting service, and connect with us on Facebook (facebook.com/kakosindustries), Tumblr (kakosindustries.tumblr.com), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries).
If you’re feeling down after this broadcast, have you considered getting a nice stereo and listening to anything else?