101 – Senescence
in which Corin is given a crumpled piece of paper, Soundman Steven provides some sound advice, Junior discovers a softer side, we hear from Corin Deeth I, and The Magical Mister Lightbulb “wins” the RUin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.
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Intro: What you are about to hear is a Let’s PLay for a game that does not exist, has never existed and will never exist.
Hello and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries we help anybody and everybody to Do Evil Better. My name is Corin Deeth III, and I am the CEO. If you were listening last time, then I expect you are waiting with bated breath to know more about the offspring of Dana Govern. For those of you who are new, Dana Govern got a whole lot of gene modifications, did a bunch of weird things no one could explain, and finally exploded, leaving five strange infants in the wreckage. We’ve done some genetic testing on each of them, and they are heavily modified from a typical human. They are as of yet showing few of the signs of what we expect to see based on their genes. None of them have sprouted wings. Only one has the beginning of a tail. None of them are the color of coal. But we are watching with interest. I mean, would we have done any of this intentionally? It’s a little much even for us. But now that it’s happened? Let’s see what some crazy-modded babies do. Junior has been visiting these infants. When Grace is feeding them, she allows Junior to hold one and feed it from a bottle. It is a sight to see for sure. He’s just so large, but he handles something so small and delicate with such care. I can’t say that any of them really resemble him, but they each carry some of the same genetic markers that Junior has. You know, the ones the rest of us don’t have.
Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a malfunctioning fluorescent light. It’s the one that always bothers you, or perhaps it’s a new one you don’t remember having installed. All we know is that it is malfunctioning. It flickers occasionally, and the ballast is making a lot of noise. And that noise is now the sound of my voice, bringing you the information you require. This radio is coming to us from a collaboration between Finkel’s Fixtures and our Division of Deep Annoyance. The applications of this technology include reaching out to those who are most suggestible, and speaking to them when they least expect it, giving us some degree of control in their lives, or, at the very least, some minor chaos. The frequency range for these devices in your homes or wherever you typically get the announcements is greater than that in the production models because we care about you. I should also mention that these announcements are really only for our shareholders, and if you’re not a shareholder, then pay close attention to the rhythm of the flashing light.
After my last interaction with the Tabithas, I have been unable to stop searching for them. Perhaps I only find them when they mean to be found, but they can’t hide from me forever. I did find them again briefly. At least a few of them. One of them handed me a crumpled piece of paper, and another hit me with a small dart that knocked me out until they had left the meeting room. When I came to, I took a look at the paper in my hand. It had a combination for a safe scribbled on it. I checked with Valerie Von Voof from the Division of Figuring Out What All of These Keys Go To, but she insisted that they only dealt with physical keys, and not metaphorical keys or combinations. So I was on my own. After not figuring out what to do with the combination for a few days, someone I assume to be from the Tabithas broke into my office and left me a safe on my desk. I have moved the safe here into the recording studio because it seems to be time released. That is, I put in the combination an hour ago, and it has failed to provide me with any of the contents. If I lean in closely, then I can hear it doing some sort of work inside. I guess I will continue to wait. I will report if anything happens. In searching for the Tabithas, I found a dusty old meditation room that does not appear to have been used at all since the 70s, and another shrine to Pomlegod. I should probably look that up, but I haven’t yet. I just left it alone.
The theme for this year’s Festival of Somnambulation was Sick Stunts. Many years ago, we had the theme of cunning stunts, but we got in trouble for that one and changed the name. Anyway, we gave all of you padded equipment and helmets and let you pick your vehicle of choice. Many of you opted for the skateboards. Others opted for the bicycles. Others opted for the beat up old hatchbacks. And then in your dreamy state, you pulled off some incredible stunts. Huge jumps off of ramps. Flips. Balancing acts. Wheelies. All of it. And here’s the surprising part. We only had a single injury. It seems that in a state of sleepwalking, each of you are capable of amazing feats of skill and strength. You just talk yourselves out of it with your wakeful minds. The injury did require a full body transplant, but it was just the one injury.
The Festival of Fertility went off without a hitch this year. Ordinarily, we create some humanoid creatures to provide a little romance before doing the deed, but this year we went with something different. All of our guests looking for the top of the line Evil genes and/or another punch on their card toward that economy car were brought into the basement ballroom, which was painted white and filled with soft but bright lighting. At the appropriate time, we requested all of our guests look up toward the ceiling and stare into the comforting light. Then each guest felt a warm, knowing feeling deep inside. And that was it. Not to let our proud expecting mothers down without a feast of some sort, we brought in a bunch of catered sandwiches from the food court. It wasn’t the same as feasting on the flesh of a spunk homunculus, but I think everyone left pretty satisfied. The enigmatic experience of the conception left a lot of people feeling like something magical had happened, or perhaps something spiritual. When I asked the technician responsible for the technique how they achieved the effect, he simply said “jizz laser” and then walked away shrugging.
Coming up, we have the Celebration of Books, which will coincide with the release of a few new books from authors and divisions right here at Kakos Industries. That’s exciting. And then there’s also Halloween, I guess. I’m just kidding. It’s going to be incredible as always.
Shareholders, a tape has just been dispensed from inside the safe. It’s got one of those swing doors sort of like a vending machine, but much smaller. It doesn’t look like a format of tape that I am familiar with. Soundman, can you do something with this? Of course you can. I’m sorry for questioning you. Will you please play the tape? Yes, during the broadcast. No, I don’t know what’s on it. I don’t see the problem. Soundman, play the tape.
Corin Deeth I: I was, uh, just at the Division of Getting Down. They’re working on something new. Something that’s supposed to be really sexy. It’s like, I don’t know, just a jumble of bodies. You know, I’m not a prude. I’ve never been shy. I’ve never been ashamed of having my interests and experimenting. But I don’t get it. Maybe it’s just a new generation. What we did twenty, thirty years ago, they’re bored with that stuff. They’re looking for something new. And it’s… I don’t know. It just makes me feel really old, I guess. I’m not sure I could even hold the position for long enough. I mean, I’m strong. Almost freakishly so. But I have an issue with a nerve. What was so wrong with what we used to do, you know? Would people really not enjoy that now? Do they need these new positions? Does the difficulty of it make it more appealing? Maybe I’m not the right judge anymore. I went to the board and asked them for some young blood, but they refused the transfusion. I was really sure that would work. They recommended some other rejuvenation and anti-aging procedures, but I declined.
Corin Deeth III: Well, shareholders, I think you all know that was a recording of my grandfather’s voice. At least he wasn’t talking about drugs. What was the Division of Getting Down working on, I wonder? I can look to see in the archives. It seems they weren’t around for very long, getting dissolved only six months after being created. That’s the position? Everybody does that now. Huh. The safe is still chugging away. Maybe something else will drop. Thank you, Soundman.
Gray has disappeared. Those of you who are careful listeners might know Gray as that exceptionally beautiful member of the Damnation and Ruination Squad who was recently kicked out because all of us were paying them too much attention. As you know, sticking out and being seen as an individual is completely against the ethos of the Damnation and Ruination Squad. Gray has struggled with life on the outside after shedding all identity to become an agent of Evil and chance. We gave them a simple name without much character. But everyone is so obsessed with this person and the saga surrounding them, that it has been kind of an issue. So, when I say that Gray has disappeared, I don’t mean literally. I just mean that we can’t find them anywhere in the building, but we are certain that they have not left the premises. We know that they are somewhere, but where is impossible to tell at the moment.There are search teams, and there is also a reward for spotting Gray, but seeing Gray is currently the least sexy thing you can do. Kimzzzzzzzzzz, leader of the Cult of Ohh Ahh has made sure of that. She made a new decree just for this. To my knowledge, it’s the first such decree to mention a person by name. Other than the one that made being me the least sexy thing possible. Kimzzzzzzzzzz wants to make sure Gray has their privacy. It’s only right. It’s not fair being so inadvertently interesting.
Speaking of the Damnation and Ruination Squad, they are now wearing only icing and sprinkles. For some reason, the Wheel of Misery keeps dressing them in gels, liquids, and other sticky things. I don’t get it. At any rate, they spray themselves several times throughout the day to make sure they have enough icing, whipped cream, fondant, and rainbow sprinkles to keep them sufficiently covered from the elements. As someone who doesn’t like to let his hands stay dirty for more than a few minutes, it causes me great grief looking at them like this. It’s also creating a little bit of a cleanup problem. But this is how they work. We can’t really judge them too harshly for doing their job, strange as it is.
There is no news from Hell. That’s probably for the best.
Another tape has dispensed from the safe here. Same format. Soundman, would you please play it. What do you mean I got lucky on the last one? What could the tape possibly have on it? It’s just a tape. Play it.
Corin Deeth I: Okay, Tabs, make sure you get all of this on the recording. Ooh, yeah. I can feel it hitting. That DarkMegaCibin. I can feel it filling me with good ideas. New ideas. Fresh ideas. Young ideas. And it’s all Evil. So Evil. So dark. Oh yeah. Okay. Get ready, Tabs. Here comes the idea train. Pulling into the station at eleven thousand kilometers per hour. It’s going to let a bunch of great ideas off at the station. The station is my creative center. Oh yeah. Great ideas. Here they come. Oh yeah. Okay. Here we go. Here it comes. A kettle. Oh yeah. A kettle. But it gets too hot. It superheats water. That could cause burns. Ouch. Okay not a great idea, but that’s just the first one. We got more, Tabs. Oh yeah. Okay, here it comes, what about…. Music that’s too sexy? No, we’ve done that before. We’re still doing it. Okay. Thinking. Thinking. What the young people want. New Evil. Okay, it’s, like, a video game. But it’s addictive, Tabs. And it makes people do things. It plants ideas, and it makes people do things. Like they get used to playing the game and they want to make it real life. So they platform, Tabs. They get addicted to jumping on stuff. All the ruined furniture. The broken ankles. From all that jumping. They just can’t help but jump. And they jump on their friends’ heads. Ouch. Okay. Not quite working. We’ll workshop that one. Come back to it. Okay, I’ve got another one. Big brain wave. Size of the entire Universe brain. The cosmos is thinking through me, Tabs. It’s… A hat for your butt. A butt hat. Say it fast: butt hat! Why are you looking at me like that? Were your eyes always so large? Write down butt hat.
Corin Deeth III: There’s the drugs. I expected drugs and I was not disappointed. Who’s Tabs? Oh well. Let’s move on.
Jasmine Aashna and Dr. Dunkelwissen have been hounding me again at inopportune times. I went to a bar near the building here the other night and they both sat beside me and started some of the clumsiest flirting I have ever been on the receiving end of. It’s not that they aren’t both beautiful and interesting people, you know. Dunk is so distinguished, and Jasmine has the most endearing feature set. But I don’t like being experimented upon, you know? Like, they’re trying to get close to me so they can test out their hypothesis about what’s most sex. I don’t get it. There are tons of other more available people they could mix it up with. Why me? It’s like they just assumed it had to be me and never questioned where that assumption came from. I had a couple of drinks and I was a little frustrated so I shouted that they should maybe just test on each other. They both did that kind of too loud and too long laugh that tells everybody nearby that they’re trying to cover up for how they actually feel. They started sputtering a bunch of rational explanations for why that didn’t make sense. They’re coworkers, it’s inappropriate, scientists don’t experiment on themselves, and then simultaneously they said it would be way too hot. It was a loud bar. It’s possible I misheard them, but they both got really quiet after that. Jasmine finished her drink and left without another word. Dunk had another whiskey that he sipped in silence. Then he patted me on the back and left. For the record, I don’t love the idea of them getting together. We spend so much money on counseling coworkers on how to deal with one another after getting far too intimate. It’s a drag on resources. But I guess I was just tired of them trying to rope me into their experiments. There’s also a bit of an age gap there. I’m concerned that I’ve given them my blessing unintentionally. Oh well. It will probably be fine.
The Magical Mister Lightbulb has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result of this triumphant victory, The Good King Reginald will experience a life-ruining turn of events. I want to stress that this contest requires people’s real names to function correctly, so somewhere out there there’s a shareholder ID card that says The Magical Mister Lightbulb, with a photo of this human being. I cannot begin to conjecture what The Magical Mister Lightbulb’s friends must call him. The Good King Reginald is obviously not a shareholder, being good and all. We spun the Wheel of Misery with a firm but not overwhelming hand and it arrived on the space for unapologetic. From this day forward, King Reginald will be 87% less likely to apologize for anything, even those things that really need an apology. Arriving late to a date. Bumping into someone in line. Knocking a child into a well. This could be interesting. For Evil Measure, The Magical Mister Lightbulb with be 7% more likely to apologize for things that The Magical Mister Lightbulb did not do. Congratulations on the win, and best of luck.
They say that Evil has collected every pubic hair you have ever lost or removed intentionally, and has made an army of tiny hair gremlins to do its bidding. That’s a real fucking weird one. Like, not all of the hair from your body. No. Just your pubes I guess. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we are taking credit for pubic hair, moles, and our basic inability to accept ourselves and others for who we are. Of course, we can’t know for certain that we are responsible for these things, but we did do them. If you disagree or disbelieve then prepare to get way more pubes. What? That’s not a threat of violence. That’s just weird. Well, okay. We’re weird sometimes.
(motor whirring. Tape hits table)
The machine has just dispensed another tape. Soundman, if you would kindly do the honors. What are you so scared of? Just play the damn tape.
Melantha: Ha ha! I’ve interrupted your broadcast again, Corin.
Corin I: It seems you have, Melantha. Although, I’m not broadcasting. I’m actually just sitting down reading the newspaper. But I suppose it’s all the same to you.
Melantha: Is that a hint of bitterness I hear in your voice, Corin? Don’t tell me you’re still upset.
Corin: You didn’t have to make your own company, Melantha. You could have just come here. In time, I might have even split the duties of Kakos Industries CEO with you.
Melantha: I think it’s rather clear that our companies were heading in… different directions.
Corin: Kakos Industries into the future, your company into the past.
Melantha: That seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it? And why won’t you say the name?
Corin: Because it’s nether dialect, Melantha. No one has spoken that in centuries. We’re not even sure how it’s supposed to be pronounced.
Melantha: My scholars assure me that I’ve got it right. They used descriptions of how the words sounded written in other languages and made inferences from really old, dirty puns.
Corin: But why bother.
Melantha: Because it brings me closer to the ancients. That’s why.
Corin: The ancients. Who gives a damn about the ancients? They wrote a bunch of stuff down, but we know half of it is wrong.
Melantha: They knew more about Evil than you or I ever will!
Corin: You’re just after the promise of immortality. It’s a lie, Melantha. There’s no way to live forever. And why would you want to? We could have a life, Melantha. The two of us. Evil like no one has ever seen.
Melantha: Oh, shut up, you old fool. You don’t understand, do you? We’ve done it!
Corin: Done what?
Melantha: Doesn’t my voice have a nice youthful quality to it?
Corin: What are you talking about?
Melantha: We’ve done it, Corin. We’ve developed a technique. It uses all of the modern science. Everything we have available. But it works. The labs tell me I’m at least ten years younger.
Corin: I don’t believe you. I bet the labs will tell you anything you want to hear. There is no key to living forever.
Melantha: Oh, I don’t know, Corin. You see, I’m younger everywhere. Tauter. Tighter. Bouncier. The things I could show you, Corin. But I won’t.
Corin: Let’s say I believe you. What then? What does this really give you? More time?
Melantha: I will live forever, Corin. I will cultivate Evil. I will guide it over the centuries. I will be the <Awful noise>.
Corin: You’re making a mistake, Melantha. If the ancients taught us anything, it’s that we’re supposed to die. Just like they did. We make our modifications to Evil, write our names in the book, and then we pass it on to the next generation. We could enjoy ourselves in the meantime.
Melantha: that’s ridiculous, Corin. Why would you ever want to die?
Corin: Maybe we’re supposed to, Melantha. Maybe we’re not meant to live forever. We’re not perfect. Not by a long shot. If we live forever, then so do our ideas. Evil can never grow or change like that. There are parts of us that need to die out to make room for the future. Our old ideas. Our prejudices. You and I can’t be rid of them, but the next generation, they’ll never know them.
Melantha: What makes you think I can’t make my mind younger also? I can and will succeed.
Corin: It’s a mistake, Melantha. You’re overlooking what we could have together.
Melantha: I’m overlooking it? What if I’m offering you eternity?
Corin: As rivals? It’s not worth it. I’d trade an eternity for this one lifetime where we can be together.
Melantha: That’s so boring! Do you even realize how boring you sound? You really are getting older, Corin.
Corin: This is a mistake, Melantha.
Melantha: I finally heard that you’ve got a child. A monster. You’ve been keeping him from me.
Corin: Junior. I call him Junior.
Melantha: I hear he’s gigantic.
Corin: He’s still growing.
Melantha: He’s hideous, isn’t he?
Corin: He’s difficult. No one knows what to do with him. He’s too strong for his own good. And too smart. He’s fantastic, but he just doesn’t fit.
Melantha: Oh, this tastes so sweet, Corin. Don’t you see? I’m the mighty Zeus, and I’ve given re-birth to myself as Athena, perfect and beautiful. And in your jealousy, what do you do, Corin? You make Hephaestus, broken and unlovable. Because you’re Hera. Do you think you’ve gotten even with me?
Corin: Melantha, I don’t think we can come back from this.
Melantha: Not until you wisen up, old man.
Corin: Melantha… never mind.
Melantha: I’m off to a sex party. Goodbye, Corin!
Corin: Goodbye, Melantha.
Coring Deeth III: Huh. I suppose you’re right, Soundman. I could have kept that private. I’m going to refrain from commenting here.
That brings us to the end of the announcements, shareholders. You can destroy that fluorescent tube now. Or leave it alone. It should return to proper functioning in no time. And it probably won’t ever start whispering instructions to you. The numbers are next.
Credits: Kakos Industries is written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth, and the composer of the music. The introductions are read by Kitty McCauley, and the credits are read by Kelsey Kemmer the smooth jazz exercising champion. Special guest appearance in this episode by Kim Ai. Please visit KakosIndustries.com for news, extras, and more episodes. There are also transcriptions on the website if you’d like to read along with the Kakos Industries announcements. That’s K-A-K-O-S-I-N-D-U-S-T-R-I-E-S dot com. Please visit store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers and get wonderful benefits by becoming a subscription donor at kakosindustries.com/patreon. 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 YouTube (YouTube.com/KakosIndustries), Facebook (facebook.com/kakosindustries), Tumblr (kakosindustries.tumblr.com), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. Please visit our website for cast details and the credits for all of our social media contributors.
Special thanks to our esteemed shareholders Iain Croall, Dan Shumway, William Brandon, Leah Tedesco, Jack Attack, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Dorkpool Dorkuss, who filled in for the sick dancer in the vaudeville act, Chax Richter, who picked the lock on the gate after every single person forgot their keys simultaneously, and Chris Leclerc, who sent everyone an email reminder about the very important meeting and what we needed to prepare. And thanks to our division heads Britney Garcia, head of The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn, Patrick Green, head of The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology, Xavier Jarman, Director of The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying, Craig Czyz, director of the Division of Obscure Vintage Technology, Danniel R Smith, head of the Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases, and Hayley L, Director of the Division of Very Specific Boxes. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn have begun knitting a whole circus. Given the nature of circuses, we can’t imagine it will be all that safe. The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology has discovered microbial auras, but only under certain light to certain eyes. Their eyes, it would seem. The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying believe that they have contacted some of their fallen members. The fallen members have only spoken in riddles and fart jokes, though. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has put the old electric mummifier on display in their division. It is something to see, but it is best not to get too close lest your brain be scrambled. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases has prepared a memo for everyone in the building suggesting an ideal number of breaths per minute. It improves efficiency around .03%. The Division of Very Specific Boxes has developed a box that will perfectly fit your hand should you ever decide to ship your hand or pack it away. While it’s still attached. Our esteemed shareholders, honored employees, division heads, and other Patreon patrons are the best. If you want a thank you in the credits, your own division, or other great rewards that help to keep this show running, please head to Kakosindustries.com/patreon. That’s Patreon: p-a-t-r-e-o-n.
Kakos Industries can be heavy sometimes. Try wheat paste as a new hobby.