in which we recap the Shareholders’ Ball, things begin to stack up on the lawn, Junior has some choice words for Corin, Meredith is preparing for something, we hear a strange tape from Corin Deeth I, and Tony Jackets “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.

Transcription:

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Intro: What you are about to hear is a war chant from a far off alien species that are very much on their way. 

Hello and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries, we help our clients big and small, wide and narrow, tall and short, brilliant and dim, immune to radiation and not, to Do Evil Better. I am CEO of Kakos Industries, Corin Deeth III. Shareholders, you might be wondering what went on with that whole ransom thing. Well, everything that we were asked for is still sitting on the lawn here at Kakos Industries. Just out there in front of the building. Rotting. Getting rained on. None of it has disappeared. We’ve had some people try to steal stuff, but we stopped them. All I can say is that efficiency is back to normal and Evil is back up. Perhaps it’s some sort of sacrifice. We take these worldly possessions and we relinquish them. And then we gain new Earthly rewards. The printer still occasionally prints demands. We’ll go a couple of days with no word, then suddenly it demands a bag of puffed cheese snacks from the vending machine on the 13th floor and someone has to run off and get them, or things start to droop. Then the bag gets added to the pile outside and things go back to normal. No one ever eats the snacks. No one ever collects the money. No one has come by claiming to be responsible for the ransom. The stuff just stacks up. We’ll be digging a hole soon to keep the pile from growing to be unmanageable, and to keep some of the more concerning elements of the pile from drawing attention. At first I found this process frustrating, but now I kind of like the ritual of it. It gives a certain element of confidence. That If we do this stupid thing once in a while, then it’s likely Evil and efficiency will stay up. No one knows exactly what’s happening, and we may never, though we do have some scientists working on it. Not because they were assigned to this problem, but instead because they can’t figure it out, and it doesn’t operate by obvious physical principles, so they have taken it somewhat personally. I look forward to their results. It is concerning, but the results are hard to argue with.

I know that all of you out there have been looking forward to using the new GamePerson Extreme handheld gaming device. Many of you were planning on waiting in line for hours to get one on the first day. And then, without warning, one showed up through your incoming projectiles window today. Can Kakos Industries really be so generous? you thought. Can this be real. And what’s this, it was packaged with the launch title with the anime boys you were so excited to play. What a fantastic day this was shaping up to be. You plugged in the game, switched on the GamePerson, and began receiving these announcements. This might seem like a dirty trick, but I assure you it’s not. These units were defective and the manufacturer, a long-time client of ours we cannot name, only heavily imply, decided to give us the defective units for this project. The game cartridge itself is part of the antenna, and does not contain any anime boys at this time. I can feel the disappointment and the sadness welling up within you. You will have to wait in line instead. I apologize for this inconvenience, but please know that it was all for the greater Evil and your suffering is not in vain. Soon you will have the real device and this device will be a distant memory. And the sound of my voice is a worthy consolation prize, is it not? If you’re not a Kakos Industries shareholder and you’re hearing these announcements right now, then I regret to inform you your unit will begin functioning as designed in a few moments, and you have the beta version of this game with even more irresistible anime boys. You will not be going anywhere for awhile, or ever again. Unless you do something really, really Evil. Game on.

We’ve been trying to figure out who got all of the really hot genes at the festival of genes a while back, and it’s not as clear cut as we had hoped. We’ve narrowed it down to three. There’s Alvin Chikless who now has the squarest jaw and most dazzling eyes we’ve seen. There’s also Monica Walden, who has this infectious smile and a rear end that seems to bend space time. There’s also H.P. Orgleson with just that glow about them. All three individuals are seriously distracting and dangerous in many situations, but only one of them actually got the hot genes. The others are just lucky, or maybe they only got a few of the hot genes. They’re all kind of boring, though. Like, to talk to. The entirety of their value is in their appearances. Which one of them is really hot, though. Like objectively. Who got the genes. None of them were this hot before. We will continue investigating. 

The Shareholders’ Ball was outstanding, as always. You were all fitted in the finest black tie attire. Suits, pantsuits, gowns, and all other manners of incredibly fancy, high fashion pieces were adorning all of your undeserving bodies. You all glowed and shone just as brightly as the luminescent chandeliers and glittering silverware. Indeed, some of us needed eye protection to keep from being blinded by just how reflective and opulent everything was. There were grand entrances. Names were announced as you entered. Then you were given a mask. Why? Because they add to the Evil. Masks are always Evil. I’m claiming them right now. I can’t think of a single use of a mask that isn’t Evil. We sat around grand tables covered in incredible and guilt-ridden culinary experiences. Small birds stuffed to the brim with DarkMegaCognac and grain. Large birds stuffed to the brim with DarkMegaCognac and grain. Boars and cows stuffed to the brim with DarkMegaCognac and grain. We gorged ourselves on the fattiest of livers and the fattiest of inhumanely sourced vegetarian liver substitutes. And when we felt like we might have been filled to the brim with DarkMegaCognac and grain, the dancing began. The Kakos Industries Horrorchestra began playing music, and without any question, the first dancers rose, knowing it was their time. All of you had rehearsed completely alone, other than the instructors, so it was a leap of faith beginning the routines not knowing what your fellow performers were going to do and how it might augment and enhance your actions. Your moments of rest were filled with skillful and impressive feats from your fellow dancers. They formed sculptures made from human bodies just in time for you to knock them down. Or you found yourself resting on the ground with arms and legs in the air just in time to catch a flying dance partner. How they must have rehearsed the jump is still a mystery to most of us. As pieces of music ended, dancers returned to their seats and new dancers emerged, hearing the first few notes of their songs. New incredible routines were performed. Each routine, unbeknownst to all of you, was designed to draw blood from each of its participants. Whether it was a move with a partner that was just slightly miscalibrated, or a sharp three-inch heel landing a few inches too short, or a sharpened nail or piece of jewelry, each of you was certain to bleed by the end of your performance. While unknown blood is and should be a concern for all of us, we took precautions to sanitize this blood, making it safe for us to party over. However, it did become much slipperier by the end. What those dancers were not aware of was how much of their dancing was intended to be slippery. They found their maneuvers lining up perfectly, despite slipping three feet beyond their intended destinations. The end of the performance featured all of us once again on our feet, even yours truly, performing a dance routine that must be experienced from the inside. As we concluded, the feeling of triumph moving through the crowd was incredible. I heard some screams of joy before we were all doused in blood from the rare caramel yak. Then, it was on. I’ve been starved for attention from the Tabithas, recently, so I wasn’t even all that afraid that they might find me in that vulnerable, sensuous moment. All the same, I don’t think I encountered a single one. As always, Kakos Industries shareholders are a group of patient and thorough lovers, and the world at large does not deserve you.

There’s never a great way to follow up the Shareholders’ Ball. It is extreme, and it is untoppable. All the same, we made time for the Festival of Restraint. This meant a variety of things to the Division of Dionysia, which makes me think that they couldn’t make up their minds in the meetings that led up to the festivities. As people entered the building, they were filtered based on their general comfortability with restraint and funneled into different spaces. Along one wall, there was a buffet featuring the finest and most desirable pastries and sweets. None of them were to be touched, and violating this rule would result in a variety of punishments. In another section, shareholders and employees were tied up and suspended before being tormented with paddles and feathers. In another section, a few people were just taped to a wall. It was kind of terrifying. The adhesives were so strong that they couldn’t get free no matter how much they struggled. The really scary part is that it’s not like we’ve never accidentally forgotten people in situations like that before. For days. Or weeks. Or years. A few other people were completely encased in goo. It was tough to get free for sure. One way or another, we all restrained, or were restrained, and a few people really, really liked it. 

Coming up, we have The Celebration of Affirmation and the Big Black Hole Celebration. Fun times. 

DOEOR part 1

I’ve got my phone on silent, but it looks like Junior called me and left a message. This might be important. It’s almost certainly not, but it could be important. I had better check it.

Junior: Ah, Corin Deeth III, your imbecility is immeasurable. Your ignorance is unsurmountable. Your weakness to your basest appetites is legendary. Your entire existence is merely a spitty whisper of the word Evil into the uncaring abyss. Your elbows are pointy, and your nipples are off center, you grotesque excuse for humanity. Your sadness is hysterical. Your greatest moments are boring. You’re a butter ball bitch. A big butt bitch. A barnacle boat bitch. A bowling ball bitch. Hmmm, I detect that one of the little ones needs something so I have to go. I will pick this up later. Toodle pip.

Corin: Thanks, Junior. Love you, too. 

The workers in Hell have been getting augmented more and more lately. Monster arms, monster legs, monster heads, even monster internal organs. This is concerning because the situation in Hell doesn’t seem to warrant this level of preparation. Perhaps Meredith Gorgoro knows something that we do not. Perhaps there is something else coming and the people in hell  need to be prepared. Or perhaps she is just trying to perfect the physical form by any means necessary. 

DOEOR part 2

I saw one of the Tabithas go down a hallway and I gave chase. I followed her into what I believed was an office. It was instead a laboratory. An old one by the looks of it. No equipment. Empty. But there was something familiar about it. There was a tape hanging from a string in the center of the room. This is the recording.

(tape click, tape hiss)

Corin I: Okay, Tabs. Listen up. This is really important. You have no idea how important this is. I need you to listen to every single word and remember it perfectly. Monday, roast beef, horseradish, lettuce, mild tomato, au jus, French bread. Tuesday, tuna salad, celery, green onion, generous mayo, horseradish, sourdough. Wednesday, tri-tip, barbecue sauce, caramelized onions, french fries, baguette. Thursday, coffee, the blue pills, the pink pills, and a green one if I’m feeling groovy. Friday, fish and chips. Saturday, 77230099. Sunday, 77230100. Monday, black holes. Tuesday, the Milky Way. Wednesday, an ion storm, Thursday, almond butter, honey, blackberry jam, rye bread. Friday, X-N-V-L-L-7.

(tape click)

Corin III: I don’t know what any of that means. I’m sure I just launched a missile somewhere. Or opened a hidden closet full of drugs. 

The Division of Figuring Out What All of These Keys Go To still hasn’t opened the lock on the chest in the middle of Lake Zyzerzil, but they did find a gold fist shaped lock at Lake Wyverwil, so the search has become more intense. I’m way less curious about the fist now that I know it probably opens a door. Wait, this isn’t a mystery box situation, is it? Also, what happens if I break open the chest. I’m not a member of The Division of Figuring Out What All of These Keys Go To. I’m not bound by their laws. I can break it right open. I assume. I’ll need a hammer, I bet. 

I visited the Division of Erotic Experiences recently. Dr. Dunkelwissen and Jasmine Aashna are back to work, though I’m not sure I would call their new system work, exactly. They’ve set up huge tanks of water in a cavern just below their offices. Even if you know what floor of the building their offices are on, it doesn’t make sense that there are caverns below, but there they are. I am told that, if the experimental couples in the upstairs areas discover what is most sex by accident, particles let off by their actions will register in the water tanks. Just to make sure, I asked if they were looking for what is most sex, and not dark matter or neutrinos. Dunk assured me the two lines of inquiry are very similar. So they’ve just got a bunch of people in experimental rooms banging it out, and domes above them focus the sex particles down into the reservoirs. There’s heavy metal music playing as well. I’m not too sure about this one. Also, Dr. Dunkelwissen took Jasmine’s mother out on a date. Jasmine went too, to make sure things went smoothly. That must have been awkward. Dunk has told me he might have a “nephew or something” to set Jasmine up with. Those were his words. “Nephew or something.” 

I found the meeting for the discarded Damnation and Ruination Squad members and I sat in. All are welcome, but I cannot discuss the specifics of what I learned. Gray may have been there. Or maybe not. It seems that the Damnation and Ruination Squad have a lot of unspoken rules, and a lot of customs that are difficult to describe in words. Some people made mention of “the sniff”, but I do not believe that it is a literal sniff. Not with the nose, at least. I understand that it is a form of greeting. Or a show of neutrality. Then there’s what they call The Slang. They could not effectively communicate at all what that was, whether it was language or something else. What happened next I was specifically forbidden from talking about, although I will say one of their rules is not to talk about the sex stuff. Leaving the meeting early, I found Kimzzzzzzzzzz looking wistfully through a gap in the blinds. I touched her shoulder. She dug the fingernails on her left hand into my arm until I moved away. Still not cool, I guess.

The current members of the Damnation and Ruination Squad are wearing tennis ball fuzz fur coats. They’re predictably bright greenish yellow. They lack even the gaudy elegance of flaunting dead animal skins. Just gnarly.

DOEOR part 3

Evil once cut the heads off of all of the parking meters, and ate five thousand eggs in a sitting. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we’re taking credit for for-profit prisons, endless debt, and the fact that we haven’t really benefited all that much from the increase in automation and efficiency.  As always, we cannot actually know things for one hundo, but we’re pretty sure this stuff is all us. If you disagree, you might benefit a little less from automation, and you might learn a little bit more about the prison industry.

Tony Jackets has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, Tony’s nemesis will experience a life-ruining twist of fate. That nemesis is Lexical Anders. We spun the wheel of misery with a lethal amount of force and it arrived on the space for Dull. From this day forward, Lexical will have no shine, no spark, no interest. Lexical will be 33% more dull. And for Evil measure, Tony will be much shinier. Primarily in the sense of reflecting light. Congratulations on the win, and best of luck.

This brings us to the end of our broadcast. The GamePerson handheld unit will need to be destroyed. Do not attempt to find the code for the game with the anime boys deep within the file system. Do crush it all under foot and do your best to forget about it. Any other actions will be hazardous to your health. The numbers are next.

11

47

65

9

098

444

567

3

77

87

56

11

788

99

03

455

6

3

4

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 Briauna Kittle, a half-owl thundermonk. 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. You can submit one time donations at paypal.me/kakosindustries. You can also purchase gear and other items for the production at kakosindustries.com/wishlist.  Questions, comments, or a strong desire to collaborate? Drop us a line at inquiries@kakosindustries.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), Instagram (@kakosindustries), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. 

Special thanks to our esteemed shareholders Iain Croall, Dan Shumway, William Brandon, Jack Attack, Kristina Kirkland, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Dorkpool Dorkuss, who whacked the mole, Chax Richter, who sank the basket, Tia Reece, who got the hole in one, and Luci Grimm, who caught the line drive. 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, Craig Czyz, director of the Division of Obscure Vintage Technology, Danniel R Smith, head of the Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases, Lillian Bit, Director of the Division of Fishticism, and Matthew Oparin, Director of the Division of New Cowboy Slang. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has hidden so many Evil knit clowns we’re all a little on edge. We keep finding them, thinking that there won’t be any more, but then there are.  The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has restored the old pain canner. It allows you to put pain in a can. We have ways of doing that now, but this is the old one. It’s attached to a chair with some uncomfortable ridges, and a few other antagonistic attachments. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases has attempted to schedule bathroom breaks for all employees, using their usual habits as a guide, and then shifting their schedules slightly to more evenly use the facilities. It’s saved about three seconds per employee per day, and only made one person just fucking quit their job. The Division of Fishticism has noticed some strange behavior among the angelfish in the yellow-2 tank. Their formation suggests a “coming storm”. We are unsure if this is literal or metaphorical, or what it might mean as a metaphor. The Division of New Cowboy Slang has created “Andy Moose”.  It apparently means taking a nice stroll with a friend. Andy Moose, pardner? 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 dark. Try cutting up some cardboard to relieve frustration.