108 – Amity
in which we read a book, not a whole lot happens, there’s a Wow moment, and Arthur Noland “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.
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Intro: What you are about to hear is going to take your mind off of whatever is going on for about 20 minutes or so.
Hello, and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries, we help our clients, our giants, our defiants, our perspirants, and our tyrants to Do Evil Better. I am CEO, Corin Deeth III. Shareholders, you probably won’t find this too difficult to imagine, but Kakos Industries has not had a whole lot going on just recently. Working from home is surprisingly efficient when your employees have literally nothing else to do. We’ve met certain goals, we’ve finished certain projects, and after some time to binge whatever Internet media is their preferred Internet media, the employees come back to us looking for more to do. Indeed, these are painfully exciting, and excruciatingly boring times we live in. Perhaps these announcements will help to alleviate that boredom, at least for a minute.
These announcements are coming to you today from a can of beans you just opened. Perhaps you were looking for sweet sustenance, but instead you received these announcements. As the beans inside of the can slowly settle and offgas, my words are emerging. I am told that the sound quality on this device is “gloopy” and kind of “icky”, but nonetheless high quality. I am told the sound is not at all warm, but somehow still saturated. At any rate, you are hearing me, and that’s what’s important. This can of beans comes from a collaboration between our Division of Preparedness and their client What the Hell Do We Do with All of These Beans, Inc. Their motto, in case you’re curious is “We accidentally bought all of these beans with the last of our money and now what the fuck are we going to do. Harold, you fucked us. You really fucked us. How could you. They’re not even magical. And you spent a lot more than one cow.” Glad we could help them out of their dire straits. Though I assume we used their desperation as leverage to get the best possible price. These announcements are strictly for Kakos Industries shareholders. If you’re not a Kakos Industries shareholder, then those beans look really, really tasty, don’t they? Go ahead. Get a fork, or a spoon. Take a bite. It’ll be really exciting for a minute. And seven seconds.
We recently had the remote Darkest Universe Festival. As is the tradition, we picked several specimens from the good population and requested that you think terrible things about them. Last time, I mentioned that someone we had not yet instructed you to think about had turned into moss. That is still the case for him. We’ve been short on cleaning staff. We also introduced a few more people. One of them seems to have succumbed to spontaneous combustion. Another drowned on his own spit. And the last one just had a regular-ass heart attack. It would appear that we are in a dark timeline. It is unclear if it is the darkest, but certainly things are rough. Keep your thoughts with the darkness shareholders. We can never falter.
Much like last year, and for eerily similar reasons, we all forgot about the Nudity Festival. And yet, we were all naked at the appropriate time. We were just alone. Or with our families or roommates. But we were naked, and that is what counts. Perhaps next year we will remember this festival. Perhaps we will be able to enjoy it during some sort of post-isolation orgy that all of you so desperately were requesting.
Last year, we combined the Water Festival and the Earth Festival into what essentially became a mud festival. I asked if we could do a quicksand festival instead, and the project lead from the Division of Dionysia basically said, “We’re probably not even going to have the festival.” That is fair, of course. I am a bit disappointed. You see, there’s nothing preventing me from getting into my personal submarine and checking in on Prosperiana-slash-Kakolantis. That doesn’t violate any quarantining rules. And I don’t want to have to go there. Even though I will. I can’t look away.
So, unsurprisingly, there hasn’t been a whole lot going on here at Kakos Industries recently. We’ve made progress on projects, but they kind of lack that human element. I can say, oh we’ve got a prototype for this toy that will drive people insane, or for this new fabric that gives everyone on earth texture issues except for the least sensitive of all. They will love it, despite it causing issues for everyone else. I can tell you about the lab technicians and the people involved, but there’s no drama. They just did their work. In isolation or through careful procedures, or whatever. They haven’t even needed that much supervision. There’s usually a document on my desk each morning with some suggestions on it about what people should do, and I usually say yeah, go do that, and then it happens and it’s fine. And then I wander the building.
The benefit to this bored, endless wandering is that I’ve learned a lot about the building. I’ve discovered rooms and spaces and other oddities. I’ve discovered laboratories that have apparently been abandoned mid experiment. I mark the door and my map with the details so that I might look into them again. I’ve discovered meeting rooms for secret clubs. I’ve also discovered sex rooms. They’re fitted with a bunch of different apparati, and they’ve got autoclaves for the various toys. It makes me wonder who goes there and who uses the stuff. But probably someone does. The most interesting thing that I’ve discovered is a library full of some of our oldest books and records. Some of them are difficult to understand due to the changes in language. Others are falling apart. I’ve made sure to use archival techniques when handling these documents, but some are very interesting. I want to read a story for you. It’s not the original version, but it is more readable.
The Story of Amity.
Amity Worth was a young woman living in the New England colony of Port Faith during the 1600s. Her life was one of devout religiosity, starting each day with family prayer led by her father, and then spending her days in gender segregation. She would be of marriageable age soon, but until then her focus was to be on preparing meals for the town, repairing garments, and the love of her savior. She followed the instructions of her mother and older sisters, and learned as much as she could. There had been an illness that spread through the town, and left the town with fewer young men than young women. Amity felt certain that she would go unmarried as her older sisters had more to offer in terms of skill and beauty. But she knew that working hard was an act of devotion, so she kept her mind from such matters. Until she couldn’t.
Justice Rowley was a young man, a few years older than Amity. He was the same age as her older sister Mercy. Everyone thought that he and Mercy would eventually court and get married. But then he began showing interest in Amity. Amity didn’t know what to do with this new attention, but the town seemed to encourage it. Justice would come by her home at the end of his day to see her. They were not given much in the way of privacy to make sure that they were behaving in line with the town’s morals, but they would converse on the porch of Amity’s home. Amity liked Justice and found him to be greatly entertaining and felt herself growing fond of him. Justice was completely smitten with Amity. It seemed for much of the town that it was an inevitability for the two of them to become wed.
That was until one day when Amity was fetching something for her mother and sisters from the barn at the edge of their farm. Justice followed her inside. He disrobed and pleaded with her. Their marriage was inevitable. There was no reason they couldn’t start enjoying the benefits early. The wait was agonizing. Amity stood her ground and told Justice that they would have to wait. The eye of their saviour was on them at all times. Justice began to push and plead until finally Amity ran around him and out of the barn.
Amity was happy to forget, forgive and move on. Everyone has their weak moments. The route to their saviour can be bumpy, but fortunately, no unforgivable sins had been committed. Justice had a different thought. He became consumed with the fear that Amity would expose what he had done, or use it against him somehow, so he decided to get ahead of it.
The next day, Amity found herself awoken by her family as they pulled her from her bed. She found herself in the center of the town in front of the reverend and most of her neighbors. Her mother was crying. Her father was furious and refused to make eye contact. Amity pleaded. She had no idea what was going on or why. That was when Justice came forward. He accused her before the entire town of seducing him and driving him to do things he never would have otherwise. To commit sins. To condemn both of them to Hell. Amity said nothing had happened. No sins had been committed. Justice sought forgiveness then and there from his saviour, with the reverend guiding him. And when they concluded that, Amity was to be punished. She had memories of seeing people in stocks in other towns, people being tortured for the crimes against faith. She wasn’t sure what came over her at that moment, but she ran. She burst through the crowd and off into the woods. She varied her path to confuse anyone following, and she didn’t stop running until she collapsed from the exertion.
She awoke in a humble bed in a hut in the woods. A kind, middle-aged woman had been watching over her all of this time. Her name was Agnes. She had come from the old country by boat with her husband a decade or two before. Before entering into the church, she studied nature and its medicines, and after the death of her husband, she returned to the woods and all that it offered, albeit in a new world.
Amity withheld her story for several years, and Agnes never pushed to hear it. But she did take care of her and teach her important knowledge about the world around them. Soon enough, Amity was able to make a wide variety of poultices and concoctions. She could cure inflammation. She could treat injuries. The towns nearby would preach the sins of those living outside of the town walls, and would come running to them as soon as someone fell ill. And so this continued for many years. Amity grew into middle age as Agnes grew much older. They grew to love one another in a way that Amity couldn’t completely understand, but she cared so deeply for Agnes that it didn’t matter. The rigidness of her upbringing was far behind her, and it didn’t keep her safe when it was supposed to.
Amity’s sister Mercy married Justice Rowley. Amity found out in bits and pieces from travellers. She didn’t blame her sister. Times were hard, and decisions were harder. Certainly their union might not be perfect, but it would suffice.
Agnes became sick and Amity was only able to soothe her before she passed. The loneliness was sudden, and stark, and unbearable, but she was able to keep moving. Townspeople would visit, she would provide them with what they needed, and they would leave. Occasionally, a particularly desperate family would send daughters or wives into the woods, and Amity would feel the longing all the stronger. To see them. To know what they must be going through in their villages. To know their often miserable fates. Agnes taught her never to push, and so she didn’t. If it was meant to be, someone would find her. Nature would provide. That is, of course, until it wouldn’t.
Amity was able to sustain herself this way for many years. Then, one day a man from a town many miles away came to her. His brother had a fever, and he was beginning to cough and tremble. She did not permit them inside. She told them to return home and not to leave, just as Agnes had taught her. The men were persistent, but they eventually left.
A sudden fear swept over Amity. The men could go to her hometown. They could infect her village, and her sisters, and her nieces and nephews. Amity ran.
Entering her old village, she saw no sign of the men, but several of the townsfolk stared at her. She realized quite suddenly how out of place she must look. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Her dress was old and mended a hundred times. The reverend, now quite old, recognized her and pointed a finger.
Amity shouted about the coming danger. She told the town that they must not trust anyone from another village for months, maybe a year. The townspeople began to shout back at her. They began to call her terrible names. They began to throw things at her. In the distance, she saw Mercy and Justice. They turned their heads and walked away.
She ran back into the woods. She was not as fast as she used to be, so she spent a lot more of the journey walking. She returned to her home and closed the door behind her. She locked it, and she hid under her sheets.
She remained in and around her home for months, hiding from visitors, telling them to leave, crying that there was nothing she could do. And then it all stopped. No one came to visit. No one begged for help. There was no one. She kept to herself for another month of this silence before it became too much. She went back to Port Faith to find it empty. Ransacked. A few homes had human remains inside, but most of the buildings were empty.
Amity found herself breaking down in the town center, where decades before the town had shunned her. She cried until she could not.
A man dressed in all black wearing a hat with a large brim came up to her. He said he had need of someone with her skills for his organization. Amity was afraid of this man, but decided to hear him out.
That is the end of the story in this book, as well as all of the others I found. The origins of Kakos Industries are murky at best. I do wonder if this story might deal with one of the precursors and that’s why we have several copies and versions of it in this library. It does make me think.
In addition to this library, I’ve also discovered a number of unattended laboratories as I mentioned. This is somewhat concerning because experiments tend to require at least frequent supervision. And I have no idea what the experiments are as a lot of the computer terminals are locked and don’t respond to my overrides. The laboratories also look as though they have been plucked out of time. Some have that vintage 50’s vibe. Others have a more 70’s earth tone feel. Others have technology so advanced I barely recognize it. This isn’t all that unusual. There isn’t any real reason why labs have to be modernized. And if the style is working for the team, then we’re not worried about it. The part that is concerning is the experiments themselves. There were some guinea pigs in a cage with only a USB keyboard in the cage for them to play with. The keyboard was not plugged into anything. The plug was just dangling. I sent an email trying to figure out whose lab this is, but if I don’t hear back I’ll probably have to feed the guinea pigs. They are literal guinea pigs by the way. They don’t appear to be the ones raised for food, if that helps.There was another lab I found that had a small pot in the middle with a huge tree just threatening to burst through the roof. I don’t know how long it had been there. If that growth is recent, then we have a problem on our hands. If it’s taken decades, then that’s fine. We should probably replant it, but it could be fine. I’m not going to do anything until I figure out what the experiment is, though. This tree could destroy habitats if we’re not careful, and that leaves us with a whole lot less planet then we need to appropriately do Evil. Another lab just had a big black box with a blinking light floating in the middle of the room. I got the hell out. I’m not playing that game, whatever it is.
I’ve been getting a lot of requests recently to schedule a big celebration for when we end our quarantine. Specifically, I’ve been asked to schedule an orgy. Now, orgies tend to be a little more trouble than they’re worth. They’re awkward. Not everyone is completely on board. There’s a lot of standing around. Sure, we all like the idea of a sex party, but without careful calibration, you’re just not going to turn a bunch of normal people into the wild sex animals that they need to be. The Shareholders’ Ball takes months of preparation to make sure that the crowd is ready for whatever. And after our social skills atrophy? I’m just not sure this is what people think it will be. Of course, I’m happy to schedule it. But sometimes these things are more appealing as fantasy. I will say that I can tell the level of lust out there is getting a little intense, though. I’ve been receiving picture messages where this loneliness is all too clear. You know, there’s literally nothing hiding it. This is in addition to the usual pictures I get sent of this nature, which usually break down into two different groups. There’s the horny until I hit send group, and there’s the just-wanted-to-show-you-what-you’ll-never-have group. Oddly enough, many of these people are my employees, and I am not able to fire them for doing this. It’s an obscure rule that I believe my grandfather put into place, but too many members of the board need these random photos to thrive for them to get on board with me changing the rules. If we make it potentially not okay to send naked photos, then the fear alone will dry up the supply. I told them to get a life, but they just kind of laughed at me. Neat.
Hell is keeping on keeping on. They’re breaking rocks, gathering the gravel, and then forcing the gravel back into being rocks.
Jasmine Aashna and Dr. Dunkelwissen have been telecommuting still. And by that, I mean that their research seems to have stopped entirely. The test subjects are all quarantined together, but they don’t seem to have been having as much sex. I am told that there is one anomalous reading, akin to the Wow Signal, that may have been the thing that is most sex, but it’s unclear. None of the couples were having sex. The closest thing we can see on the video footage is one person clipping another person’s fingernails for them. Not sure why they were doing that. It really doesn’t seem to be sex by any stretch of the imagination. In this context, the phrase “stretch of the imagination” made me feel slightly uncomfortable. It is possible that there has been a time sync issue, though. They’re looking into it.
It’s still unclear whether Alvin Chikless, Monica Walden, or H.P. Orgleson got the hot genes. There has also been no sign of Gray. No tapes from my grandfather. I’ve got other recorded reports here, but I don’t want to run through them all in a hurry. This isolation might last a while.
I’ve been having almost nightly conversations with Junior. He is allowed to look in on the Dana Govern Babies, but only from outside of their nursery. At least one of them is starting to try to walk. I think. It‘s pretty clear that I know nothing about babies.
I got the golden fist of Lake Zyzerzil back and I ran down to Lake Wyverwil with it. It unlocked the gate with no issue. However, the gate leads into what I estimate to be an enormous cave system, and I’m not about to go down there alone. Or probably at all. I’ll make other people go and tell me what they find. And take pictures. As soon as I have other people to send. I know a couple of people who are just bored enough to go alone, but that seems dangerous.
Kimzzzzzzzzzz hit me with another toy dart in the hallways the other day. She was lying low, so it was truly startling. I was caught off guard until I heard her bare feet running away. I gave chase. I think we must have run nearly a mile through the halls and floors of the building before she got away. She is far more athletic and has much more endurance than I would have given her credit for. It was strange, though. She was laughing the entire time. It reminded me of a child successfully goading a caregiver into playing when they weren’t in the mood. Of course I know that the need for play continues throughout our entire lives, but I’m pretty sure she hates me. Just like an agent of chaos, that one.
They say that Evil once rode a wild hog through every saloon in the old west just to stir up trouble. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we’re taking credit for streaming software, teleconferencing, and the feeling that, even though you’re talking to a real person, you are nevertheless completely alone. Of course, we can’t know for certain that we did all of that, but it sounds right and we’re willing to believe it. If you aren’t willing to believe it, then those beans you opened are going to seem even more appetizing. Be careful.
Arthur Noland has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of Arthur’s nemesis will be ruined. Arthur has selected Her Majesty the Grand Imitator as that nemesis. We gave the Wheel of Misery a solid tug, then a hearty spin. It landed on the space for Cross. From this day forward, Her Majesty the Great Imitator will be 67% more cross. This means more easily upset, as well as more likely to linger in those feelings of being upset. For Evil measure, Arthur Noland will be 27% less cross, and you know, sometimes it’s important to be a little bit cross. Congratulations on the win, and best of luck.
Speaking of The Wheel of Misery, the Damnation and Ruination Squad seem to be covered in white out. I’m not sure why. I think that’s what they’re wearing now as ongoing punishment from the Wheel of Misery, but I don’t get it. Are they referring to themselves as mistakes in need of correction? Are they attempting to breathe the fumes? It’s flaking off. Everywhere. They also refuse to work from home. They are technically quarantined together as they never leave one another, but they’re still around other people from time to time. More chaos.
That does it for today’s broadcast. I wish I had more to report, shareholders. You can go ahead and throw out that can of beans now. The broadcast will stop in a few moments. I’m off to play an online video game with Brosephus, which has been deemed a required activity for me. It’ll be a fun time. The numbers are next.
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 delicate dormouse sorceror. 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 firstname.lastname@example.org. 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, Dark Mega Koala, Dwight S, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Dorkpool Dorkuss, who tied the water balloons, Chax Richter, who scooped the ice cream, Dane The Sparkle Pixie who shaved the ice, Tia Reece, who grilled the hot dogs, and Luci Grimm, who made sure all of the condiments were right. 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, Dino Schroeder, director of the Division of Saying It the Long Way, Seth and Josh heads of the Division of Kakos Kafeteria Reviews, Hayden Neff, director of the Division of Improbable Cookbooks, Kristina Kirkland, Director of the Division of Lukewarm Pep Talks, and David T, Director of the Division of Animal Stacking. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has continued knitting the small zoo. In addition to the concession stands and penguins, there is now a tank for petting sharks. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has gotten out the old Eviloscilloscope. If you touch one of the probes to someone, you can apparently see the waveform of their Evil. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases has placed a timer in every conference call, beside a countdown for the expected lifespan of the given employee, reminding people that life is fleeting. There is no time for chit-chat. The Division of Saying It the Long Way has invented “so, as you all know, I’ve been feeling a bit cooped up as of late and our supplies have been running low, which is why I’ve been giving some really serious thought to my next actions and how they might impact everyone else in the household, which is to say that I am thinking of making a run to the hamburger drive through would anyone like anything. Way to bury the lead. The Division of Kakos Kafeteria Reviews has reviewed the sushi on a stick cart. Fresh flavors delivered in a funky and fun new style. You must try the yellowtail with olive tapenade. 4/6 stars.The Division of Improbable Cookbooks has finished up the manuscript for Eggs All Over Everything. Apparently, they don’t cook with eggs, but they do somehow get them all over everything. That is not what they are for. The Division of Lukewarm Pep Talks listened to the trials and tribulations of Wilson Barlowe and arrived at the assessment, “Well, he, it’s, like, not going to kill you, is it?” Nailed it. The Division of Animal Stacking has successfully entangled the antlers of several deer, a moose, an antelope, and a handful of reindeer. Technically, only the moose has its hooves on the ground, so it counts. 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 lassoing a steer to get your mind off of things.