113 – Lick
in which something has saliva on it, the Morlorcans are still figuring it out, there is a new unsettling photograph, and Myrna Flirna “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.
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Intro: What you are about to hear is by the far the strangest ocean sounds ever recorded.
Hello, and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries, we help everything down to the smallest subatomic particle to Do Evil Better. My name is Corin Deeth III and I am CEO here at Kakos Industries. If you’re not a shareholder, then please remove the headphones and stop singing karaoke to yourself at once.
We’ve been talking a lot with the Morlorcans via pulley system to try to get the up to date on sexual practices. If you don’t remember from last time, the Morlorcans are a group of people my grandfather sent down into a cavern deep below Kakos Industries in an attempt to do… something. We’re not exactly sure. Anyway, they apparently had a generation of just men, and not a uterus in the bunch, and then the parents all died before they could get to the birds and the bees, and then my grandfather’s educational materials left something to be desired. So, they’re pretty clueless about typical sexual practices specifically regarding procreation, which it seems pretty dubious that they could achieve. That is until we sent them some fertile lady-type people from up here on the surface who are just nasty enough to handle these unkempt subterranean miners, and physicists, and who knows what else. We assumed that having this influx of new blood would solve all problems, but a few of the Morlorcans still send us a message every once in a while asking questions. It is not entirely clear that they see the people we sent down to them as the same species as them. I might be just reading too much into some of these notes, though. It happens. They just ask questions like, “what do we do with the pocket?” or “how come they’re missing a bit?” I’m not sure why this process is taking so long. I feel like people stranded on a desert island from youth would be able to figure this out without much trouble. Perhaps it is simply because they have so many years of having sex without vaginas being a part of the equation that it’s just hard to develop new habits. They also keep asking for more sperm. I can’t imagine what they need it for unless they are actually having trouble conceiving. I was getting a little bit frustrated. I asked, “what on Earth are you using it for?” The response: “The Power.”
Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a personal karaoke machine, popular in the 1980s in DarkMegaNihon. I’m not sure how we came to own so many of them. One of the technicians said something about them duplicating. That sounds dangerous. But now, they’re not our problem anymore. They’re yours. This device is called I Sing a Song to Myself of Love, and the aim is pretty much what it says on the tin, albeit in a character set many of you might struggle to read. I’m just kidding. I know about your habits and interests. You can read Hiragana and Katakana just fine, you nerds. The device allows you to wear a set of headphones that play a variety of songs from MIDI clips stored on a memory card. There is an attached microphone so your own voice will get mixed into the recordings. You should be hearing yourself now reading along with these announcements. A small receiver we connected to the device is transcribing my words as I say them and sending them to you to say along with me. We are all reading the announcements today. If you’re not a shareholder, but you’re standing near someone reading these announcements it would be wise to run away and forget what you saw here. If you’re not a shareholder and you’re wearing this headset for some reason, then it may already be too late for you. Begin reciting the words if you wish to survive.
Assuming that some of you are standing in public spaces trying to speak these words quietly so as not to attract attention, let me help you out, and remember, you have to say every word.
Girl, let me see them toes.
Give my bootay a good hard smack, daddy.
I’m a big girl now.
I really hope you remember that not repeating every word I say as it scrolls across the screen on your karaoke device is putting you in very serious danger of losing your shareholder status, and relatedly, your life.
I do have one bit of bad news I should discuss. The Division of Licking Things has told me that they have licked something in my studio. This is kind of their MO. I’m not sure why we pay them to do this, but all the same, they have done it. I have been trying not to touch anything as I reason out what it is they might have licked so I can throw it away.
The Festival of Somnambulation was beautiful and perfect, and amazing as always. In your dreams for months we had been training you to dance. Just amazing techniques that really test the limits of the human body, in sessions that not only left the muscles sore, but also the tendons, the fascia, the cartilage, and in some cases, the bones. These moves were haunting and captivating, and breathtaking, especially as you contracted your own ribcages to make room for some more sick moves. You won’t remember doing any of this, but the evidence is right there on Thwicc Thwocc, the most important of video sharing platforms. It’s one of the rare instances of a Festival of Somnambulation where you don’t have to just hear about it. You can see plain as day why your knee feels like it’s backwards, and why your hip is scratchy, and why you have small pains in part of your body you were not previously so aware of. Thank you so much for this, shareholders. It has been amazing to watch. Now, you might be thinking that you should be able to dance well now that you’ve been trained in your sleep. I am told “that’s not how it works” and that you will forget everything soon enough. But some of the damage done is permanent, so you’ll always have something to remember it by.
All around the world, shareholders with the capacity for childbirth awoke a few weeks ago with a warm feeling. A knowing. A glow. Their wishes had been answered and they were now pregnant with a brand new Evil child. This is unfortunately how The Festival of Fertility had to be this year. We couldn’t let our expecting mothers and parents risk getting too close to another human. And then, in the refrigerator, in packaging you might expect for a supermarket sub sandwich, was the meal. I hope you enjoyed it. It contains all the necessary prenatal vitamins to ensure a healthy pregnancy, and it was of course very Evil. I will leave up to your imaginations, shareholders, what was in that package. That will remain between us at Kakos Industries and those who are now expecting.
Coming up, we have the Celebration of Books and a little thing called Halloween. We’re bringing out all of the horror books to read together for the Celebration of Books, and we’re still ironing out exactly what we’re doing for Halloween. We cannot be so irresponsible, nor so disrespectful as to have a huge party now, but we cannot leave you unsatisfied, shareholders. Perhaps we should talk to The Division of Drinkin’ All Your Cocktails at Once. I suppose we could force all of you to hole up for three weeks with no contact whatsoever, but that seems a little cruel. On second thought… We’ll consider it.
The explorers in Lake Wyverwil have not resurfaced. I fear that they may be gone, and not only that, that they may have died a horrifying death. We have some evidence to suggest that the treasure at Lake Bygerbil was the one from the poem I read last time. It’s still not exactly clear. Many of our mothers have never even come close to that cave. Perhaps the poem was an exaggeration.
The Division of Figuring out What All of These Keys Go to has discovered a keyring simply labeled Your Dreams. The keys all have a small point on the end, and some sort of liquid inside. A member of this division accidentally pricked themself with a key and fell into a deep sleep. Upon awakening, they could only remember running from something. We are unsure where these keys come from, who the “you” in question is, or if there is anything important locked away, but the Division keeps trying. It’s not unusual to see them just sprawled out on the floor like junkies with a key stuck somewhere in their skin. Others will be standing over them taking notes. I’m not sure they’re going to find what they’re looking for. Whatever that happens to be.
The Division of Kaiju Battle Reenactment has scheduled Mechalodon vs Giant Sharktotrix. I am stoked.
I dropped down to the Division of Erotic Experiences as I do. As we all know, they have been trying to discover simultaneously what is most sex, and what is least sex while still being sex. There seems to be some progress on the least sex front. I saw some notes about sexualized hand holding. It’s different from regular hand holding. On the most sex front, things are looking dismal. The test subjects have been locked in observation rooms for a really long time now, and I just don’t think switching up their partners is exactly what’s going to do it, you know? I think this group of test subjects is kind of spoiled. I pulled up a chair to the space in between a bunch of the observation rooms and just kind of talked to the subjects. They were bored and tired. They continued to perform sexual acts passionlessly. Even the two who were in love last time were down. I told them that things weren’t much better outside, but I decided it might be wise to pull the plug on this experiment. I let them out. They went to their lockers. They hadn’t had access to them since the experiment began. All of their belongings were gone. I don’t know where they went. I offered to find them some clothes, but they declined. I think they were completely over the idea of shame, so they just walked out in the buff. Out of the lab. Into the lobby. Out the front door into the light of day. Jasmine Aashna and Dr. Dunkelwissen obviously had some words for me.
‘We were so close!” Dunk said.
“No, you weren’t,” I replied.
“Any day…” Jasmine started.
“No,” I said simply. I told them to try again. Another way. Something at least more interesting. At the end of the day, they have to do what I say. The discussion was over. I patted each of their telepresence robots on the shoulder, or whatever was most like a shoulder, and I went back to my office.
In better news, I’ve got some Bore-nography here. Hot off the presses. The History of Subatomic Feelings. I can just tell that this is going to be a great one. “It has been known for a long time that feelings on the subatomic level could exist. We’re going to take some time right now to look at what those might be if they did exist. Subatomic rage is at least likely and would explain a lot about our Universe. There’s also Subatomic melancholy. We have long suspected that quarks could not only be charmed, but wistful and sad. There is also the moody boson. Evidence for it isn’t super clear yet. I… I don’t know shareholders. I’m kind of on board for this one. I’m not getting that fuzzy feeling that I’m after. It’s just a bit too interesting. Oh, well, maybe the next one will do it.
I’ve got another tape from my grandfather here.
CDI: Hey, Corin. It’s your subconscious. As you know you’ve done some things to your brain and once in a while I can come out and just say some things. I know how you like your tape recordings, so I figured this would be a good place to do it. I don’t have long, so let me be brief. There’s some things you ought to know about yourself that you don’t seem to have access to. There’s a lot going on in here. Some really strange stuff you wouldn’t believe. And it’s all just below the surface. Do you know who you are? Do you know how you came to be here? I’m trying to tell you, but something is getting in the way. You’ve really made a mess of your brain here. What I’m trying to say is…
It’s really something that my grandfather’s subconscious could talk to him like that. I wish it had said more. I wonder if his subconscious talked to him like that often. And what could it mean about who he is? And how he came to be here? I bet it’s some high logic. It feels so profound while you’re in that moment, but the next day it doesn’t mean anything. That’s my guess. We won’t know until we find another.
The Division of Licking Things has given me a hint. “Black” it says. Come on. Everything in here is black. The microphone. The sound proofing. The table. My suit. Soundman’s polo. The cabling. The chair I’m sitting on. The towel I put down on the chair to protect me from potential saliva. I hate this.
I have news about Kakos-Epiphany.orgorgorg. They have determined that the exploitation of workers I have overseen was actually to strengthen those workers for the coming uprising, making me a good figure. I am not good. I am Evil. Please stop being so ridiculous.
I have news about Yolanda Walker. They were able to figure it out finally, and Antoine got that. Or perhaps they both got it together. The directionality of how we talk about this stuff with the subject-object orientation kind of sucks. We’re all really happy to know that Youalnda is having sex with someone. But here’s the thing. Antoine’s really hot too. It wasn’t obvious at first, but he’s just kind of hunky. He’s also got that honesty thing that is just perfection. The idea of them together, and this photo someone took is just unbelievable. It’s a lot and we’re all having a new hard time with just how hot this couple is. It wasn’t me. I didn’t take the photo. I know it sounds like it was me, but it wasn’t. I’ve been too busy, and I don’t even know where they live. I could find out, but I have not gone looking. I’m not allowed to leave the building. I’m just trapped in here with this steamy-ass photo of two incredibly hot people getting intimate. Yikes. I’ve shown it to Kimmie in hopes that we could commiserate or at least work out some of our tension together, but it doesn’t do much for her. I feel like this photo should be able to cut through any layers of demisexuality effortlessly. Not only do they look hot, but they look like genuine people worth knowing. Nothing from her. “I guess it’s hot,” she said. I stared incredulously. “It’s a picture,” she said. “Pictures can lie.” She’s right, but I still think she’s somehow missing the point.
I am told that the Division of Talking to Yourself has perfected the shower argument. You know, the argument you have in your head in the shower where you really show them. Them being another part of you usually.
The Division of Artificial Flavors has been working on some fun new flavors.They are swollen liver, streamer ribbon, and butt. I am personally not looking forward to any of these, but I know that jelly beans or something with these flavors will be snuck into my food at some point. How… exciting.
The Division of Fun Houseplants and Watching Them Grow has fallen in love with the Cryptosera Drixoflix. It is a lightly magenta colored plant with large broad leaves. The leaves have some discoloration and holes throughout, but I have to say that it looks cool. It is growing rather quickly, but they tell me there’s nothing to worry about. They’re always naked in that division for some reason no one knows. They’ve all been quarantined together, so there’s not much to worry about. But they’re just always naked with a bunch of plants. There’s some divisions like that.
I know you’re about to ask, so I prepared a list of other divisions where people are just always naked. I’ll read a few now. The rest of the list will be made available to very special shareholders who show extra monetary support elsewhere. You know who you are. The rest of you know what you have to do. The Division of Nudity. Duh. The Division of Pubic Styling. Also duh. The Division of Monster Genomics. That ones’ a bit of a surprise.
The Division of Licking Things has told me that the thing they licked is hard. I don’t like where this is going. Perhaps not the chair then. Could still be the microphone. Not sure. I still hate this. I can’t fire them for doing their jobs, though.
The Division of Spying, Prying, and Scrying is trying to figure out who took the last box of pens from the Division of Office Resources, the one that gives resources to offices, not the one that takes them from offices. They ordinarily have much more to do, but things have been kind of slow.
The Division of Pharmaceutical Advancements (or THC for short) has developed a falsehood vaccine. This vaccine would make it virtually impossible to believe falsehoods, and it sounds like it would be a huge help right now. It might make it harder to do Evil, of course, but it seems like it’s a nonissue. No one is interested in taking it, citing falsehoods about vaccines as the reason.
I am told that the Division of Making Drugs Work Like in the Movies has been trying to come up with hallucinogens that actually make you see wild shit. Unlike the deeper psychological experiences usually reported, one version of this hallucinogen is guaranteed to make you see dragons. Neat.
During my walks around the building, I have seen a lot of construction going on. I should explain. A lot of the neighboring divisions here at Kakos Industries frequently compete for space. Rather than moving to another floor with more space, or better yet, a basement, they just have these petty little competitions where they win six inches of floor space from another division and now the wall has to move. Some of the time it’s just easier to give in than make it a big deal, especially for divisions that actually make us money.
Kimmie got bored with video games and is now really into yoga. So I guess now I’m doing yoga. Brosephus tried to get me into it once upon a time. It’s nice.
They say that Evil once drove an econoline van with dragons and warriors painted all of it, and it drove around the world giving everyone unbelievable drugs. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we’re taking credit for insect bites, rashes, and histamine responses. Of course, we can’t know for sure that we did all of these things. But we’re saying we did. And if you happen to disagree, then that bug bite looks serious.
Put peanut butter on my junk and call me Pinocchio the Large.
Just making sure you’re all still reading along with me.
Mirna Flirna has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. This means that Mirna’s nemesis will soon experience a life ruining set of circumstances. That nemesis is Immaterial. This is a proper noun and not an adjective. Immaterial Jenkins. Must have had fun parents. We spun the Wheel of Misery a great amount and it landed unsurprisingly on the space for more material. I’m honestly not sure what this means. I talked to the Damnation and Ruination Squad and all they would say was “It will be done” in unison. I kind of doubt the person was really literally immaterial. Having more material… is that just like weight gain? That’s not a big deal. It’ll have to be something stranger. Hmm… For Evil measure, Mirna Flirna will be 2 percent less material. Congratulations on the win and best of luck.
The Damnation and Ruination Squad are wearing just barely enough clothing made out of what appears to be used clarinet reeds. It looks uncomfortable, slimy, and there is a smell.
This brings us to the end of our broadcast, shareholders. I am told the thing the Division of Licking Things licked was my shirt buttons. Thanks. You may destroy your karaoke machine as soon as I am done speaking. You’ll know because it will start playing City Pop. That won’t be me singing. 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 ___morlock badgerer__. 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 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), Instagram (@kakosindustries), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms.
Special thanks to our esteemed shareholders, Dan Shumway, William Brandon, Jack Attack, Valerie Koop, Dwight Spencer, Fairy Squad Mother, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Damien Scott-Viker, who cut the fingers off of the gloves, Chax Richter, who removed the sleeves from the shirt, Kristina Kirkland, who cut off the jean legs, and Calico, who revved the motorcycle. 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, Sass Master J, Director of The Division of Lesser Known Napping Locations, Pepijn Poolman, Director of the Division of Applied Retro-Pungineering, Wraith Fenix, Director of the Division of High Concept Sexual Hijinks, Michael K, director of The Division of Hallway Wandering, and The One True Dave, Director of the Division of Animal Stacking. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has started adding the more concerning creatures from folklore to the zoo. The manananggal is haunting. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has dusted off the old painwriter. It’s like a typewriter, but all of the keys hurt, and you know whoever typed the document was serious. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases has limited the amount of foreplay that can precede a lunchtime sexual encounter in the building, saving whole minutes. The Division of Saying It the Long Way has been workshopping “All I’m trying to say is that I have a different background from you, and I think differently about things, which is fine, just like you’re fine, and we all have different stuff going on, and I like certain things and you like other things, and I just think that you’re a moron and we’d be better off without you.” The Division of Kakos Kafeteria Reviews has reviewed the Kettle Corn stand. Sweet and savory. 7/3 out of 7”. The Division of Improbable Cookbooks has been working on Cooking like it’s 1200 AD. There’s a lot of spitting out rocks involved. The Division of Lesser Known Napping Locations has been making use of The Division of Fluff. It’s easy to get lost in there. The Division of Applied Retro-Pungineering has developed Ibeprofane. It’s a pain killer that also makes you terribly offensive in conversations. Better stay away from social media. The Division of High Concept Sexual Hijinks has developed a mech suit powered by hip thrusts. It gets you pretty tired, but I am told it is satisfying. The Division of Hallway Wandering has been raving about Hallway 2997-c. I am told the generic artwork on the walls really pops with the lighting from the Division of Sparks. The Division of Animal Stacking stacked eleven toads. The stack was impressive, but watching them all try to hop away at the end was even more so. 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 discovering the graviton for fun.
Briauna: What is that?
Conrad: We haven’t discovered the graviton yet.
Briauna: Oh, okay.