episodes

118 – Ball

in which we awaken from a journey together, and Andrew Sharp “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.

Kakos Industries is ad-free. To help keep it that way, please visit KakosIndustries.com/Patreon, that’s p-a-t-r-e-o-n, and consider a pledge of a dollar or more a month.

Intro: What you are going to hear is going to totally miss the point, if we’re being honest.

Ah, Evil. You’re awake. That’s great. You’ve just been through quite a lot, so don’t rush yourself. This readout I have in front of me shows that around 95 percent of you are coming to. There should be some water in front of you and a sandwich made from whatever you like best. You’ll need to replenish, so you don’t need to hesitate. It’s important to take care of yourself after you’ve gone through something as intense as you just did. As all of us just did. The remaining five percent of us who are still experiencing things will join us soon enough. Like I said, it’s important not to rush things. Just relax for a minute and catch your breath. That sandwich is there for you when you’re ready. I had pastrami on marbled rye here a moment ago. Of course we timed things out so that I would come to before all of you. That way I can maintain control, look really cool, and also begin these announcements. Hi. I’m Corin Deeth III, and I’m CEO of Kakos Industries. At Kakos Industries, we help our clients to Do Evil Better. You are our shareholders. Some of you are also employees and clients, but all of you are shareholders hearing this. Except for… well, if you’re not a shareholder, you might want to figure out how to fix that in a hurry. Here’s a tip: do something really Evil. Do something that shows that you are impure to the core and terrible throughout. Do something fun and selfish and mean. But, you know, don’t threaten that existence of life on Earth. We need people to do Evil upon, so you gotta keep it under that upper limit. 

Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a fun houseplant we had delivered while you were out. If things have gone to plan,  then the plant should be sprouting some beans from its stalk. These are part of a project that we’ve been working on called Ear Beans, sort of like earbuds, but this batch came out too loud. Instead of scrapping them, we decided that a gene splice here and there and we’ve got a great bio radio. It receives the slightly modified transmissions and produces the sounds from the beans themselves. This project comes to us from a collaboration from Rupert’s Beans and the Division of Beans. I know you were probably hoping for a more creative title there, but I’m sorry. The truth is that beans are just so incredibly diverse and interesting that coupling this division with anything else would make their workload completely overwhelming. Beans are a lot. Also, Evil. Just want to take that one for us now. Beans are Evil and we all have to deal with that knowledge. At any rate, if you aren’t a shareholder and you haven’t done something incredibly Evil to become one, then you’re about to become completely overwhelmed yourself by the idea of eating these beans. They are toxic. They won’t kill you, but they may cause some memory loss related to the last year or so of your life. Shareholders, I know what you’re thinking and you should stop thinking it. While the last year has been difficult for all of us, the beans will simply not allow you to forget. They don’t work on Evil people. Disappointing, I know, but we will persevere.

Speaking of memories, I think your memory of the things that have transpired over the last two weeks are starting to fade a bit like dreams when you awaken each morning. And for that reason, I want to take this opportunity to discuss the unusual shared experience that we’ve all just awoken from. That way it’ll solidify itself in your memory and you won’t be in any danger of forgetting something amazing, transcendent, or otherwise noteworthy. Get started on that sandwich if you haven’t yet, and I want that glass of water inside of you pronto.

Around two weeks ago, you got a package through your incoming projectiles window labeled “Important Ball Materials”. Now, obviously we know you and your sense of humor and how you do things in general, and we know that just putting ball on there without any context is perfect humor in its purest form, but we also knew that you would all take this seriously knowing that it had an important purpose in the upcoming celebrations that are often the best of the year. Another label said, “open immediately”. Some of you have your incoming projectiles windows in strange places, like not at your home. This can cause difficulties for us sometimes when you prefer to have an incoming projectiles PO window. Like a post office box or whatever. At any rate, we knew that you would open this box when you had a proper chance and not in the middle of the street or whatever. We know that you have survival instincts. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be here. Not being as close to us as you are. Inside of the box you found two things. One a large, science-y looking machine. The other, a small vial. We had a hard time resisting the urge to make an Alice in Wonderland reference on the bottle. We even had mockups for bottles that would resemble ones referenced in the stories, but no. It’s been done. And there was plenty more of that to come anyway. The instructions were clear. Turn on the machine. Definitely turn on the machine. Turn on the machine first. Do not drink the vial without turning on the machine. Turn on the fucking machine before you do anything. Stop what you;re doing and turn on this machine. Make sure it’s plugged in and you can hear the whirring sound. Keep it nearby. Then drink from the bottle. You have five minutes to get comfortable. Did we tell you what was about to happen? No. It was critical for you to give yourself completely to the experience. We couldn’t have you doubting things, or asking questions, or having expectations. No. You needed to drink and surrender. After you turned on the machine. Some of you didn’t follow directions and, well, that was a bad experience. We had to send teams to turn on machines in some cases to bring you back from the edge of the void inside of yourself. This substance was a tool, not a means in and of itself. It needed to be handled with the appropriate care. It needed respect. And it needed the goddamn machine on. You can turn it off now, by the way. I would actually recommend it. The effects of the machine on someone conscious simply haven’t been tested and you know what that means. 

Then you found yourself atop the clouds. You were glowing neon colors. I was there before you, dressed in a suit and looking handsome as usual. I welcomed you to the shareholders’ ball remote edition. Did you honestly think we would make you stare at a piece of glass with friends and acquaintances on the other end? The shareholders’ ball? We cannot and will not ever allow this event to pass us by without investing everything we can into making it an amazing experience. I fucking had you. I made you think it was going to be lame and low key. But you had no idea what was about to happen. 

Other neon silhouettes started to appear all around you as everyone synced up. This process was incredibly complicated as you can imagine and I will not go into the details now, partly because we’re still not sure exactly how we did it. I think that mystery makes the experience a bit more magical. 

There was a faint hum you could hear seemingly everywhere. And you could hear it in more detail than you had ever heard anything. It was clearer, crisper, sharper, and more intense. The vibrations themselves started to work their way through your body. You were now vibrating with the clouds, with the sky, and with all of the other beings of neon light around you. The Division of Subliminal Massage took over from here. It was important to us that you relaxed before the experience that was about to occur. We couldn’t have you freaking out on us. The vibrations seemed to permeate your body in different directions, intersecting at parts of your body where you hold the most stress, or pain, or tension. We couldn’t have any of that. Not at the Kakos Industries Shareholders’ Ball. The feelings of these vibrations were intense, and deep, and pleasurable. There was a feeling that in this form, the rest of you was somewhere else, and that you didn’t need all of that baggage. You were free. You were the consciousness that you always knew you were, hindered by nothing. Held back by nothing. Completely free. The experience was warm, and tingly, and exciting, and terrifying, but in a fun way. 

The Division of Genetic Manipulation and Body Modification set about helping you into a new form for the ball. Something comfortable, but also something majestic just like that self deep inside of you has always been. We became figures of differing sizes and coloring, and shapes. Some of us becoming human ideals. Others becoming more. There were antlers and horns, and other appendages of spiritual significance. Our eyes glowed. Our skin was painted. We were dignified, and whole, and amazing. I found myself growing large, my skin taking on a purple hue and my hair growing long and wild on my head. It was difficult to know who anyone else was around me for certain. This is due to the limitations of the synchronization as well as the strangeness of our forms. A small person glowing orange climbed up my legs and crawled along my body before being lost in my hair. I never found them again. 

As you’re coming to right now, the realization that two weeks have actually passed is probably beginning to dawn on you, but don’t worry. We worked things out with your bosses and your families and your other obligations. We covered for you, and took care of you. Nothing is more important than the ball. Some of you did hallucinate going to work and doing some of your usual chores at some point, but we tried to minimize that.

Soon, the clouds faded and disappeared around us and we fell slowly to the ground below us. A mushroom forest at dusk. The grass was bluer than usual, and the mushroom caps sprouting from the earth all around us were brightly colored and glowing. There was something overwhelming about the beauty of this place, like it could only exist in dreams or in art, but here it was in the fullest details our eyes could perceive. We were small, or at least smaller than the mushrooms themselves. This section of our collective journey was brought to us by The Division of Mycology, who, believe it or not, had nothing to do with the contents of the vial that you consumed. Soon, we were all running and playing in this forest that seemed to stretch on and on no matter how far you ran. We chased one another and when we caught one another we reversed the roles. Or, we embraced. We wrestled. We made love. And then we got up and did it all again. The experience was heady and joyful. It was hedonistic, but it was also innocent. There was nothing else to do. Enjoyment was there for us, and nothing was in the way. I will say that we were actually in our bodies somewhere else, but the experiences were mostly in our heads. That does not mean, however, that you might not have had some sort of physical reaction that will need tidying up. And if you’re curious, I suppose I can let you know that the Division of Somnambulation and Vegetation made sure you got to the bathroom when you needed to. 

This experience in the mushroom forest lasted for what felt like days, and who can say for sure how long it actually lasted? I mean, the scientists who spent the whole time monitoring us, probably. But I didn’t ask them. And if you’re worried about them being left out, believe it or not, monitoring us during an experience like this is actually much more interesting to them somehow. I remember taking a nap atop one of the mushrooms for what felt like hours. Every time I would awake, I felt just enough like I could rest more and so I did. Time did not seem to pass. Everything was soothing and beautiful. 

The Division of Psychedelia, who also had nothing to do with the vial, by the way, guided us into a space that seemed a bit like a hall of mirrors, but also had kaleidoscopic elements and bright colors. It felt metaphorical as we moved through the halls. It felt like we were travelling and moving somewhere important as we went. It felt like progress. Coming out of the other side we were faced with things that scare us, but they seemed small and deflated compared to us. Everything that bothered us before, everything we carried with us, it was there and so small. It could be crushed, or thrown into a cavern lake nearby and completely discarded. 

The Division of Secret Societies then inducted us into a sacred order. We donned robes and used long, twisted daggers to draw blood from ourselves, but the blood was discolored and we were filled with the sense that we didn’t need it. It was a part of us we were sacrificing, and we would be better off without it. The bleeding stopped and the discarded blood ran downhill into the lake. We looked around at our fellow shareholders knowing that we had become closer, and a part of something larger than ourselves. There was a handshake I am struggling to remember and several pledges we made.

At the edge of the cavern we found ourselves in, there was a waterfall in front of another cave passage and each of us passed under this water, rinsing away our difficulties. 

Stepping through the cave, we found ourselves suddenly high up in the air. We were in line. Ahead of us, The Division of Thrill ride testing set up an impossible rollercoaster. It involved speeds humans can’t experience without dying. It involved growing and shrinking at strategic and unexpected moments. It involved being thrown from one part to another, and I distinctly remember a large hand catching out car at one point before setting us back on the track. It was frightening at times, but if you allowed yourself to let go, it became tremendous fun. 

The rollercoaster never ended as such. It went on for a great amount of time. Maybe days of exhilaration. And then, it faded into something else. Our physical forms evaporated for the time being and we became raw experience floating through space. The Division of Smells took over at this point. Apparently, there are a number of known smells that there are no ways of creating chemically. They are there in the brain waiting for stimulus that does not exist. But we were able to experience these smells in their full glory. We breathed them in. We became them. We knew them in full. Shareholders, it is unfortunate that I am unable to describe these smelled in better terms because the experience will likely fade from your memory without the proper context. I’ll read you the names in case that helps. Not Orange. Ungarbage. Deep Yoghurt. Pinkpurple. Plastoon. Speyside.

The Division of Gleep Glorp took us on a journey that cannot fit into human language. Our senses of space and time and directionality, and proprioception were stretched and pulled and twisted. We were everywhere, and then some places only, and then specifically not others. They describe the experience like: “Wampanooey langza. Dop dop yik yik walla walla woooooooo. Okey malokey bokey. Shabaaaaaaaaaaa.” That does explain some things. 

The Division of Whaling and Wailing took us to the high seas and gave us the thrill of the hunt. Slamming back into our chosen forms, we were immediately hit in the face with sea air, and likely sea water. The wooden creaking of the ship in the strong winds was exciting and concerning. The sounds of synchronized work songs took over our ears. We hunt the whale. We hunt the whale. The part where we killed the whale was real gross though. It was just a dream anyway, so don’t feel too bad. 

Division of Masquerade and Wearin’ Shit prepared us for the ball itself. Agents of theirs, sometimes presenting as fairies, or birds, or octopuses, began to take our measurements in our forms. They fitted us with glittering and glowing garments. Some garments bent space and seemed to not be there in places, and other places were impossible to look at or see properly. We were made to look extravagant and fierce, and ready to party. 

We stepped into the ballroom. It was bright, but the decor was dark. It was structured like an MC Escher painting, but filled with details of HR Geiger. It was mind blowing and breathtaking, and we all had a seat. But there was no meal. Not yet, anyway. Soon we could hear a sound. Weakness. Goodness. Sweetness. The tones of a creature soothing itself filled our ears, and filled our stomachs with desire. We drew great claws from our fingertips and great fangs emerged from our mouths as we switched from awaiting food to seeking it out for ourselves. In a room nearby, the beast was waiting. It was enormous. Much larger than expected. It was cute and precious and it was also dinner. We pounced and began tearing the creature apart, feasting on flesh that was unctuous and cloying and fascinating. Every bite was different from the next and just as delicious. Soon, all that was left of the creature was bones, though some of you set to work breaking these down and devouring them. Even those of you generally averse to eating flesh could take part knowing that this was not a real thing taking place. And if that wasn’t satisfying enough of a thought, the hunger temporarily set aside your preferences. 

Music began playing from one of the nonsensical hallways and we followed the sound to find instruments playing themselves. They were seemingly part player and part instrument and the tones that came from their strings and horns and drums were unearthly. The waveforms and frequencies were unusual, potentially never before experienced by human ears. The melody was haunting and seemed to move up and down at the same time. The textures of the notes expanded and contracted. I was brought to tears. I was not the only one. Though satisfied from our feast, we were not full. Dancing began almost immediately. Our bodies contorted and gyrated rhythmically in ways that our bones and the laws of physics would ordinarily prevent. It was madness. We were madness, and we were enjoying every moment of it. 

Then, in the middle of us dancing, The Division of Performance Art started their show. They grew and shrunk their bodies while dancing in ways that created strange outlines between them that also started to dance. We were in multiple places at once all of a sudden, and the way that their bodies and ours overlapped created other layers of movement that were hypnotizing. Performances were superimposed over the tops of one another creating strange and awesome illusions. When it was over, no one knew exactly what had happened. We were struck dumb. 

Then there was the Blood Orgy. The blood was brightly colored and covered our bodies, soaking through our unimaginable garments. We felt strong and powerful, and we felt beautiful and desirable. We embraced one another in a way we hadn’t in the real world in too long. We experienced bodies and we experienced joy. Pleasure came in waves that seemed to affect everyone at once. We were a part of something larger than ourselves. We were a part of joy, and pleasure, and one hedonistic organism. This went on for what could have been years, but might have been days. The Division of Erotic Experiences guided us into new and interesting configurations, expanding our sensations to another level.

We began to explore the ballroom in our minds and we drifted into blank gray expanses losing track of the edges of our forms. We became overwhelmed by the sensation of existence, pure and complete. We simply were. The experience was calming as we faded deeper and deeper into nothingness.

And then we awoke.

What you are experiencing now is not a hangover, but you are likely tired and emotionally spent. You’re also likely sweaty at the very least and could really use a shower and a change of clothes. You might find yourself feeling emotionally raw and vulnerable. Maybe this informs how you move forward in your day to day life. Maybe you’ll go right back to how you were before. The options are before you and the decision might be out of your hands anyway. 

It has been my honor and privilege to be able to serve you for seven years. I hope you enjoyed the shareholders’ ball this year. 

Get ready for The Celebration of Affirmation and the Big Black Hole Celebration.

They say that Evil once paid for ad space on every billboard in the world and hid clues to the secret to happiness in each one. No one was able to discover their meaning. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we are taking credit for hot people, cold people, and sexy people who are just the right temperature. As always, we can’t be absolutely certain that we did these things, but come on, you know we did. If you disagree, then watch out for those beans. 

Andrew Sharp has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, Andrew’s nemesis will experience a life-ruining turn of events. That nemesis is Jackie Attackie. We gave the Wheel of Misery a strong, respectable spin and it landed on the space for “Illegal”. While no person can be illegal as such, Jackie Attackie will now find it difficult to do things the normal, legal way, instead option for often needlessly risky illegal activities instead. Why go to the doctor when you can just buy pharmaceuticals on the street? Why get a passport when you can simply sneak over a border? Why find a lover when you can purchase black market sex robots. As you can clearly see, this will be difficult to overcome. And for Evil measure, Andrew will now have more difficulty doing anything illegal at all. Best of luck navigating your forty streaming services and congratulations on the win. 

The Damnation and Ruination Squad are just kind of covered in glitter slime. They’re naked and filthy and covered in glitter slime. I’ve got a cleaning crew just sort of following behind them. You can’t stop them, obviously, so you have to treat the symptoms. 

This brings us to the end of our broadcast. The small potted beanstalk before you will stop making sound soon and will never make sound again. It’s a downside of them being so loud. You can keep the plant around if you like it, but it is toxic to humans and dogs. Cats only grow more dangerous and powerful when they consume it. This probably sounds cute and in line with how people talk about their “evil mastermind cats”, but this is a real problem and should be taken seriously. The next time you get a paw to the face, it could really cause some damage. I’ve got to go check on Kimmie. I’m not actually sure where she is, but I suspect she might be underneath some couch cushions. The numbers are next. 

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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 frozen fire witch. 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. Join our community at kakosindustries/discord. 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,, Jack Attack, Valerie Koop, Dwight Spencer, Damien Scott-Viker, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Calico, who set up the board game for everyone, and Fairy Squad Mother, who kicked it over to entertain everyone. And thanks also to our division heads. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn, directed by Bellamy Cornet, has sort of just been staring at the eldritch zoo they created, unmoving. It’s eerie.  The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology, directed by Craig Czyz, has gotten out the old handheld Evil assistant. It was like a digital planner, but it kept track of the Evil you needed to do, and it didn’t sell well at the time. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases, directed by Danniel R Smith, has made a number of the office chairs in employees’ home offices unable to wiggle or lean back, saving minutes every day. The Division of Saying It the Long Way, directed by Dino Schroeder, has been workshopping “whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa what?” The Division of Kakos Kafeteria Reviews, directed by Seth and Josh, has reviewed Sandwishes, the sandwich shop. “The toasted chicken sub with garlic dressing is delicious. Terrible name. One star.”. The Division of Improbable Cookbooks, directed by Hayden Neff has been working on Everything is Foam. Thisguide claims to help its readers turn everything edible into an edible foam. The Division of Lesser Known Napping Locations, directed by Sass Master J, has found a hammock extending from the 75th floor lobby window. It’s not for the faint of heart, but you can technically nap there if you’re into it. The Uneven Surfaces, Directed by The Doctor, has discovered a strange bump in Hallway 33-22-C. They haven’t fixed it or put up a sign or anything, but they are studying it.  The Division of High Concept Sexual Hijinks, directed by Wraith Fenix, has discovered a way to get a little bit deeper using slingshots. It… it’s just like that. I don’t know how else to describe it. The Division of Hallway Wandering, directed by Jack, has been strolling down Hallway 9A. It makes a wooshing sound when you walk through it. The Division of Animal Stacking, directed by The One True Dave, stacked three desert tortoises. I guess that’s all they could find. The Division of Suspiciously Specific Charitable Donations, directed by Hemlock Yew, has made a donation to an animal shelter for $13.37. It’s definitely weird.  The Division of More Monday Mondays, directed by Odie, has discovered a way to make Mondays that much more Monday. It is a stale donut that has been in the office since Friday morning. 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. Consider stocking up for the apocalypse just in case.  

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