124 – Monster Kakos
in which Corin recounts some dreams, we visit Monster Kakos, and Ninjo Jeddy “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing.
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Intro: What you are about to hear is the hollow something of your pulse inside your skull.
Hello, and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries, everything is Evil always. You are Evil. I am Evil. Everything is Evil. Sometimes, there is only Evil. I am CEO Corin Deeth III. Shareholders, last time I told you about getting lost in the building while I was wandering around. I told you about finding some of my grandfather’s gummies as the building shifted and finding myself pretty intoxicated. I told you about Monster Kakos. I told you about the heart. It seems that my team, my coworkers, my staff, think that perhaps I did not encounter the heart. No matter how drenched in that inky, Evil matmos I was. No matter how much my story jibes with similar stories. They think that a potent psychoactive gummy with traces of hallucinogens, painkillers, and sedatives was enough to make me think I had visited the heart. It doesn’t matter that I went through Monster Kakos feeling stone cold sober in between. It’s simply too unlikely that I should witness such a thing, and that thing probably doesn’t exist anyway, if we’re being honest. I would like to say that I have an argument to make here, but realistically, I could have made the whole thing up. I could have experienced a long and elaborate hallucination. It could have been delayed by days or weeks. I could still be waiting on the worst of it to hit for all I know. My blood and urine tests have been clean, but this could be some unknown psychoactive chemical that could do just about anything. That’s not true, of course. Each gummy contained about 5 milligrams of THC and what amounts to a microdose of LSD. The painkiller was just ordinary morphine and the sedative was a small amount of diazepam. Theres no megas or darks anywhere in that list. I’m not exactly sure why my grandfather was taking psychedelics and a benzo at the same time. It’s kind of a waste of both of them. But nothing here was in a dosage that was particularly heroic. Eating a handful of them was not a good idea, I admit, but I didn’t know what they were. The effects largely should have worn off in a day or two. I think the most surprising thing about these gummies was that there was no MDMA. Was my grandfather trying to clean up his act? Really. All the same, maybe I absentmindedly ate another, or a piece came loose in my teeth and I swallowed it days later. I wasn’t exactly practicing great dental hygiene. I didn’t have a toothbrush or a sink. I was more concerned about getting home. So the hallucination hypothesis is there. I’m almost inclined to believe it myself. It’s easier than the borderline supernatural experience I had. But then there’s the question of these dreams I’ve been having. Nightmares, maybe. Sometimes they’re nice, but in ways that are uncomfortable. One recurring aspect is I find myself floating on my back in a pool of the viscous black liquid I was pulled down into. It’s body temperature and sort of difficult to perceive unless I turn my head to see it. It’s terrifying initially. I don’t know how deep the liquid is, nor do I know what could be below me. In the moment I believe completely that this is not a feeling to be run from. I shouldn’t try to swim or escape, but continue to simply float. It’s a struggle. Then I feel hands. They are soft, and gentle, first on my back and my neck, almost like a massage. It’s difficult to know how many hands there are at first. They rub my arms, and my thighs. I feel my body wanting desperately to let go, to yield entirely to these hands, to melt into this puddle, or pond, or lake, or ocean of shiny black liquid, lit ambiguously from above. Then, they rise from the liquid. Their bodies are usually feminine, curvaceous silhouettes of shiny black ooze. They are as solid to the touch as any person, but simultaneously covered with and completely composed of this same liquid. Their hair is ooze, their bodies are slick. Touching them, you feel as though there might be flesh just under the liquid, but you never quite touch it directly. Their eyes are completely black and the only way you can get any idea where they’re looking is from the direction their heads are facing, although you feel as though they might not be looking anywhere at all. There are usually two of them. One has a sharp nose and more angular cheekbones, shoulders, and hips. The other is rounder and softer in features and body. They communicate wordlessly, but their intentions are clear: They will submit completely to my desires, but I have no choice but to make them do exactly that. It’s an uncomfortable dynamic for me, of course. I have the feeling that things are not quite real and maybe my actions don’t matter, but there is this insistence that I act, and if I am anything less than truthful about what it is I want, then there will be consequences.
There are many of you listening right now that would love to hear every sordid detail about what I’ve done during these dreams. The feelings and sensations. The boundaries pushed and lines gently crossed. The desires and the experiments. Others are looking around nervously waiting for me to stop recounting even the most interesting example of what is essentially a sex dream. That’s pretty much been the reaction among my friends and healthcare team. Either, yes, please keep telling me in every detail about this vivid fantasy of yours, or no, please let this end mercifully. There are few are in the middle. Kimmie tends to show little interest, unless we’re getting intimate, at which point she wants to know everything. To be fair, I’m not sharing because I find the dreams to be so exciting that I think others will feel the same, but instead because they are unusual, and perhaps a sign of something. I need more minds working on this problem. These dreams involving the two dark silhouettes of inky liquid, though certainly uncomfortable in ways, are far more pleasant than the others. There are other dreams. I always begin floating on my back in a seemingly limitless pool of black liquid. There is a strong white light coming from above, but I can’t tell where. There is a cave ceiling above me, and a sense that I am somewhere deep. Sometimes it’s the humanoid figures. Other times, It’s not fingers I feel, but long tendrils, probing and prodding. I’ll leave that one there because I know a lot of you would find it too exciting, and I just don’t want you to have that. Again, I feel my body looking for a release in the experience. There is a desire to yield, but I find it nearly impossible. In yet another scenario, I am floating when something large, larger than anything I’ve seen, opens its jaws, forces them up through the surface of the liquid around me, and then closes its jaws over me, chewing me painlessly before swallowing me into oblivion. That one’s probably my least favorite if I’m being honest. And I’m realizing now that even that one is probably turning someone on. They don’t feel particularly sexy in the moment. They feel intense, and real, and terrifying, and suffice it to say I haven’t been sleeping well. There are other dreams where I sink. There are dreams where if I budge and inch, I feel the wreckage of hundreds of shipwrecks scraping at my limbs just beyond vision. There are dreams where I hear voices, but they’re not in any language I’ve ever studied. I understand them, though, but I can never remember what they say. I’ve started keeping a journal for these sorts of dreams, but I can never remember the words, or even sort of what they were telling me. It’s frustrating.
Kimmie really seems to be too understanding of my fitful sleep, even when it disturbs her at night. She’s not always in my bed, but she does her best to soothe me when she is. I don’t think she fully believes my story, but she can tell that something is going on. Everyone can tell that something is going on. I wish I had more to tell them. The medical team has given me sleeping medications that help me to skip the dreams, but you can only take those for so many days before either they stop working for a time, or you get tired of the strange, groggy hangover. Honestly, I know how all of this sounds. At Kakos Industries, we do science. We do the darkest of science. We experiment, and we hypothesize, and we test, and we understand. We learn. We look for repeatable results. We look for explanations in natural phenomena, and then we try to bend it until it breaks. I’ve said before we’ve never found souls or anything remotely spiritual. Certainly, some of us are spiritual, but that isn’t because of the work we do. It doesn’t inform our spirituality. Not usually, anyway. But perhaps I’ve been having a crisis of faith. Perhaps I’m not dealing with fundamental powers of the cosmos, or an all powerful god, but I’m potentially dealing with something larger than myself. I said last time that a great mystery is sometimes better than numerous explanations, but it’s entirely possible that if we dug down and studied and explored, we would eventually know exactly what all of this is. We would know exactly what happened to me. We would know exactly what the heart is and why it behaves the way it does. But I’m not sure we have the time, or the people, or the energy to understand something so intentionally and potently obscure. And, after all, it could just be a bad trip I took.
Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a singing bowl. At the designated time, you struck it exactly once, and this broadcast began. Inside the bowl is a measure of black liquid, but it is not THAT black liquid. I’ve been a little fixated, and I thought you should have the experience as well, but this is a different kind of weeblack liquid. It’s still kind of eerie. And there is something just under the surface, but I would leave it there if I were you. Don’t touch the liquid. Don’t put your hands in it. Do not play in the liquid with your dolls like it’s some kind of goth hot tub. Just listen, and leave it alone. This radio comes to us from Damien’s Sacred Nik-Naks and our Division of Resonance. The bowl actually vibrates at exactly the frequency of this broadcast and the two frequencies feed back on one another keeping the bowl vibrating far longer than otherwise possible. When the bowl stops vibrating, that will be your cue to put it outside and forget all about it. If the bowl starts smoking, then you definitely should have put it outside at least five minutes ago. Try not to breathe the fumes. If you’re not a shareholder, or there is someone who is not yet a shareholder near you, the bowl may begin smoking earlier. You should certainly avoid that circumstance at all costs.
We recently had the CEO Festival of the Dance. I had one of the nastier nightmares the night before so I was sleep deprived and a little distracted. I barely remember the festival if I’m being completely honest. The Division of Dionysia showed me the entrants on Thwicc Thwocc. It was a masterclass in rhythmic movement. And also a trainwreck of uncoordinated flailing. All of it was just perfect. The handful of you that were deemed great enough, or otherwise entertaining enough, by the review team were invited down. You competed against one another before me. I trusted in the instincts of my fellow judges because I simply could not concentrate, and what is an executive without their support staff? Robert Bastulon won. I do not remember his routine. Quinzy Wackles came in fourth. I can remember a bit of that one because it was real thirsty. Unfortunately, the Mega Thrillz theme park in Christ Hole, Texas has been shut down due to lack of staff, so Quinzy will have to wait to be used as a thrill ride tester.
Coming up we have the Festival of Somnambulation. Many of you will remain home for this event. There is an art project, You will be working on a piece of a larger whole. You will not know what the larger whole looks like until everyone is done, and we’ve all woken up.
We also have the Festival of Fertility coming up. It has been a strange time for anyone to conceive these days, but should you wish to, we have established a protocol for at least part of what we used to do. You’re already going to be subjecting your body to unknown sperm, which I have been assured is from real deep in the balls, so you might as well make a day of it. The Division of Dionysia and the Division of Fertility have shown me some early plans that give me pause. Part of the plan involves centaurs. I’ll just tell you that. I’m not sure if that’s final, or a placeholder, or what. I know a couple of you just changed your mind about your participation, some deciding not to participate, but others decided that this is their year after all. We accept you. We still think it’s weird.
I revisited Monster Kakos with Junior.
JUNIOR: Can I speak now?
CORIN: I didn’t tell you you weren’t allowed to speak. I said you weren’t allowed in here at all.
JUNIOR: I knew you would be regaling your faithful shareholder listeners with the tales of our escapades in the depths of Monster Kakos so I made sure I was here to help.
CORIN: Are you afraid that I’m going to tell the story wrong?
JUNIOR: That’s basically it, yes. And let’s be honest, Corin. There are rather large swaths of this story that you do not remember.
CORIN: I had alcohol poisoning. I could have died.
JUNIOR: You may not be a monster, Corin, but you are made of stronger stuff than that. That liver of yours is not so different from that of father’s.
CORIN: He worked up to it. Trained for it. I rarely have more than a cup of green tea.
JUNIOR: Yes, well, poor life decisions aside, perhaps we should begin the story.
CORIN: If you’re going to interrupt me every five seconds, then maybe I should just let you tell it.
JUNIOR: And let you interrupt me every five seconds? As if. And I suppose I should respect that these are your shareholders, not mine.
CORIN: Fine. So it was shortly after the last broadcast that I started to receive pages and pages of reports of the work going on down in Monster Kakos. Some of it was truly as Junior described it. It was beastly. It was rough around the edges. It was dark and aggressive. Not necessarily worse than what we do up here, but there was a certain character to it that was undoubtedly monstrous. When academics disagreed, there were references to trials by combat. Growls and roars were included in the research paper abstracts. It was clear that things down there worked differently. All the same, I was happy to know what was going on. Fast forward about a week and Kimmie tells me she’s going to be out that night with Edwina, and I say that’s fine, of course. They were working on some sort of spiral thruster something or other. I don’t think Eddie does euphemisms, so that was probably exactly what they were doing. I try to encourage them to, I don’t know, be comfortable around each other, but I know that I have a history of staring too intently at Kimmie’s romantic life, so I try to give them their distance.
JUNIOR: You are digressing from the story.
CORIN: I know. It’s flavor. The people like flavor.
JUNIOR: What could have more flavor than the bloody rare steak of story we have for them slapped on a granite slab of intrigue and lightly salted with sensual details?
CORIN: You might be overselling it a bit.
JUNIOR: You are underselling. It had better serve a narrative purpose.
CORIN: You’re interrupting.
JUNIOR: Very well. Continue.
CORIN: So I had a free evening. It turned out that Junior, Soundman, and Brosephus also had a freeevening.ascwell.
JUNIOR: The. Fucking. Boyssssss.
JUNIOR: Boys’ night!
CORIN: You could say that.
JUNIOR: Boys’ night is party night!
CORIN: I think Brosephus is the only one in an actual committed relationship, so it’s not like we can’t usually hang out whenever. We just don’t.
JUNIOR: The stars aligned. It was motherfucking boys’ night.
CORIN: It was a thursday.
JUNIOR: Boysday night. And those boys were up to bad stuff. It was time for the boys to experience Monster Kakos.
CORIN: When you say it like that–
JUNIOR: I know what I said.
CORIN: That’s just a different kind of boys’ night. I would pick different boys for that.
JUNIOR: Lighten up, Corin. A little bit of Monster Kakos never hurt anyone.
CORIN: Do you want me to spoil the ending? I mentioned the alcohol poisoning.
JUNIOR: No. Continue.
CORIN: So it was boys’ night.
CORIN: We got dressed to party.
JUNIOR: I have some shiny pants that really show off my substantial bulge.
CORIN: The rest of us dressed nicely, but casually. Junior explained that if you’re going to display your bulge, you should probably be prepared to defend it. That sounded ominous. So we opted not to display our bulges. I mean, I wasn’t going to anyway. We actually had to sort of strap down Soundman’s bulge to make it less noticeable, which seemed like a crime against Evil.
JUNIOR: The ladies love a bulge.
CORIN: The ladies do not care about a bulge.
JUNIOR: Things are different in Monster Kakos. Beastly. Awful. Terrifying. Bulging.
CORIN: So we were ready to go. Junior led the way. We got in an elevator. There was a code of some sort that you had to enter into the elevator by pressing different floors in a specific order, and then it asked several times on the display screen if we were sure about what we were doing. Junior kept pressing yes. The rest of us were becoming less sure by the second. Soundman produced a flask and we started to pregame. It was a smooth whiskey, nothing fancy. Blended, I wager. It steadied our nerves. Then the elevator began to descend. It descended for a while. My ears popped once. Junior started to dance to music none of us could hear.
JUNIOR: Boys’ night.
CORIN: Right. Then the elevator stopped. The motherfucker was the same elevator I could only go down in when I got lost. The one that took me to, well, you know. Same elevator.
JUNIOR: You just didn’t know the codes.
CORIN: I should know all of the codes. I am the CEO of Kakos Industries. There shouldn’t be things I don’t know. At least not important things. Anyway, Junior lead us out of the building and into the cave systems. It was incredibly lively. There were monsters in the streets. Some of them were already drunk. A couple were making out.
JUNIOR: Monster Kakos works four tens. Thursday night is essentially their Friday night, and they are ready to let loose!
CORIN: So we walked through the caverns, desperately trying to memorize the path in case we would need to make a hasty retreat. We followed Junior, who was occasionally calling out to strange monsters that he knew.
JUNIOR: I have friends.
CORIN: Since fucking when?
JUNIOR: Don’t worry about it.
CORIN: We stopped in one of Junior’s favorite places. A monster dive bar. It was called the Bikini Lounge. Junior held up four fingers and the bartender who was somehow larger than Junior, I mean this bar was enormous, he handed Junior what appeared to be gallon buckets filled with the foamiest, oiliest beer I had ever seen. Junior set down some green gems on the bar. I said to Junior that I would never be able to finish such an enormous pail of alcohol. The bartender looked at me and asked if there was something wrong with me. I was awfully small. And I had no horns or fur. He then asked me if I was a combination of sounds I can’t recreate myself that is apparently a slang term for us topsiders. It felt very offensive. Junior growled at him a bit before bringing him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
JUNIOR: He’s a decent guy, he just gets heated. He was raised in a rough part of town. He doesn’t mean it. Sometimes you just have to remind him that he’s worthy of love.
CORIN: Soundman, Brosephus, and I sat down with our pails of beer and did our best to start sipping. The flavor wasn’t bad by any means, but it was alarming. More savory than you would expect, but smooth, and clean. Decent mouthfeel.
JUNIOR: It’s the blood.
CORIN: I was hoping it wasn’t blood. I… I knew it was blood. Mercifully, the ABV didn’t seem particularly high. All the same, there was not enough room in my stomach for a gallon of beer and we had places to be still. We started pouring bits into Junior’s bucket. He didn’t seem to mind.
JUNIOR: Glerney’s Ale is a favorite of mine. It won a gold medal at the 1896 Monster Fair.
CORIN: Is that the same as human 1896?
CORIN: Okay. Wanting to ease us into the whole monster thing, Junior took us to a busy nightclub. The dance floor was enormous. The smell was horrendous, and a number of large, fierce looking monsters bared their teeth at one another, slashing their claws through the air at one another. It was dancing. I’m pretty sure. They also presented their various bulges if they had one. They each seemed to take dramatic offense to the bulges of the others and started to dance harder as a result. Junior jumped into the fray with the other monsters, indicated to his bulge, and started to slash frantically to the time of the music. They all slashed and bared teeth, and grinded a bit on each other.
JUNIOR: What can I say, my dudes were just kind of hot.
CORIN: I turned around to check on my other companions–
JUNIOR: Your boys.
CORIN: My other boys. Brosephus had found a shadow to hide in, and Soundman was being cradled by a large lady monster who was using a straw to dribble a cocktail into his mouth drop by drop. This scene was getting a little intense. I attempted to explain to the lady monster that we needed to go and that I needed my friend back. She was pretty wasted. She said, “Bulge?” I really wasn’t sure exactly what to do, but I sort of… grabbed myself, tried to sort of cup it. She made some kind of face. I don’t know if it was approval or disappointment or some sort of monster emotion I don’t experience, but she offered Soundman to me. She wouldn’t just set him down. She had to put him in my arms. I held him and thanked her. Soundman nodded to her and sort of cupped himself. She nodded back satisfied and jumped onto the dance floor. The other monsters began a playful tug of war with her. I was scared, but she seemed to be loving all of the attention. It’s not my place to judge.
JUNIOR: It’s completely consensual, Corin. They may be monsters, but they understand boundaries. A lot of the actions are symbolic. There is a rich history to them. They are sometimes quite beautiful. This was the moment where I was about to display my bulge to the fine lady in our midst when I noticed my boys were getting ready to sneak out.
CORIN: We were just afraid we would get stepped on. It was getting so warm and humid inside also. I mean, Monster Kakos has a smell. I really hate the way that sentence sounded just now. It’s like a sulfur and sweat kind of smell.
JUNIOR: It’s musky. It’s real.
CORIN: I stepped outside of the club and I… threw up. I was very drunk and the beer didn’t agree with me. Junior said he knew just the right thing and took us to another bar. A lounge, with fancy cocktails. He set down a couple of red gems and we were all given cocktails in human sized glasses. What we didn’t know is that somehow, there was more alcohol in these glasses than should have been possible. More than 100%.
JUNIOR: It was not ethanol.
CORIN: Whatever it was, my body couldn’t process it. I immediately blacked out.
JUNIOR: Which means it’s my turn to tell the story! Yes! Mwaha! First we went down to a tattoo parlor, but the artist refused to tattoo The Motherfucking Boys on all of us because the humans were too small and also reeked of alcohol. Then we got ice cream. Mine was bloodcream flavored.
CORIN: I only remember throwing it up. You know human stomachs aren’t supposed to handle that much raw blood.
JUNIOR: It was just goat’s blood. Then we gambled a bit in the street, threw the old goats’ knuckles. Soundman lost his flask. Corin lost his watch. Brosephus made several gembles.
CORIN: I don’t wear a watch.
JUNIOR: You stole it.
CORIN: What the fuck. And they’re called gembles?
CORIN: What happened next?
JUNIOR: The strip club.
CORIN: I remember the strip club. I woke up, um… I was between… um…
JUNIOR: Two great big monster tits, and they were majestic.
CORIN: It was kind of cozy. All I’m saying is I’ve been worse places. Anyway, I think this is where we lost Soundman.
JUNIOR: We found him. Eventually.
CORIN: And I threw up again, and we were escorted out the building because throwing up on dancers is frowned upon. I sprawled out in the middle of the street waiting for a car to run me over, except there aren’t any cars.
JUNIOR: They drove around you.
CORIN: I threw up again. Then Soundman came out of the strip club. Apparently he was offered some sort of show and was curious. He must have found some gembles somewhere. I applaud his adventurous nature, but I was surprised. Then he started to throw up. Brosephus had already been quietly vomiting in the alleyway. That’s when Junior gave me another beer. I blacked out again. What’s that Soundman? I don’t know that gesture. I think he’s trying to describe the show he saw. I’ll have to get him to write it down or draw some pictures. I don’t know that one Soundman. Are you sure that’s real. He’s like pounding his chest but with jerk off motions or something.
JUNIOR: Ah, that’s a special treat. The dancer must have liked you.
CORIN: So I don’t remember what happened next.
JUNIOR: It was mostly vomiting. There was also some pizza, and then more vomiting.
CORIN: I’ll have to give you a list of chemicals my body can actually process.
JUNIOR: Corin was back to laying in the street when Grace showed up. She put on some gloves before throwing Corin over her shoulder and marching off with him.
CORIN: I don’t remember any of that. I woke up in the infirmary back in regular Kakos.
JUNIOR: Brosephus and Soundman weren’t in much better shape, so I led them back home.
CORIN: Soundman is indicating that it was the worst hangover of his life, but he enjoyed the cultural experience. Brosephus also had an interesting time, though he was sleeping on the couch for a few days. I guess I’m glad it happened. Next time I would do it differently. Do you go down there often, Junior?
JUNIOR: Oh, hells, no. I can’t party like that too often myself. And, I can only go down there so often, you know.
CORIN: Why’s that?
JUNIOR: They get weird around me. Too human.
CORIN: That fucking sucks.
JUNIOR: That’s life.
CORIN: Well, thanks for taking us down there.
JUNIOR: Anything for my boys. Next time we’ll have to go to the theater. There is a rich tradition of monster drama. It’s all theater in the round. And the poetry. It’s beautiful.
CORIN: That sounds more like my speed.
JUNIOR: I shall leave you to the rest of your announcements. Your retelling was…. Adequate.
CORIN: See you later.
So in the infirmary, Grace wanted to run some additional tests on me. In addition to filling me with activated charcoal. It seems that Grace has been worried about my dreams. She’s worried that what I said was true, and that there might be some sort of infection or infiltration. Grace knows far more about Evils lying deep within Kakos than practically anyone. She knows more about the Matmos, and the other Evil fluids. She knows about the lakes of this stuff deep, deep in the ground. And apparently she doesn’t trust it. When she heard that my dreams were asking me to yield to varying degrees of power and discomfort, she began to worry that the heart had motives separate or incompatible with Kakos Industries the business. She worried that it might be trying to influence me, or change me. And she wanted to reverse the process. There isn’t much information on how to do that, but she gave me a potion of some sort. I know, potion sounds really scientific. It wasn’t. I trust Grace completely, so I drank it. I threw up again, and then I passed right back out. I dreamt. I dreamt of the inky black silhouettes. But Grace was there. They clawed at her and screamed. I woke up. Grace was watching over me. She let loose one of those low moans of hers that shake the building. There was more work to be done. I would need to permit the Tabitha’s to watch over me. I agreed. Grace wiped a bit of black ooze from under my nose.
The dreams have been less frequent since then.
The Division of Figuring Out What All of These Keys Go To found a key that opened another key, which had a key inside of it. One member of their staff just fucking quit. Then and there. That was the last straw. I don’t blame them.
Things have been quiet in Hell. Or at least they’ve been no noisier than Monster Kakos. The two regions have to be connected somehow, right? Except the monsters didn’t look like those monsters. Or maybe the vibe is just different. I feel like a lot of the monsters in Hell are of dubious sapience. Maybe we need more complicated language here. At any rate, I think my hopes for a monster arm are on hold. One foreign presence in my body at a time.
I described a bit of what I had seen in Monster Kakos to Jasmine Aashna and Dr. Dunkelwissen and they took some furious notes. It would appear that aggressive dancing is now on the agenda. Fucking@Home continues to fold bodies into wild orientations. Hopefully they’ll get something interesting soon.
Gidara versus Umlauticon was a Kaiju Battle reenactment for the ages. I was sort of wiped the fuck out while it was on and it was perfect entertainment. I cannot stress enough how much I love what they do with cardboard and green screens. Up next is Arachnofrack vs. Hwuth. It’s gonna get gnarly.
They say that Evil once ran for mayor of a small town on the platform of just burning the motherfucker down. It won a plurality of votes. That town is still burning to this day. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we’re taking credit for autocorrect errors, what you meant to say, and what you should have said, but didn’t. As always we can’t be completely sure that we did these things. But we did. And you better fucking believe it or that bowl is going to start smoking.
Ninjo Jeddy has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. That means that Ninjo’s nemesis’s life is about to get weird, and not in a fun way. That nemesis is Foryth. We spun the wheel of misery and it landed on the space for turnt. I feel like we’ve seen that one before. From this day forward, Foryth will be 40% more turnt always, which is a lot of turnt to be, I can assure you. Monster levels of turnt. This is going to have dramatic, instantaneous consequences for Foryth. For Evil measure, Ninjo Jeddy will be 13% less turnt. It’s going to be hard to really get down, but not impossible.
The Damnation and Ruination Squad have been running around covered in what appears to be human fur. We’re not sure if they’ve done something to just grow their body hair really long or if they have somehow dressed themselves in human fur, but it is undoubtedly human. We did lab tests. Gross.
This brings us to the end of the broadcast, shareholders. I think we’ve all got a little bit to mull over. Take that singing bowl outside before it begins to smoke. It will be taken care of. 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 Ryan Jenkins, and the credits are read by Briauna Kittle, a temperature sensitive dark knight. 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.com/discord. 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, Lex, Jack Attack, Valerie Koop, Dwight Spencer, Hemlock Yew, Damien Scott-Viker, and A. Rupert. Also thanks to honored employees Calico, who drew in the chalk grid, and Rocket who threw the stone, and Kirstina Kirkland, who did some damn hopscotch. 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 begun knitting a container ship. We all know it’s going to be bad, we’re just excited to see how bad. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology, directed by Craig Czyz, has recently gotten out the rotary pwn. It’s like a rotary phone, but someone always gets pwned. The Division of Subtle Efficiency Increases, directed by Danniel R Smith, has applied a small amount of adhesive to all of the office chairs. It’s just enough to fight those momentary impulses to get up and wander. The Division of Saying It the Long Way, directed by Dino Schroeder, has been workshopping “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk that, but okay, I’m in.” The Division of Kakos Kafeteria Reviews, directed by Seth and Josh, has reviewed the Handful of Spices restaurant. “Interesting flavor combinations, and innovative smells. 22/25”. The Division of Improbable Cookbooks, directed by Hayden Neff has been working on Cooking with Condensation. It’s sort of like distilling, but without the first part. The Division of Lesser Known Napping Locations, directed by Sass Master J, has found the rock in the rock garden that is perfectly weathered to fit a human torso. It’s hard, but very comfortable. The Division of Uneven Surfaces, Directed by The Doctor, has been rolling marbles around the third floor lounge. It’s uneven, but in several directions at once. The Division of Hallway Wandering, directed by Jack, has been strolling down Hallway 22-22-44-f. It’s a tube and no one knows why. The Division of Animal Stacking, directed by The One True Dave, stacked a thousand ants. It wasn’t worth all the bites, but it was pretty cool. The Division of More Monday Mondays, directed by Odie, has discovered a way to make Mondays that much more Monday. It is cleaning out the fridge because everything is spoiled. The Division of Villainous Introspection, directed by Sarah, has looked long into the mirror. Evil does suit us, the division thinks. It looks fabulous on us. But why? Why does it looks so great?. The Division of Creative Upcycling, directed by Trash Baphomet, has turned a big cable spool into a coffee table slash torture device. The Division of New Card Game Mechanics, led by Finn, has developed a three sided card, which can be flipped over twice for extra surprises. The Division of Low Stakes Heists, directed by Zoë V has recently pulled off an elaborate scheme to distract the snack vender and steal exactly one half of a bag of peanuts. 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 living authentically to show it who’s in charge.