53 – Spat

in which you feel a pinch on your ear, the Water and Earth Festivals are recapped, preparations are made to get really hairy everywhere, Wyoming becomes more promiscuous, you beg for some vitamin D, Corin finds a board game he’s been missing, and Anaya Namaya “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.


What you are about to hear will pry open the doors on your closed mind.

Hello, and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. You are the shareholders, and I am Corin Deeth III, CEO. It is wonderful to hear from me again, is it not? Just a breath of crisp, clean, fresh air right in your eardrums. Just a pleasant visit in your home, or wherever you have your radios delivered. It’s refreshing. And fun. And relaxing. And for some of you, this is the start of your personal time. The lock-the-door kind of personal time. But we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to talk about Evil. I apologize if my tone is more informal, shareholders. You see, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the beach. I’ve felt cool breezes and sand between my toes, and what I’m pretty sure is salt water lapping over my body. Everything has been so peaceful. Except for the small hurricane that I’m pretty sure we started. And also the war with the half-fish people. And the subsequent mating with the remaining half-fish people, which was, oddly enough, their idea. That fisherman I spoke to once upon a time wasn’t entirely right regarding birth control. The half-fish did have dolphin skin condoms, which is apparently a new development. Despite these strange prophylactics, I am confident at least one woman on my staff is now carrying a quarter-fish baby. We are all excited to see what that looks like. I’ve extended our stay on the beach here a little longer. I mean, the vacation is over, so everyone is working really hard and they’re forbidden from visiting the beach too much, but at least I get to relax some more. That’s what this company needs, a relaxed CEO.

Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a suspicious seashell. Usually, when you put your ear to a seashell, you can hear the ocean. Or just resonant noise that sounds like the ocean. I mean what would it mean if things made the sound of the place they were found? I mean, everything we make would sound like screaming and fearful whimpering. It’s the soundtrack we like to play in our factories. Anyway, when you put your ear to this seashell, you did not hear the ocean. At first, you heard a small claw grabbing onto your ear with some force, and then another metallic arm wrapped around your head so that you could not remove this seashell if you tried. Please don’t worry. The seashells should release you within a few minutes to a few hours of the completion of this broadcast. Assuming I remember to turn the broadcast off at the end. I’ll… I’ll remember. Soundman Steven will remind me. Right? He ‘s nodding. This lovely head hug you’re getting right now has been brought to you by our work with Ocean Acoustics, whose sound systems are specifically tuned to provide you with the best experience listening to beach music. Songs about margaritas and piña coladas. Sun kissed skin. Surfing. You know what we’re getting at here. Under normal circumstances, these devices help people to relax and forget their worries, especially the ones they aren’t supposed to forget. Like the oven being on. Or children being at daycare. Or that there’s a plane to land. Under normal listening conditions, there will not be a shell stuck to your head. That’s something we added extra for you shareholders. You see, even though I am now fully back in my old position here at Kakos Industries, I have to remind you that I’m Evil. And also that you should never support anyone but me in any future wars. I am the CEO. There shall be no others. Until I’m dead. Or if I want to retire or something. That’s a long way from now.

We recently had the Water Festival. You know, the festival where we stare wistfully into the ocean waters, contemplating their vastness, and our smallness. The festival where we dance in the water, and we thrash in the water. The festival that is definitely not about any underwater colonies we may have started. I mean, the only underwater colony I know about is doing just fine. That can’t be something we did, then. That’s not Evil. That’s not dark or painful. It’s definitely not a festival about any colony that we’ve forgotten the location of and therefore cannot aim torpedoes at. It’s definitely not a festival about how fucking frustrated that makes us. They had a bake sale, shareholders. A bake sale. Underwater. With ingredients they grew themselves. And baked goods they made themselves. It’s just so disappointing. On the upside, it does appear that they are now receiving transmissions from above, so maybe we can start a riot using old television programs. We’ll get to them. Somehow.

The Earth Festival happened. We were on the beach. Then we were not. Many of us have eerily similar stories about what we saw when the “earth” kicked in. Traveling on the backs of flying dogs. Drawing swords from the bodies of dead ancient beasts. Loud classic rock music from bands we’re pretty sure don’t exist. Tastes and smells we couldn’t place. We had to team up against this giant “good” monster. This monster that just wanted everyone to be friends and happy. This monster that was concerned for our health and safety. And we had to take it down using our most devious Evils. We had to convince it that its goodness was a fault. We had to teach it that the world is mean and nasty. We had to break its heart and rub it in the mud. It was exhilarating. Once it returned crying to the nearby woods, we celebrated in the halls of some ancient underworld. We had done Evil. And we were proud. And then we all woke up on the beach. Under a few feet of sand. We had to fight our way out. Some of us didn’t make it. The rest of us may have wanted to help them, but there is no way to help anyone. Not really. In life, we all have to fight to get to the surface using every ability at our disposal. Our tongues. Our teeth. Hands, too. Obviously. But I mean some people climbed out just using their tongues. It was really impressive. And then we were all reborn from the Earth. I mean, I don’t usually think of sand as earth, but by some definitions, I’m sure it is. That’s when the fish people came up from the ocean. They’re really shitty at fighting on land, by the way. It was easy to defeat them, even after fighting to get out of the sand. Like, just really easy.

Coming up again this year, we have the Nudity Festival combined with the UltraNudity Festival. New this year, the event will be combined with the DarkMegaNudity Festival as well. We were supposed to do that last year, but the page with the details was stuck to the one facing it. The team in the Division of Squirts and Their Subsequent Cleanup finally got that page and a couple of others unstuck. They’ve been working on it off and on since last year. That must have been some squirt. The additional details for this DarkMegaNudity component indicate that we should all sport “full bush”. No trimming, no shaving, no maintenance of any sort in the pubic region. In regards to other body parts, the official rule seems to be “let it all grow wild”. I understand that some of you might feel a little bit uncomfortable with this. Either you’re used to trimming or you’re used to seeing others who are trimmed and shaved. I promise you we will all survive. We might even enjoy the change. Evil will occur. Some of you may be concerned that there simply isn’t enough time to grow a full bush between now and the celebration. This is mostly correct, depending on your particular level of hair growth. All I can say is best of luck. Or buy a merkin. Or take hair growth supplements. Or skin a bear and wear its skin to the event. Just get as hairy as you can. Starting now. Put down the razor.

Shareholders, I have news from our renegade sex toy. In case you’ve forgotten since we last talked about this, we gave a semi-sentient sex toy the task of reducing inhibitions and increasing promiscuity worldwide. You see, sex is ours. Some people may argue that it’s actually good and that the good were just confused for a couple thousand years, but it’s ours. We’ve gotten used to it. It’s gotten used to us. So it spits in the face of the good when we have sex and increase sexuality. The sex toy was supposed to remove those sexual hangups that the good created, trying to keep people chaste. It typically did this through aggressive vibration settings, and a compassionate and understanding blinking LED. The trouble is that the device discovered an ever growing need to also remove the sexual hangups of loved ones and extended networks of each individual it worked with. So it escaped. I am told that Wyoming is now 30% more promiscuous. That is impressive. The trouble is that we do not control this device anymore. It is merely following its code. That makes us uneasy. At any rate, we got a new photo from the device. It’s a selfie. It’s on a city street somewhere. Behind it, there are just a whole bunch of couples doing it. All over the place. Just getting to it. Doing it, and a lot of it. In public. The key detail though is the old couple walking down the street behind the robot. They’re not judging anyone. They’re not complaining or scolding. They’re just smiling and moving on with their business. It’s better than we could have hoped for. And we may have had nothing to do with it.

Brosephus tried to teach me to surf, but it may have been a doomed endeavor from the start. I mean, I showed the same natural talent I have for everything that I do, but I found the exercise boring. So then he went about trying to be my wingman. Many of our employees were on the beach, dressed in their Evil swimsuits or sometimes nothing at all. Many of them seemed awkward on the beach. They were often the palest shade that their skin tone could afford, crying out for the production of some vitamin D. Many of them had hair styles requiring far too many products for the beach or humidity in general. Most of them rested under large sun-blocking umbrellas. They may have needed vitamin D, but instead, they got vitamin Deeth. Which is to say that I was hitting on them. I did run into a snag, though. Do you ever get tired of people wanting you to dominate them, shareholders? I mean, it can be exciting, and we all know I like resting my feet on the backs of my underlings, but it’s kind of just one note. Over and over again. Just one note. “Dominate me, Corin!” “My safe word is Plecostomus, Corin!” Maybe I just want to meet someone on equal footing from time to time, you know? Anyway, I might have had sex with some of those people. Nothing particularly noteworthy.

Corin: Oh, fuck no! Is that a fucking fanfare again?

King: Corin!
Corin: Leopold.
King: Your majesty.
Corin: You know I’m not going to call you that.
King: Not even for a dying man?
Corin: Dying? How?
King: You stabbed me, Corin.
Corin: Like a week ago. It wasn’t even that bad. You just doubled over and started crying until your servants took you away.
King: I’m afraid your stab wound is spreading.
Corin: I didn’t poison the blade. Did you poison the blade?
King: Don’t be silly, Corin. Why would I want us to hurt each other? I want us to love each other.
Corin: Then I’m confused.
King: It’s all very simple, Corin. I have a rare genetic defect that comes from generations of handsome inbreeding. It makes stab wounds spread and duplicate throughout my body. I’m now covered in stab wounds.
Corin: That makes no sense.
King: You’ll have to take my word for it, Corin. I’m dying. Because you stabbed me.
Corin: It was a duel! You were threatening to mobilize your army against our company. I don’t know if you know this, but we just got out of an insurrection type thing and I’m not willing to let my people get hurt. At least by other people.
King: I could have been your people, Corin. We could have been joined as one.
Corin: I’m honored, Leopold, I really am. A life of majesty and royalty would be amazing. Being pampered and taken care of, and being able to break any law in your realm without fear of retribution. It’s a dream come true. But I have bigger things to take care of now. I run this company. This is my life. And it’s meaningful to me.
King: You wouldn’t leave your post for just one day? To see a dying man? To give me one last taste of what we used to have? That sweetness? That Evil?
Corin: I… I really shouldn’t.
King: I need you, Corin. I’m not long for this world. I want to see you one last time. You and that supple bottom.
Corin: I suppose I could drop by.
King: And love me like you once did.
Corin: That was like one weekend!
King: Four glorious days, and four steamy nights.
Corin: You’re exaggerating.
King: Visit me, Corin. Pay respects to your dying lord.
Corin: I will never think of you as my lord.
King: Oh, you wound me again, Corin. I need to see you. I’ve lived a life of unimaginable wealth and privilege, but none of it compared to the time I spent with you. Everything lost its flavor after that.
Corin: You’re making me uncomfortable.
King: Why won’t you let me have you, Corin? I get everything I want!
Corin: This is just getting sad.
King: You left your copy of Tabletop Space Settlers in my castle, Corin.
Corin: That’s where that went? Shit. That’s out of print.
King: I know. And I’ve even replaced the pieces you were missing. No more cardboard and marker.
Corin: Send it to me.
King: You’ll have to come get it, Corin.
Corin: Motherfucker.
King: Corin-fucker, I hope.
Corin: I’m going to come get the game, and then I’m going to leave. Nothing is going to happen.
King: We’ll see about that. I look forward to your visit, Corin!
Corin: That fucking guy.

Alright, shareholders, let’s wrap this up. Anaya Namaya has won this week’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of her nemesis will be ruined. Anaya has selected Okie Bocchiocchi as her nemesis. We spun the Wheel of Misery sardonically this time, and it landed on the place for “A Whole Lot of Testitcles”. As soon as we can get to this individual’s residence, they will be over encumbered with testicles in their body. It does not indicate on any of the paperwork I have what Okie’s anatomy may contain at present, but rest assured that they will have just a whole lot of testicles soon. Like too many to close their legs. Too many to walk comfortably. And it says here that they’ll be really sensitive testicles, so accidentally sitting on them will be agony. Also, they’re going to produce a whole lot of testosterone. Enough to throw anyone’s physiology out of whack. For good measure, Anaya Namaya might end up with a testicle somewhere in her body. We’re not sure where or if we’re even going to go through with it, but it’s a distinct possibility. Best of luck, Anaya, and congratulations on the win.

Evil is like window blinds. If you stare at it long enough, you can convince yourself it’s moving. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. This week, we’re taking credit for fake contests, Nigerian princes, and that one time you actually did win something fantastic, but you didn’t believe it. Please remember that we can’t actually know for certain if we are responsible for any of these things, but we probably are. And if you disagree with that, then please prepare to never win again. Not even the little stuff. It’s going to be a long journey to the bottom.

And that brings us to the end of the broadcast. I think I may be tiring of the ocean. It might be time to head back to the main branch and back to work as usual. Perhaps we should add a beach to one of the many Kakos lawns. If there isn’t one now. I can’t remember. I’m not looking forward to visiting Leopold, but I do want my game back. Maybe… maybe I’ll have the opportunity to kill him again. I suppose that could be enjoyable. I admit that the thought of being royalty is fun, but it’s also kind of disgusting. Like, why does that still exist? Perhaps it’s not my place to say. The numbers are next. Then you will be allowed to remove the seashell from your head. It may have left a mark. That mark may be a face tattoo. That face tattoo may be the Kakos logo. Who knows? I do. I know.


Kakos Industries is written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth. The music is also composed by Conrad Miszuk. The introduction is read by Kim Aiello, and the credits are read by Hanna Jones, who is currently twisting and shouting. Special Guest appearance in this episode by Andrew Bueker. Check out KakosIndustries.com for more episodes. There’s also transcriptions if you’d rather read the Kakos Industries announcements. That’s K-A-K-O-S-I-N-D-U-S-T-R-I-E-S dot com. Please check out store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers. 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 Facebook (facebook.com/kakosindustries), Tumblr (kakosindustries.tumblr.com), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries).

Special thanks to Patreon patrons Ian Kroall, Dan Shumway, Patrick Green, Renee Stein, Courtney Campbell, and Elizabeth Kreick. Our Patreon patrons are the best. If you want a thank you in the credits 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.

If you’re feeling down after this broadcast, have you considered black and white photography?

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