in which you get nostalgic in the wrong way, you are recovering quite nicely, preparations are made for the Festival of Fertility and the Festival of Somnambulation, which will not be combined, more research is done regarding The Simulgasm, you fantasize about playing fetch, Corin becomes a spaceship captain, and misery just might be the river of the world. Alynna Strong “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.

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What you are about to hear might leave you with a handful of jelly beans.

Hello and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. As always, I am Corin Deeth III, CEO. At Kakos Industries, we help our clients and everyone else to Do Evil Better. Sometimes we help people to Do Evil Better even when they previously had no intention of doing any Evil at all. We just show up, and say, Hey! Choose fast! One Evil thing or another Evil thing. And then they choose, and we get to enjoy watching them do an Evil thing. They could always choose not to do either Evil thing, but that usually involves dying, so they tend to do Evil. It’s amazing just how much Evil you can get people to do when they’re afraid of dying. It’s like a whole lot. Other times, we don’t threaten the target, but instead give them a particularly tantalizing Evil to do and watch them take it. Like living an unexamined life of privilege. So many people just take it. Or free drugs. You’d be surprised how many people do free drugs when you give them to them. It’s like giving candy to a baby.

Today’s broadcast is coming to you from Portable Eviltronics’ leftover stock of portable CRT antenna televisions. It really seems like you have been getting a bit spoiled by all of our new and amazing technology that we send out with every announcement. Well, sometimes you have to clear some space in the old warehouses, and sometimes you get a sweet deal on some left over technology that no one wants anymore. And sometimes you have a captive audience that has to put up with whatever nonsense you send them no matter how dated, dangerous, or just plain smelly. This portable CRT antenna television may remind you of road trips in your family minivan from 1996. Others of you weren’t alive in 1996, and that is troubling for other reasons. At any rate, I would not expect the audio coming from this single mono speaker to be anything special at all. Then again, it didn’t stop you from enjoying a star war or two on glorious VHS tape. To be clear, shareholders, these are not my experiences, but what is actually written on the documentation in front of me. To add to the mediocre sound system, you should expect to hear a high pitch whine the entire length of this broadcast. If your ears are sensitive enough. Now, you might be thinking, hey, this is a television, where is that savory Deeth face I’ve been dying to stare at longingly as I let his deep, sonorous voice lull me into a state of complacent Evil? Well, we just don’t have a camera set up, and my hair is… weird today, and I have the most irritating blemish, so instead we’ve decided to give you wonderful audio visualizers to look at. They might remind you of your first desktop computer in the late nineties that gave you something to look at while your poorly encoded mp3s played back. Again, if you were born. Reading from the spec sheet again, shareholders. Seems like someone over at Portable Eviltronics’ really has it out for this new generation coming up.

I would imagine that many of you are listening to this broadcast from your hospital beds. The CEO Festival of the Dance was a huge success, shareholders, and you really did perform admirably. Some of you, as I just mentioned, performed so hard that you have needed dedicated medical attention to recover. You see, in the past years, the CEO Festival has been a mess. There have been effigies. There have been roasts. There has been a general atmosphere of ridicule. None of that is okay. This is supposed to be a festival about me. I’m not saying that I want everyone to take turns telling me how wonderful I am or telling me what a joy it is to work for me or something. I’m not a total loser. Anyway, I managed to avoid the worst of the mocking decorations by just switching the theme. Now all of the decorations were of me in various dance garments, which is a lot less offensive than the decorators may have thought. There may have been elements of a roast, but rather than using their words to tell me what they think of me, participants were required instead to dance it out. And at the end of their dancing, I was the primary judge. And let me remind you that fourth place in this competition gets sent to the Division of Thrill Ride Testing at the MegaThrillz theme park in Christ Hole Texas, where teeth make you overqualified to work the rides. Like way overqualified. So this gives me a certain amount of control. Lampoon me too hard and you may find yourself in fourth place, testing an incomplete rollercoaster. That was the threat anyway. Let’s talk about highlights. Tyrone Quinn was apparently born with an extra ass cheek, and made incredible use of it when engaging in a new polyrhythmic form of twerking. Are references to twerking still funny? Probably not. We’ve kind of reached peak twerk here. Literally. This guy had three buttocks. Then we had Marlena Mong, who crumped so hard she ended up crumpled on the floor. It was a breathtaking performance. Finally Frank Frankly dropped the darkness, picked it up, stuffed it in his shirt, and ran away with it, which I’m told is a hip new thing to do while body grooving. And then fourth place went to the performance artist Debby Oh No, who basically did a five minute caricature of me that I didn’t like. And before you say that I’m just eliminating people who disagree with me, it wasn’t just my decision, okay? The rest of the executive board also found Debby Oh No’s performance art to be derivative and heavy handed. It’s about subtlety. If there’s one thing you can say about Kakos Industries, it’s that we appreciate subtlety. Subtlety and humanoid penises.

Coming up we have the Festival of Fertility. And the Festival of Somnambulation. For obvious reasons, we will not be combining the two. That just doesn’t seem fair. I am told that at this year’s Festival of Fertility, we will be doing away with the number of GMO gene carriers that look like human men, and will instead have one giant humanoid member in the center of the room that will at intervals throughout the night just fire an unimaginable amount of human genetic material into the air and onto those visiting the event. Some of that will be used to bring about the next generation of particularly Evil children, which will eventually find themselves at middle management positions here at Kakos Industries. I am told that, just like in previous years, this genetic donor is actually alive in a manner of speaking and will be ripe for feasting upon after the events are over. I’m a little grossed out, too. Don’t worry. Now, some of you might be wondering what happened with Nipsy Luce’s baby conceived with one of 1,100 men last year. Well, we didn’t say anything out of respect to Nipsy in her time of mourning, but she actually miscarried a few months after the event. It’s an extremely common occurrence, as you might know. Sometimes pregnancies aren’t divinely given by some sort of writer of the fates. Sometimes things don’t work out. As you can understand, Nipsy will not be returning this year. In her place, we have not been able to find anyone yet to take on the excess of male gametes that are boiling over worldwide. But! We do have a gym sock to share. That’s something, right?

The Festival of Somnambulation will occur. You will be there. Unless you never sleep. But in that case you’ve got your own problems.

Shareholders, you might remember that, in the last announcements, I referenced something called the Simulgasm. It was a moment where everyone at Kakos Industries and our shareholders at large experienced a simultaneous climax, and it happened during the Celebration of Self Love. We have a hard time leaving anything to the realm of metaphysics here at Kakos Industries, so we’ve been sciencing our asses off trying to find out an answer to this confusing event. An event, I will remind you, that I was not a part of. It seems that the Cult of Ohh Ahh have taken this as a signal that a new sexual messiah has arrived here on Earth to lead them to even greater heights of ecstasy. We’ve been keeping an eye on their activities. In other religious traditions, the search for the new messiah would come down to children who were born at the same time as the previous messianic figure died. For the Cult of Ohh Ahh, they are instead looking for adults who had a particularly intense sexual awakening at the time of Bazzizzazizz-Ah’s death. I understand that they have narrowed this search down to a number of candidates, one of which I am not at all pleased to hear about. I’ll get to that another time. Our best hypothesis from the science side of things is that the person sitting at the helm of the mind control experiments we’re basically always running had a certain intensity of climax at their desk, causing them to lose control and move a number of knobs and sliders on the control board, which may have actually found a frequency that interacted with human sexuality in just the right was as to lead all of you to the Simulgasm. Still no word on why it didn’t affect me, if that is indeed the explanation. We’ll get to the bottom of this.

Now, shareholders, I am joined by Dirk Cornelious Sexplosion, who has been waiting patiently to tell me about a new project of his. Something about battle robots.

Corin: Welcome back, Dirk.

Dirk: Thank you for having me, Corin. And thank you for forgiving my company for dry humping the fuck out of your building with an escaped robot.

Corin: Forgive is a strong word. Tell me about your new project.

Dirk: Get this, Corin: Giant, humanoid robots, that you can pilot.

Corin: Yeah?

Dirk: For consumers. The most inexpensive model yet.

Corin: Alright. That sounds outstanding.

Dirk: I call it the Humongulus 88.3 (repeating). It’s covered in the same human-skin-analogue as our sex robots, and its facial expressions are estimated to be 77% not creepy.

Corin: That’s a high percentage of not creepiness. But it’s not the battle robot that we talked about.

Dirk: It can fight, of course. It’s just much better at emoting and expressing itself in 77% not creepy ways.

Corin: The piece of paper I’ve got here says “Welcome Dirk and talk to him about his new humanoid death robot.”

Dirk: The robots can grow old and die. It accurately models humanoid death.

Corin: Oh, fuck, Dirk. What are we supposed to do with that?

Dirk: You get in it. And grow old. Then you get put in a home for old robots.

Corin: Come on, man, it has to be Evil somehow. Does it remind us how stupid and ineffectual we are? Does it reflect a basic inability to control our surroundings? Does it embarrass or intimidate us?

Dirk: I’ve been told it’s very embarrassing.

Corin: Um…

Dirk: It takes that basic human part of you and amplifies it 88.3(repeating) percent! It takes all of your pain and anguish and existential doubt and makes it huge.

Corin: We’re getting warmer.

DIrk: And it also has the added benefit of being able to play with our new DogDog BarkeyBark 2291. It’s a dog-shaped mech suit covered with fur and adorableness.

Corin: You built a mech suit for a dog? I have to say that I do like the possibilities there. Just imagine an energetic dog that doesn’t know its own strength tearing through a city in one of those. What a terror.

Dirk: You don’t put a dog in the suit, Corin.

(A long pause and a sigh from Corin)

Corin: What the fuck, Dirk. I don’t understand. You operate one of the most Evil and most profitable robotics firms in the whole world. I know for a fact that you’ve got some downright diabolical shit in the works right now. I’ve seen footage. I’ve fired gigantic test cannons. And you bring me this stuff.

Dirk: Tell me, Corin, Have you ever played fetch?

Corin: Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ve played fetch.

Dirk: But have you ever been the dog, Corin?

Corin: I’m going to go with no.

DIrk: Then you don’t know the joy. The pure joy. You get someone you trust to pilot the Humongulus, and then you get to just run and play and be a fucking puppy, Corin. You get to be a pup. It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Corin. It’s your lifelong fucking dream.

Corin: I’m not sure that’s true.

Dirk: Don’t lie to me! I can see right through you.

Corin: I mean, I’d try it.

Dirk: Of course you would! Because it’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me! Humanity I mean.

Corin: One quick question, Dirk. Does it help you to Do Evil Better?

Dirk: Well, yeah.

Corin: Perfect. That’s all I need to hear. Thank you for talking with us today. You, um… You gonna go pilot the dog robot?

Dirk: I can quit any time! Do you… want to throw the ball?

Corin: I’ll… I’ll hit you up after work. Thanks for joining us, Dirk.

More pictures of Helga have been popping up all over the building, shareholders. It seems that the facial expression that she and Grace Rule have, that kind of neutral, maybe a little hungry, maybe a little disappointed face that they have, whatever it is exactly that they are, well, it works great for modeling, I guess. There’s a poster of her in the studio here attached to the wall. I haven’t been able to take it down. It’s going to be a problem.

Things have been getting back to normal with Brosephus recently. We even resumed our tabletop RPG with Junior and Soundman. Well, sort of. We had to start over because Junior apparently took it upon himself to finish the game without us, killing all of our characters, and then bedding every maiden in the land as an Evil overlord. Man, that guy has no sense of good storytelling whatsoever. You can’t just make it all about sex all the time. There has to be at least a little bit of other stuff. So anyway, we’ve begun a new campaign. This time, I’m playing as a spaceship captain. Soundman is my science officer. Junior is also a spaceship captain, but of another ship. I guess he didn’t like the idea of being my subordinate. Oh well.

My trips to the Division of Erotic Experiences have been getting stranger. Jasmine now insists on blindfolding me before bringing me into the observation room, where I am then strapped to a chair. At first I protested. Why would I need to be blindfolded in the building that I run? Or tied down? I was thinking to myself, what is it that they don’t want me to see? Something terrible? Then Jasmine put my mind at ease, telling me it was a sex thing for her. That made sense to me. And who am I to restrict someone else’s pleasure. I do what I can. Though I will say that while I was strapped to the observation chair, I heard a sneeze that really sounded like Dr. Dunkelwissen’s sneezes. But I’m sure a lot of people sneeze like that.

I’m told that the drug the Division of Labor has developed to make people more machine-like has a new side effect. Occasionally, the workers will just begin to scream. And then they don’t stop screaming until their voices give out. And then they sort of wheeze before returning to work. Again, nothing to worry about. It’s only a minor annoyance.

The next phase of Meredith Gorgoro’s Misery Engine plan is coming along nicely. Now that she has the Helots working through their anguish, which then powers a machine, she is capable of increasing their misery, and increasing the output of the machine. This may be the most Evil thing to come out of the Hell labor camp, and it is a labor camp far underground. Exciting stuff.

Today, I would like to spotlight yet another employee. Today’s employee is… um… oh dear. I seem to have forgotten the name… and the achievement of the employee. And he… or was it she? Maybe they? They were so excited when I told them. Fuck. This is not how I meant for this to go. Shit.

They say that Evil spontaneously invented good by first inventing lying, and then lying about everything it did. This is things we’re taking credit for now. Today, we’re taking credit for lies, the free speech, and the need to ever communicate in the first place. If you happen to disagree with anything I’ve just taken credit for, then you should start eating dirt. Like, all the dirt you can find. Just start eating it. It’s important. It’s the only way you’ll survive. Eat the dirt. Come on.

Alynna Strong has won the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of Alynna’s nemesis will be ruined. Alynna has selected So-so Soruka as her nemesis. The Wheel of Misery turned and turned and finally arrived at the place for Frailty. From this day forward, So-so Soruka will be known for her frailty. She will struggle to find any strength to do anything at all. For particularly Evil measure, Alynna Strong will be even stronger, making her perhaps too strong. We shall see. Congratulations on the win and best of luck.

This brings us to the end of our broadcast. Did you just feel something shareholders? No? Well, we’re trying out some of those frequencies from the mind control experiment. We’ll find that sweet spot again. It’s out there. Somewhere. Please destroy your portable televisions. You might find that they are somehow sturdier than you imagined. This technology always was. But it must be destroyed. The numbers are next.

27

27

27

27

28

29

1,000,000

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 planning out karaoke songs. Special guest appearance in this episode by Anwar Newton. Check out KakosIndustries.com for more episodes. There’s also transcriptions 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 check out store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers and become a patron at kakosindustries.com/patreon. 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 our esteemed shareholders Iain Croall, Renee Stein, Dan Shumway, Blaise Devletian, and Courtney Campbell. Also thanks to our honored employees Katiana Greer, who managed to eat fifty eggs, and Valerie Koop who really whipped it into shape and shaped it up. 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, Patrick Green, head of The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology, Billy Davis, head of the Division of Splashing, and Lynne Herman, director of the Division of Increasingly Improbably Slash Fiction. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has finished their wall to keep the undead at bay, and have begun to knit some undead to test the wall. The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology has presented what is clearly a fake protist with devil horns attached to it. No one is buying it. The Division of Splashing has lost far too many of their employees to belly flop testing and are currently looking for new recruits looking to make a splash. The Division of Increasingly Improbable Slash Fiction has recently started shipping oil and water. We’re pretty sure it’s not going to work out. 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.

If you’re feeling down after this broadcast, have you considered practicing fire drills?