in which Corin cuts way back, Yule and New Year’s are recapped, preparations are made for The Festival of Darkness and something to do with cars, we continue to wonder about that woman with the eyes, the dangers of radiation become clear, fireworks keep us up, and Am Tubee Izz “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.

Transcription:

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Intro: What you are about to hear may make you feel many times larger than you are.

Greetings and Happy New Year, shareholders. It’s 1989. I hope you’re having a fabulous time here at our New year’s party. And if you’re not here, then I hope you’re doing something worthy of this occasion. It’s the new year. Only a few hours really since the last year, but there are still so many options ahead of us. Never is that more clear than in the new year. Personally, I’m hoping to increase Evil by 300% worldwide. We haven’t had numbers like that in some time, but I think it’s okay to be a little optimistic.

I apologize if I sound a little groggy. You see, I’ve really had to cut down on the drugs I’ve been taking. When Melantha and I last spoke on the  broadcast some time ago, she was right. I was messed up. I was in trouble. I was hurting, and I was coping in the wrong sorts of ways. That DarkMegaCaine was really potent stuff, and it would knock you out and steal your organs if you let it. I’ve had to cut it out of my regime entirely. That leaves me with a little bit of black cocaine, which is colored by the activated charcoal, which makes it healthier; a little bit of Asian Super Poppy Distillate for pain; a little bit of MmmmmDMA, which gets me in touch with my feelings; our brand new Pseriously Psilocybin, “seriously” spelled with a P; MegaEther; DarkMegaJuana on occasion; eating tobacco to steady my nerves before difficult decisions; a bottle of the spiciest hot sauce I know of, made from Argentinian Demon Peppers, for when I need to come back to Earth; a little bit of Valhalium to kill the trip if I go to far, or if I just want to chill victoriously; gray coffee, which is even more potent than black coffee; Super Speed, for when I’ve got tough deadlines or not enough waking nightmares; just regular LSD; and the company of beautiful men and women when I’m lonely. Man, I’ve really cut back.

Today’s broadcast is coming to you from an Audio Demonica Casseiver, made with the help of our Division of Budgets and Mergers. We get it. Having a high quality tape deck and a high quality radio and a high quality receiver is expensive. Now you can have all three in one device. I am told that this transmission is coming through a special channel on the radio, but there is also a tape in the tape deck. The documentation here says to be very careful with this tape as it may cause you very pserious obsessions. Serious with a p. It never plays the same way twice, and the tape deck will also allow you to play it forward and backwards to hunt for more elusive clues. These tapes originally had a different purpose, but we accidentally left them in the tape decks before shipping them out. Oh well. We’ll just cancel that project. It was probably dumb anyway. And let me take this time to warn you, all who are listening: if you are not a Kakos Industries shareholder, then you should stop listening immediately. You see, our shareholders have been accustomed over time to ignore these sorts of tempting and dangerous objects. They hear, oh there’s a tape that could drive me insane, and instead of thinking, “how bad can it be?”, they know exactly how bad it can be and they leave it the fuck alone. But if you don’t know, and you aren’t a shareholder, and you have no idea how to control these impulses, then I’m afraid we’ve lost you already. The only thing left to do is for you to give in. Soon, you’ll forget the name Kakos Industries, and also the rest of the language you know, as you begin to attempt to speak the garbled mess on that tape. It will be your language, your culture, your people, and your time and place, and the rest of this… well, it won’t matter anymore.

I hope that you had an outstanding Yule, shareholders. I saw many of you at our celebration where I was dressed up as the Krampus monster. I know how much you love this stuff, shareholders, and I love it myself. The Yule festivities are at a peak, I show up in costume, and just so many of you are thirsty for the kind of punishment only I can give you. Some of you bend over my knee as I wail on you with my bundle of thorny branches, small trickles of blood running down your quivering thighs. Others of you run gleefully away from me as I attempt to catch you and put you in my sack for only the naughtiest shareholders. You cannot escape me. And you are all so naughty. I’m awfully spry, despite my age, and I have the strength of many, many drugs. By the end of the night, I’ve either caught all of you, or some of you have purposefully entered the sack. This year, when I opened the sack to look inside, You were all returned to your most innocent state: completely naked and shameless. Just like every year, I removed my costume and joined you. We survived the darkest night huddled inside that enormous bag. It was beautiful. We only lost one of you, and I think we can all agree that there is no better way to go.

The New Year’s party hasn’t been any less exciting, I must say. While the end of the year is arbitrary and could be put on any date on the calendar, this is the time we’ve decided, for one reason or another, to celebrate. Of course, in the olden times, this was the last day of the year before the rest of winter began and survival mode kicked in. There was no need to keep time again until March, when we would have taken stock of who was left and tried to forget the horrors of how we survived. Now we have access to more energy than we know what to do with. We stay warm. We keep time. But the year still ends and a new one begins. It’s kind of poignant. I’ve already explained that I’ve got plans to make this year even more Evil. We’ll be giving birth to one project I’m particularly excited about. But for now, I’m particularly excited just to see all of you enjoying yourselves, and Evil, so much.

Coming up, we have the Automobile Celebration. I remember a time long ago when this celebration actually had something to do with racing cars. Nowadays, it’s mostly a chance to look at some cool modifications you shareholders and our partners have made, and then we check to see how many average sized people can fit in the back and have sex comfortably. Just a reminder, shareholders. If you volunteer, and you are not average sized, you will throw off our data. So we’ll have to make you average sized. This may include bone grafts, bone shortening, haircuts, liposuction, or force feeding. Be warned.

We’ve also got the Festival of Darkness coming up. This is a special time for us, Shareholders. We will bring you into the basement ballroom using only echolocation in the pitch blackness. We will lay you down in your cot. And then you will stay there until we bring you back out again. What may or may not pass through that room while you lie there is none of your concern. What we have covering the walls is none of your concern. Who or what is lying in the cots on any side of you is none of your concern. The only thing that is your concern is what is happening inside of you when external stimulus is removed. Truly frightening. This year we can almost guarantee you won’t be eaten by anything while you’re down there. And if you are eaten, you won’t be around any longer to tell anyone what happened.

Shareholders, we have had a lot of exciting developments in Evil from our divisions here at Kakos Industries. The Division of Doing It, taking over for the Division of Getting Down, has come up with a hair tonic for the pubic region, making sure you’ve got a healthy bush, if that’s what you’re into. So far, I think they may have overshot the mark. Some of the test subjects I’ve seen have not only had thicker bushes, but thick, coarse hair now grows long and curly out of every follicle. I’m sure the scientists will figure out a way to dial that back. Otherwise, we’ll chain up the expendable ones  and submerge them in the methane lake on the Titan lawn. They’ll actually freeze to death before they drown. Just a fun fact for you there.

We’ve also made great strides with our cloning technology. We’ve been able to add and modify genes for a while now, but our Division of Duplication is getting really close to a way to transfer consciousnesses into clones also. Exciting stuff. I personally am not sure I see the value yet, but they keep trying to explain it to me. I’m pretty sure this is just an attempt from some of these scientists to finally be able to go fuck themselves when I tell them to.

I still haven’t heard anything from Vlad or any of his associates. It seems that the ongoing breakup of his perfect union is taking its toll. I haven’t heard anything from Melantha in a while either. Sly Sexplosion had to come off of the DarkMegaCaine eventually, as well. We finally caught up a little bit ago. I found out that he had saved up something like a kilo of the stuff. But it was only a matter of time. He told me he tried to wean himself down, but his willpower, like mine, just wasn’t strong enough. Perhaps it is better that we never find that recipe.

Shareholders, I have no updates on that strange woman on the 32nd floor. We learned last time that her name was Carla and she works in The Division of Life Tips, but we have no more information on the most important question of all: Does she want to fuck me, or does she just have weird eyes? I’m still leaning slightly toward weird eyes. I mean, I catch her looking at me, and I just want to know, is she trying to get me to notice, or does she just have weird eyes. I’ve been trying to catch her looking at other stuff to see how she looks at that stuff, but it seems like you have to be directly in front of her gaze, the object of her gaze, to see what I’m talking about. That is, if she has weird eyes. If this isn’t just a trick of angles, then she doesn’t look at anything the way she looks at me. That probably means she wants to fuck me. I mean, everyone wants to fuck me, but some more than others. I’m probably just going to have to ask her, but I feel so strange about it. I don’t want to make her self conscious about her weird eyes if she doesn’t want to fuck me. This is quite the pickle.

Sly showed me some of these Japanese cartoons he’s been watching, and some of them are quite interesting. People screaming really loud and powering up. Getting stronger. Throwing balls of energy at one another. It got me thinking, why can’t we power up? Why can’t I scream really loud and power up? I mean, when I used to take a lot of scream, I would really power up, but that stuff’s dangerous. No, we want people to be able to tap into their remaining energy stores and do amazing stuff. I’ve started the Division of Powering Up to try to tackle this problem.

Our plan to make masculinity and violence central to media has been working really well, and boy is it toxic. Have you seen movies lately? Guns and drugs and violence. It is glorious. Although I am noticing some strange side effects. A few months ago, I was out shooting guns and doing drugs with a close friend of mine when he really started getting into it. Fully automatic, screaming, waving the damn thing around. He didn’t hit any of the targets, but he did shoot me. Right in my thigh, the fucker. It bled like a son of a bitch, but they got me patched up pretty quickly. It still hurts like hell if I put pressure on it, you know, if I can feel pain at that particular moment. Boy do I hate being shot by my friends. Of course, I had to shoot him back to get even. And then I had to buy him a new liver. I told him his would grow back, but he wasn’t having it. He wanted a brand new one. We gave him a robot liver, but the downside is that the drugs don’t work on him anymore. The liver is too powerful.

The nuclear meltdown that took out basement 37-C has made it too irradiated to send people down, but we’ve sent some remote control cars with video cameras on top. It’s been frightening shareholders. There are all manners of monsters forming down there. Humanoid figures. And they’re working on something. The trouble is, we can’t hit them with a nuclear bomb to wipe them out like we normally do. They seem to be thriving down there despite all of the radiation.

The Division of Electronic Experiences has reported that one of their employees was recently sucked into a video game that they were making. The game is called Train, and you apparently get to play with trains made out of tiny dots of light. I don’t personally see the point, but they tell me it’s loads of fun for certain people, like Finias Willis, the man they tell me has been sucked in. I finally went down there to check on what was happening. To be clear, Finias is there. In the chair where his consciousness was supposedly sucked from him. But he is quite dead. Electrocuted by my estimation. All the same, they tell me that the trains move on their own, and occasionally do things they didn’t program. They want to leave his body there, but it’s starting to decompose. I’ve asked them to at least put it in their refrigerator until his consciousness can be retrieved. I asked them if it was even possible for his consciousness to fit in the game. They tell me that 48 Kilobytes holds quite a lot, and that he is surely in there in one piece.

(Door opens)

Junior: Father, are you almost done with the announcements?

Corin: Oh, hey there, Junior. Where’s Grace?

Junior: She had to go check on something.

Corin: She’s supposed to be watching you. You know you’re not supposed to be in here.

Junior: There was a pop boom outside that scared me.

Corin: Well, of course there was, buddy. There’s fireworks outside. People are celebrating. It’s the new year.

Junior: It’s been hours.

Corin: Well, not all parts of Kakos Industries celebrate at the same time. It’s a little complicated. I’ll explain it when you’re older.

Junior: There’s time dilation due to bending space, and other parts are just in different time zones. I understand okay. But the pop booms are scary-scaries.

Corin: Well, you might just have to wait it out for right now. There’s not a whole lot we can do to stop the sounds. And you don’t want to get in the way of other people’s Evil.

Junior: Can I have picky-ups?

Corin: Well, buddy, I don’t think so. You’re a little too heavy to sit on my lap now. I’m not Grace, you know.

Junior: I’m scared. I promise to be real quiet.

Corin: Well, how about you come sit by my feet here. There’s a nice, warm rug. You can even bring that little stuffed abomination we got you for yule. You know we’re working on something like that for real, right?

Junior: I know. I’ve been helping the science-ists with their math. Are you talking to the sharepeople?

Corin: I am.

Junior: Do I get to be CBO some day?

Corin: Oh, CEO? I don’t know about that.

Junior: You know I’m smart enough.

Corin: Well, yes, we saw to that. It’s just not that simple.

Junior: I think I’d make a great CVO.

Corin: We’ll see, buddy. We’ll see. Just… rest.

(snoring)

He’s asleep. He’s… so hard to understand. We’ll have to get him some braces. Or maybe get some of those teeth out of there. He’s got so many teeth.

Am Tubee Izz has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Because of that, we’re going to seriously fuck up Am Tubee Izz’s nemesis’s life. Am chose Sir Iain of house Crow, second son of Jacob, heir to the Silver Throne as that nemesis. We tied one end of the wheel of misery to a string and the other end to an attack helicopter and had the helicopter fly away. The string snapped, and the wheel spun. When it finally slowed down after that sweet fucking rush, it landed on the space for Tangential. From this day forward, Sir Iain will be 70% more tangential. Good luck keeping Sir Iain on topic. It’s all tangents from here. For good measure, Am Tubee Izz will be 18% less tangential, leaving Am with nothing to say at times. Congratulations on the win, and best of luck to all.

This brings us to the end of today’s broadcast. I’ve got to put Junior back in his bed. If I can lift him. He’s gotten quite large, shareholders. We’re uncertain how large he will be when he’s done growing, if he does ever finish growing. The numbers are next.

11

22

89

90

91

2

44

56

4

33

56

77

90

12

88

69

69

4

Kakos Industries is written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth, and the composer of the music. The introduction is read by Kim Aiello, and the credits are read by Kelsey Kemmer, the third most traded trading card. 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. 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), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. We’ve recently expanded our social media team, so please visit the website to view their credits and current projects.

Special thanks to our esteemed shareholders Iain Croall, Dan Shumway, William Brandon, and Jack Attack. Also thanks to honored employee Dorkpool Dorkuss, who finally shook that bag of chips free in the vending machine, and  Chris Leclerc, who plugged the refrigeration unit back in after the cleaning crew had inadvertently knocked it loose. 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, Valerie Koop, Director of the Division of Inappropriate Games to Play in Public, Patrick Green, head of The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology, Lynne Herman, director of the Division of Increasingly Improbable Slash Fiction, Carl H, Director of the Division of Unanswered Messages, Xavier Jarman, Director of The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying, Craig Czyz, director of the Division of Obscure Vintage Technology, And Lady Squidney, Director of the Division of Cephalopod Psychology. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has knitted everyone in the building  some slippers made out of the Ultra Yarn in Dayglo Yellow. Now that we think of it, this is why we took it away the first time. Once you start knitting it, you can’t stop.  The Division of Inappropriate Games to Play in Public has introduced stealth spanking. You definitely don’t want to play with anyone who doesn’t know they’re playing, and it’s probably best if no one else sees what’s happening. The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology has successfully soothed the angry water, turning it into regular water, leaving no trace of the find. Now they’ve moved on to taking samples from various puddles from around Kakos Industries. The Division of Increasingly Improbable Slash Fiction has started shipping duct tape and surfaces that you will want clean again some day. It’s going to take a lot of solvents probably. The Division of Unanswered Messages has been staring blankly at a coworker for two days after he made what was objectively an okay joke. All he wanted was a pity laugh. The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying has found a few sounds in all of their hunting for magical words that seem to have some power over people. We told them those words are slurs, but they’re not listening. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has taken the old deathly typewriter out of storage. It was once used to type death sentences, and exactly how the person would be put to death. We’re not looking forward to seeing why they got it out of storage. The Division of Cephalopod Psychology has continued to ask the exectopuses how they feel. They’re softening up, but so far, all they’re telling us is that they feel down sometimes. They say life is tough. 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 heavy sometimes. Try swapping songs on the porch to keep the darkness at bay.