95 – Thwicc
in which you feel a certain Thwiccness, we witness dramatic acrobatic feats, preparations are hinted at for the Darkest Universe, you feel affirmed, and A Sad Maiden “wins” the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. Do Evil Better.
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Intro: What you are about to hear is utterly monstrous.
Hello, and welcome to the Kakos Industries corporate shareholder announcements. At Kakos Industries we give you, everyone like you, everyone not like you, everyone you can’t even imagine because they’re so different compared to you, and everyone else the tools to Do Evil Better. My name is Corin Deeth III, and, except in extremely rare cases of arcane jurisdiction, I am the CEO here at Kakos Industries. Things have been humming along smoothly since I last did these announcements. As you may recall, when the last broadcast ended, I had realized that our new book of proverbs had called for an immediate celebration due to astronomical and atmospheric conditions. And party we did. It’s always impressive to me just how ready most of you shareholders and many of our employees are to drop whatever it is that you are doing and begin partying hard immediately. When the announcement went out, one of our tamest, most serious employees, Gordon Friel ripped off all of his clothing and screamed “Let’s do this!” at the top of his lungs. Apparently he has a home situation that makes it difficult to get out to our celebrations, but when he’s already at work, he is more than game at any given moment. The party was free form, but we had enough booze and snacks ready to go to facilitate. It was a fun time. Fun. A chance to get out of our current headspaces. It was only a few hours into the celebration that I was informed that I am both not an astronomer, and more importantly, not a DarkMegastrologer, so my assessment of where Burgeron was or what Fuffeni even is were sadly mistaken. It is completely appropriate for me to call for festivities at any time, and for that reason I did nothing wrong, but it seems it was not the correct moment for that particular celebration. I asked how far off I was, and they are as of yet unable to tell me.
Today’s broadcast is coming to you from a toy raygun. More specifically, this toy raygun is the Zapplodicus Mark Nine Million, from Fun Fun Toys for Fun in partnership with our Division of Terrible Sounds. I am actually supposed to make a terrible sound in place of where I said “terrible sounds”, but I don’t want to, and I technically don’t have to. Anyway, this device has been constructed so that when played with, any adult or parental figure within a hundred feet will become incredibly irritated, increasing Evil. But instead of the sound synthesis hardware, we’ve put a radio inside, and instead of the long lazer blasting tip of the noisy toy, there is a big antenna for receiving this broadcast. Do not touch it, it will burn you. Just listen. And if you happen to not be a Kakos Industries shareholder and somehow you are hearing this broadcast, then the raygun is actually capable of firing very specialized rays that will begin to cook you from the inside out. Shareholders are immune to this. Mostly. Please be careful.
Shareholders, I feel as though I should tell you that we have a bit of a strange occurrence here at the facilities today. Thousands of members of the Church of Crumbs have descended on our building. At first I was quite alarmed. They are dressed mostly in khaki pants and polo shirts with the same brand of sneakers. They are obsessively groomed. They are cheerful, and they offer to help wherever they can. And then you get the speech about their dark lord crumbs, and how you should accept their darkness within you. We view them as a competitor, an odd competitor, but a competitor. They do great Evil around the world, but with this religious flavor. They convert and expand, and they tithe, and they expect service. And most annoyingly, they view us not as a competitor, but as an unwitting accomplice.
I received a note from my grandfather earlier that said “In Case of Crumbs” on it. Whoever is in charge of these notes must have known something about the contents of this letter, because the other day I was really struggling with a tuna fish sandwich on some stale bread, and let me say that may have been a case of crumbs also if one didn’t know any better. I’ll just go ahead and read the note now. “Corin, it’s important that you know about the Church of Crumbs. They’re a cult, Corin. They believe just outlandish stuff. There’s normal religion here, and then there’s these guys over here.” I’ll stop reading for a moment to describe the line my grandfather has drawn. On one side of the page is normal religion, and then he draws a line clear off the side of the piece of paper onto what I assume was at some point another piece of paper that was not included with the note. If I may make an assumption, the intent is to say that they’re bizzy bonkers. He continues, “They get these wild ideas about old religious stuff and these doctrines of their own, and it’s always a pain in our ass. They think we’re on board with what they do because we are also Evil. They think that Crumbs is just working through us. And once in a while, they will just show up at the building trying to protect us from something, or to pray en masse around the perimeter, or to try to get some of their members pregnant. The important thing is to ignore them. Don’t take anything. Don’t let them help you. Don’t eat anything they give you. Just ignore them. Eventually, whatever thing they think is about to come to pass will not come to pass and they will go home. It is far better to ignore, them, Corin. If you’re having trouble ignoring them, consider taking some downers. It’s way easier to drown out their chanting when you’re on the floor listening to the carpet. I can confirm because that’s where I am writing this to you, and the carpeting has some simply amazing stories to tell. Really, sport, you should give them a listen. Tell ‘em I sent you. Much love. Grandpa.” Perhaps my grandfather’s relationship with carpeting is why they always consult me before replacing any of it. Oh well. So right now, I’ve given all of my employees and anyone not associated with the church in the building the order to ignore them, but it is seriously difficult. They are all over the place. And not only that, but they are used to this treatment. They know how to keep talking when you’re not listening. And they know how to rope you into a conversation when it’s the last thing you wanted.
Grogory: Why, hello there, Evil one. You’re a tough one to get ahold of, you know that? I had to have several of my believers chew through your wiring so I could interrupt you.
Corin: Who is this? I’m in the middle of something incredibly important right now.
Grogory: It is I, Archbishop Grogory of The Western Chapel of The High Church of Our Dark Lord Crumbs. You may be seated.
Corin: I didn’t get up.
Grogory: What a pleasure it is to be talking to you, Mr. Deeth. May I call you Corin?
Corin: I would prefer if you didn’t call me.
Grogory: You are quite the shining star in our Dark Lord’s eye, Brother Corin. You are truly a most wonderful manifestation of Their finest work. Truly, Crumbs has few pawns that are more valuable than you.
Corin: I know what you’re saying, but I don’t serve your lord. I’m not interested in having this conversation right now.
Grogory: Of course you serve our Lord. Our Lord works through you and has a hand in every Evil you do. Or should I say Do Better? From the largest operations bringing millions to their knees or to their deaths, right down to when you please yourself, Their hand is working through you.
Corin: That’s gross. I don’t want to think about some spirit in a moment like that.
Grogory: Nonsense, Brother Corin! Their Dark Majesty would rather be no where else than in the very hand that tugs you off. That is Their will.
Corin: Let’s change the subject.
Grogory: Yes! Excellent. There are some things I was wishing to bring to your attention, Brother Corin, most favorite son of Their Darkness.
Corin: Fuck. Soundman, can we hang up? We can’t? Fuck.
Grogory: Just a few moments longer of your time, o devout disciple. Do you know what tonight is?
Corin: A night. A night of the week. A night where I should be getting some things done, but I am being resisted at every avenue.
Grogory: Brother Corin, it is one of the holiest nights of the Crumbcycle. Tonight, Brother Corin, is Thwicc.
Grogory: Yes, indeed, Their flower of utter darkness. Thwicc. The Feast for the Dark Beast Thwock.
Corin: Just what the hell does any of that have to do with us and why are you people all over the building?
Grogory: Thwicc is a rare night when Thwock, an ancient and most powerful servant of our Lord, can return to us. As you know, your building is a holy site constructed upon one of the most powerful of umbral vortices, and as such, it is the best location for the Thwiccening.
Corin: I was aware of none of that.
Grogory: And that is why it is so important that you join with us and aid us in our revelry. The first order of business, Brother Corin, is that your food court must be shut down. We will only know the beginning of Thwicc by the smell on the air and your food court is releasing too many alluring aromas. And also, our loyal acolytes have been fasting for two weeks now, and the sultry smells are testing their faith.
Corin: I can’t shut down the food court. It runs 24/7 so our employees can always continue working.
Grogory: This is most regrettable, Brother in Faith. Our believers have formed a human chain around the food court, allowing no one in. It is the only way. We must have it shut down.
Corin: I just got an email from one of the kiosk operators. They’re calling it a night because this Thwicc bullshit is driving them insane. Cool. The food court is getting shut down by a human chain. Gonna have to reconsider those vendor contracts
Grogory: Of course, Brother Corin, we would rather have your cooperation on these matters. If your employees are hungry, they may always purchase a delicious treat from our bake sale.
Corin: Attention all employees, do not eat anything from the bake sale. It will kill you. Now, Grogory, please take your people and get out of my building.
Grogory: I cannot, Faithful Brother. For it is Thwicc, and we must prepare for Thwock. Now, if you’re ready to hear it, I have another request.
Grogory: It is in regards to the large power generator you have outside of the building. It must be turned off so that we may hear the wind. It is critical in preparing for Thwock’s arrival.
Corin: That generator powers a lot of vital functions here at the building. We will not be turning it off.
Grogory: This is sad news, Brother Corin. But we will not press you further to help us at this time.
Corin: How fucking weird was that.
Since I last did these announcements, Junior has started working again. A few hours a week. They’re great hours, just limited. It suits his temperament much better. For those of you who are new, he took over a lot of my work when I was out of commission for a time, but found the new trust and responsibility to be a bit too much.
When we last checked in on Hell, Meredith Gorgoro had surgically replaced her left arm with an enormous monster arm. Herself. In the caverns of the Hell tunnels. With tools she made herself. Truly amazing stuff. It has really helped her to continue her monster killing rampage. It has also helped me to begin our new line of replacement monster arms. The trouble is, our scientists are having a hard time achieving the same results. Attaching the nerves is particularly difficult, and not all monster bodies have the same nerves that we do. It is strange to me that with all of the science we have at our disposal here in the Kakos Industries labs, we are not able to recreate her massive success. It seems that we may be missing something. Perhaps that thing is the rage that has filled Meredith since her labor camp was completely destroyed by still unknown monsters.
I paid a visit to The Division of Erotic Experiences to check on the progress of Jasmine Aashna and Dr. Dunkelwissen. When we last checked on them, they were discussing the merits of finger nails in sex. Perhaps this was inspired by Kimzzzzzzzzzz’s decree indicating that our fingernails were the beginning and end of our sexiness. I don’t think that line of reasoning got them very far. At least not in terms of answering the big question: What is Most Sex? When I visited this time, Jasmine hugged me. It was one of those deep hugs. The kind where you hold someone for a really long time. She let out more than a few big sighs and kind of rested her face on my chest. I recognize the value of an intense hug and of course I reciprocated. Then, Dr. Dunkelwissen did the exact same thing to me. When he was done, they both sat down again at their desks and started scribbling down notes. On the whiteboard in the corner, I could see that they had narrowed their search this time down to more sensuous and emotional realms. In the test rooms you can see through the one way windows in their office, a lot of confused subjects were alternately hugging one another and looking up at the windows for encouragement or instructions of any kind. When no instructions came, they hugged again, apparently hoping it might expedite their release. I don’t believe they were being recorded, nor did it seem that they were even being watched.
Speaking of Kimzzzzzzzzzzz and her decrees, it seems that the head of the Cult of Ohh Ahh has some new ideas about what is sexiest in this mortal world. There is no longer any need for fancy nails. Now sexiness is just how tight your clothing is. This seems pretty benign and generally doable, but people are getting hurt. I’ve seen reports of dozens of employees needing clothing surgically removed at the infirmary. Our budget for bribing Kimzzzzzzzzzz has run dry, so this will either need to work its way out or we’ll order her assassination. I’ve personally learned a lot about feeling sexy, and I have opted to wear my normal clothing, which, if I’m being honest, can sometimes be a little tight.
I have just received word that one of the Cult of Crumbs people, in attempting to disassemble our generator outside has instead gotten himself pulled into the gearworks and has, as a result, become a paste of former cult member. Apart from this particularly gruesome turn of events, it seems that he was successful in disabling the machinery for now. The generator does run some crucial parts of our building, but not the most crucial. It’s a little too vulnerable to attack for us to let it be that important. But we did have one experiment running on a living employee who has now died. We’ve also had to move a lot of food out of refrigerators that are no longer powered. Also, our mailroom has lost power to its computers, so they’ve all gone home for the night. Also, the night light in hallway 88-99-ab-3 has gone out, so be careful moving around over there. If you’re familiar with that hallway, you know how critical that nightlight is. That rug bunches up like no other.
We’re still keeping an eye on Dana Govern, recipient of just about all of the gene modifications we’ve ever worked on. We still have yet to catch her on camera doing anything out of the ordinary, though there was a segment of security camera footage where she was mysteriously missing despite having walked through the line of sight of the cameras just before it and just after it with no alternative routes in the middle. We will continue to observe.
It’s been a year since I lost my memories during this broadcast. Boy am I glad that hasn’t happened again. I guess I don’t really have too much more to say on the matter. I have also been able to avoid everyone named Tabitha recently. It’s possible it is because I didn’t meet a single new person or do much socializing. This is obviously an unsustainable strategy, but sometimes you need to just take a break.
The Celebration of Affirmation was different this year. I asked the Division of Dionysia if they could find ways for us to affirm one another without the use of words, but instead with our actions. Of course, one of the options they immediately discovered was some sort of sexual contact. There are few things more life affirming than someone special finding you special in just the right way and the physical activity that follows. But they also explored cuddling, hugs, handshakes, fist bumps, high fives, and even things not requiring contact like waves and bows. During the celebration, words were forbidden. It was enlightening. It was also, somehow, intensely Evil. It was so indulgent, and so forgiving. That feeling of guilt we carry with us for our inability to avoid doing terrible things temporarily subsided. We felt renewed and prepared to do more terrible things with our senses of self somewhat repaired.
The Big Black Hole is still kind of just a mound of dirt. We have all been secretly hoping that something strange would happen again, but so far nothing has.
Keen listeners might be wondering how the preparations for the Darkest Universe are going. Well, they’ve been temporarily put on hold due to this Thwicc business. It is possible that the Cult of Crumbs has predicted the coming of Thwock because of our usual Darkest Universe preparations around this time, but I can’t say for certain. Ordinarily, I would spend the whole broadcast telling you about what we’re doing, and how sure we are to make it the darkest one yet. Preparations are being made, but it seems my absence a few months ago and a few other details have given us all a sense that this year won’t be our year. It’s okay. Then again, maybe Thwock will actually appear and usher in an age of utter darkness. I just really doubt it. If you’re feeling like you really want to direct your Evilest thoughts at someone, I’m sure Archbishop Grogory won’t mind the attention.
Grogory: Brother C, we have disabled your generator.
Corin: I know. It mangled your follower. We have to take the whole thing apart now to clean the gore out of it before it will run again.
Grogory: His sacrifice is part of Their Dark Will.
Corin: And what about the life support system attached to it? I just lost an employee! Not one I liked, but still.
Grogory: This is a sadness, but I assure you, any loss of life in the name of Their Unimaginable Darkness will yield the finest rewards in the Void Palace. A bed made from sweet human caress. A swimming pool filled with satisfaction and fulfillment. A thousand homunculi prepared to satisfy your every itch and urge.
Corin: None of that is real.
Grogory: We all come to the faith in our own time, Dark Lover. Now there is the question of all of these lights at your building, within and without.
Corin: They have to stay on for safety.
Grogory: We must see the stars, Brother Corin. It is the only way to anticipate the arrival of Thwock.
Corin: They stay on. And good luck turning them off.
Grogory: I see. One day you will stop resisting the flow of Their Darkness through you, and then you will truly reach new heights of Evil.
There is no way they can turn those lights off. They’re not even on the same circuit. The wires are incredibly thick. They will not be dimmed. Soundman, did a person just climb in front of the window? I see a mint polo shirt and khaki slacks pressed up against it. You’ve got to be shitting me. They’re going to block the light with their bodies. Scaling the building. Oh– That guy just fell off the building! What is wrong with these maniacs! I’ve got a report here… it says they’re scaling the street lights and draping themselves over them. They’ve somehow blocked all of the light. This is madness. I’m sure they’ll have some more to say on the matter before the broadcast is out, but for now, let’s get back to the important stuff.
They say that Evil once put on the most beautiful regal gowns known to man, and inspired cultures everywhere to fall in love with monarchy with that single action. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. Today, we’re taking credit for spandex, latex, and the feeling that all of your responsibilities are suffocating you. If you happen to disagree with anything we’ve taken credit for today, then prepare to be suffocated. Probably by some tight clothing.
A Sad Maiden has won today’s Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of A Sad Maiden’s nemesis will be ruined. We spun the Wheel of Misery with a miserable amount of force, and it landed on the space for Lethargic. As a result, A Sad Maiden’s nemesis will become 93% more lethargic at all times. A Sad Maiden has selected Jessica Cravens for this dubious distinction. As of a few minutes ago, the Damnation and Ruination squad is seeing to it that this sentence is being carried out upon Jessica Cravens. Potentially through the use of really tight clothing restricting breathing, and as a result, energy. Speaking of which, the Damnation and Ruination Squad is wearing some pretty tight clothing themselves. Except that they were wearing it before Kimzzzzzzzzzz said anything at all. It has to do with some mistakes they’ve made in the past and how the Wheel of Misery chooses to punish them.
Corin: Covering the windows and lighting fixtures is insane, Grogory!
Grogory: Brother Corin, I’ve interrupted you once more because I wanted to share Thwicc with you. Can you feel it, beloved? The constellation of The Darkest One is high above us. Thwock is upon us.
Corin: I don’t feel anything, Grogory. I don’t smell, hear, or see anything either.
Grogory: (deep breath) Yes! Thwock is upon us!
Corin: Nothing is happening.
Grogory: Everything is happening! Yes! I feel it deep within me! I am experiencing The Fullness. Are you with me?
Corin: I am not. What are you talking about?
Grogory: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Thwock, the Destroyer, is here!
Corin: Did something happen?
Grogory: Check your reports, Corin. I think you’ll find something substantial is now destroyed.
Corin: Nope. Nothing important. Building systems are okay. Well, one of the old barns way out back fell over–
Grogory: There you have it. You are starting to see. Thwock has come and destroyed. We have been Thwocked. Now, Brother Corin, my flock and I will be having a celebratory orgy and snack on the grass in front of your building. You should join us. There is always room for one as dark as you. Their darkest blessing upon you, Flower of Midnight.
I was going to say that we have a lot of barns back there and one or two of them fall over every day. That guy did more damage crawling into the generator. It’s probably best I follow my grandfather’s instructions and just ignore them until they leave. Even if their orgy is directly outside of my window here. They… like… They fuck about how you would think they would, if that makes sense.
Anyway, this brings us to the end of our broadcast. You can destroy the raygun any way you see fit, including using it to annoy everyone around you. It’s super cheap and won’t last that long anyway. Hm… that’s strange. My desk didn’t have a wobble in it before, but now it does. It’s probably the new carpeting. Anyway, the numbers are next.
Credits: 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 Kitty McCauley, and the credits are read by Kelsey Kemmer, the person with the most books read this summer. Special guest appearance in this episode by Dan Manning. To hear more from me, find me online @manieldanning or check out my podcasts @thewhisperforge and @thexmasmistake. 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 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), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. Please visit our website for cast details and the credits for all of our social media contributors.
Special thanks to our esteemed shareholders Iain Croall, Dan Shumway, William Brandon, and Jack Attack. Also thanks to honored employee Dorkpool Dorkuss, who ordered extra popcorn for movie night because we always run out, and Chris Leclerc, who drew all of the eyebrows back onto the Division of Fumes after the accident. 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, Xavier Jarman, Director of The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying, and Craig Czyz, director of the Division of Obscure Vintage Technology. The Division of Beanies, Booties, and Construction Projects That Are Probably Too Large for Yarn has completed their ferris wheel, ending several lives, and has now begun working on a tiny army of knit golems to protect themselves. The Division of Inappropriate Games to Play in Public has started playing with squirt guns basically all the time. Even at the suede convention. Not a good look. The Division of Oceanic Micro-Cryptozoology has apparently made progress in hunting the unicorn actinopod. They have found definitive evidence of its existence. I’m told it has to do with microscopic oats and droppings. The Division of We Know Magic Doesn’t Exist But We’re Going to Keep on Trying has begun scrying for every little thing. The other day, they attempted to find a nice lunch place, but ended up in a landfill. The Division of Obscure Vintage Technology has dusted off the old steam powered torture rack. It adds insult to injury by occasionally spraying boiling water on both the victim and the operator. 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 to be okay with the inevitable heat death of the Universe and the subsequent erasure of all human achievement.