What you are about to hear is dynastic.

Hello and welcome to the Kakos Industries Corporate Shareholder Announcements. My name is Corin Deeth III, and I am CEO. Welcome to the announcements, shareholders.

(A loud banging sound)

Corin: Ordinarily, I’d wait until deeper in the announcements to introduce a guest, but, under the circumstances, I feel like maybe I should introduce Dirk Cornelius Sexplosion of Giant-Ass Robots to Kick In Your Face right now.

(Bang)

Dirk: It’s good to be here, Corin.

Corin: So, Dirk. (A loud bang) What the fuck is going on?

Dirk: What do you mean, Corin?

Corin: Don’t fuck with me, Dirk. (Bang) You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Dirk: Could you be a little more specific, Corin?

(Bang)

Corin: Dirk, there’s a fucking Giant-Ass Robot humping the shit out of our building right now.

(Bang)

Dirk: Are you sure, Corin?

(Bang)

Corin: Look out that window right fucking there and tell me you don’t see part of a Giant-Ass Robot.

Dirk: It could be a robot, certainly.

Corin: I can see your logo from right here. It’s on the inner thigh, like with all of your robots.

Dirk: Alright! Alright! It’s a Giant-Ass Robot humping the shit out of your building. He’s a prototype RumbleBot 8500.

(Bang)

Corin: So… that does beg the question: WHY IS THERE A ROBOT HUMPING OUR BUILDING?

Dirk: Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what the building looks like, Corin. It’s easy to see why a giant robot with a preprogrammed need for sexual intimacy might want to get with it.

Corin: Why did you make a giant robot with a need for sexual intimacy!

(Bang)

Dirk: Do I ask you why you do the things you do, Corin? Do I tell you how to do your job?

Corin: We help our clients to Do Evil Better. Telling people how to do their jobs is literally our job description.

Dirk: Well then what if you told us to do this, Corin? What if it was someone at your company that told us to do this? To Do Evil Better?

Corin: Then I’m going to send that person out there to do battle with the robot dick and balls that are rubbing up against our building right now. But I don’t think there is anyone here who would do something like that. They know the consequences.

(bang)

Dirk: Oh fine! You’re right, Corin. There wasn’t anyone at your company that suggested this. Is that what you want to hear? You want to hear that it was all my idea and that I implemented it at the last second without asking anyone or double checking my code for mistakes? Fine. That’s what happened. I just wanted him to know love, Corin. I couldn’t imagine him never knowing love.

Corin: So what are you going to do about it, Dirk? This is a strong building, but I doubt it was engineered with robot humping in mind.

Dirk: Well, we’ve got some guys out there in Giant-Ass Robots with Giant-Ass Cattle Prods and they’re trying to… make it shoo.

Corin: Shoo?

Dirk: Shoo. (A pause). Look, Corin. It’s stopped. The cattle prods worked.

(Another pause)

Corin: Okay, Dirk. I’ve got some other announcements to get through. We’ll… we’ll come back to you.

Shareholders, the device we had you hooked up to that allowed us to make you feel things has been successfully removed. No one ever pressed the sexual thrill button. Nor did they press the sudden pain button. Nor did they press the funny dancing button. If you did or felt any of those things, it’s totally on you. However, when we were moving the console off of my desk, we did accidentally press the One Whole Day of Dragging Ass button. So if you had a whole day where you just felt like you were dragging ass, then that was on us. Probably. Again, much of the project was bad science because we didn’t really get much information about your day to day lives before we told you about these wonderful threats. You might just drag ass every single day as it is. All the same, we did have a good time having this power over you, even if we were never going to use it, except by accident. In other news, we have Grace back. It’s like the whole building has come back to life again. I’ve seen a slight smile in the corner of the mouth of every employee’s resting dour expression. As we all know, it takes much more energy to frown than smile, but at the same time, having no facial expression because you’ve totally accepted the never ending horror that is life takes the least energy of all. And if you’re lucky, your face will one day begin to droop into a striking frown all by itself.

Today’s broadcast is reaching you from far away. Like, it’s a big long arm that is just reaching out to you with a radio on the end of it. Just reaching. It’s wearing what appears to be a nice suit sleeve. Good cuff links. The speaker is totally nondescript, and it is embedded in the palm of the hand. Please refrain from the urge to tickle this hand. It may close up, and, if prodded too much, it may remove itself from your car window, or your chimney, or your shower drain, or wherever it has emerged from to make its way to you. Do not put anything obscene in the hand. Or anything else. Just admire its incredible build quality and listen to the fucking announcements. This arm belongs to a collaboration between Dick’s Prosthetics and our Division of Making Things Scary. Have you ever thought to yourselves, “I wish I had a prosthetic, but one that could really drive fear into the hearts of those that see it?” or “I wish I had a prosthetic, but one that could reach around a corner, quickly tap someone on the shoulder, and escape unnoticed?” or “I wish I had a prosthetic that could choke the life out of anyone in the same room or vehicle with it without much effort or commotion?” Well, these are the considerations that went into making the Freaky Arm, which is currently sharing space with you. If you are not a shareholder, you will shortly be taken into this hand’s grasp for the life-choking that I just mentioned. Also, if you have a handlebar mustache, you will have to arm wrestle the arm before it leaves. If you lose, there will be some life-choking. You got a pass with the bite wolves, but not this time.

Did you enjoy your Evil Con this year, shareholders? I was so happy to see all of your Evil faces. I was even happier to see what you were willing to do to get a taste of the new Evil coming soon, and to see your favorite Evil celebrities from Kakos Industries. In the past you’ve had to wait in long lines for days of your life to make it worth our while to talk to you and several thousand others for a few moments. We changed things up this year. In addition to removing much of the signage, as I inadvertently told you last time, we also created pre-lines, which you had to stand in to get a ticket. That ticket entitled you to a drawing. That drawing gave you a 50% chance of getting a wristband. A wristband allowed you to stand in the line without being thrown out of the building. When you reached the front of the line, you were then instructed to do any number of embarrassing and degrading things to go inside of the panel, or to purchases those desirable exclusives. Of course, after waiting in line since the day before and sleeping only a handful of hours in public to get what you wanted, how much worse was it to eat a spoonful of probably monster spunk, or to be videotaped pretending to be a baby in a diaper, or to getting an impromptu proctological exam from someone definitely not qualified to give such an exam, with what appeared to be chicken grease on their bare fingers. We maintain that these requirements are not our fault. Afterall, we wouldn’t be able to do any of them without you valuing what we have to offer so far above your dignity. After that, it’s just a question of degree. And those of you who say “standing ON line” as a quaint regionalism also had to jump through a hoop of fire before being allowed to enter any of the buildings. The costume contest was a huge success. I was thoroughly impressed by the two women dressed as Midinogria, Queen of the GMO Bitewolves, with her hilarity and horror masks. I also have a soft spot for anyone dressed as Double Duke Evil, the character made popular by our films in the 1960’s and 70’s, and soon to be reimagined as a cinematic Universe, like everything else. The winner of the costume contest was Frank Q., who wore a Helot costume. He was dressed like one of our citizens of the Hell labor camp, which is to say he was naked. The judges found the costume to be “creative, thoughtful, and oh sweet baby back ribs that is the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen. Here’s my phone, take a picture of me and that savory, savory dick.” In other news, I saw Hailey at the convention in what I had assumed was a similar costume. When I approached her, she said, “Costume? I just didn’t wear clothes today.” She went further to say that it made “sex really easy.” She was also standing next to a pile of spent nerds. They looked happy, but many of them did not make it.

Are you prepared for another CEO festival, shareholders? Based on the events last year, we’ve made some slight changes. You will be able to celebrate me as you usually would. And I will celebrate each of you as well in my own way. But if you want to take part in the roast, you’re going to have to bring me an expensive gift. That way I have something pretty to hold while I sit and listen to all of your annoying little complaints. I am told that work on the new statue of me is underway as well. I also have some plans that I will not be revealing until each of you arrive. At this celebration, what I say goes. And what I say usually comes back to bite me in the ass.

I have news from our Division of Dog Whistle Politics. They have been working with the Angry and We Mean It Party, also known as the AWMIP, who have worked their way into our politics everywhere. They have prepared a statement. “In these uncertain times, it’s important to keep our families safe. Our husbands, our sons, our wives, and our daughters. Remember a time when things were effortless, when things were simpler. A time when our children got a good education. A time when we took care of those closest to us. A time when we could make it in this world on nothing but moxy. Before it was so hard for a real patriot to get a job. Before everything was political. We could return to a time like that. A timeless time. A time where our citizens are entitled to the benefits of a free society. Vote Angry. Vote AWMIP.” Oh, shareholders, I almost didn’t make it to the end of that. That… that was vile.

I have news from our Division of Incredibly Boring Things. The Division has successfully reformed after the war with Kiarawa. All of the members that holed up in Junior’s Lair with us survived, and there was one employee who was fired out of a cannon into the unfriendly lake that also survived. His comrades were both skewered on rusted building materials submerged in the water and eaten by sea monsters. When we finally found him washed up on the bank of the lake and asked him what happened, he merely shrugged his shoulders with a blank expression. I am afraid that the occurrences in the water were far too interesting for his sensibilities. Now that the Division of Incredibly Boring Things has been restored, I understand that they are hard at work making Hardcore Bore-nography. I have a selection here titled Minute Differences in the Soil in My Neighbor’s Back Yard. “The first particle of dirt was vaguely brownish, but not a particularly striking brown…”

(The Noise Level Spikes)

Technician: Sir? (pause) Er… sir, where are you?

Manager: I’m right here.

Technician: Where?

Manager: Here. In the broom closet.

Technician: Uh, why’re you in the broom closet?

Manager: Hiding from my shadow, now what is it?

Technician: Well, sir… it’s Denny.

Manager: Again? Damn it, what’s the dilemma this time?

Technician: It’s not a ‘dilemma’ exactly… if just you come on out of the broom closet I can show you.

Manager: I can’t.

Technician: You, uh… you can’t come out?

Manager: No. But guide me through the details of the problem.

Technician: I’ll do my best sir. As I said, it’s not a ‘problem’ or ‘dilemma’, more of a, uh… ‘curiosity’ I’d say. Here, listen to this…

(Technician OPENS hatch. Hear ELEVATOR MUSIC come out of the control panel.)

Manager: Um…

Technician: Do you hear it?

Manager: (pause) Interesting… you know what, it’s almost kind of catchy.

(Technician CLOSES hatch. MUSIC stops.)

Manager: How long has Denny been like that?

Technician: For the last couple of hours, sir. What should we do?

Manager: I’ll write up a report for Deeth, I think he’ll find the situation… intriguing. Do you mind sending it for me?

Technician: Me, sir?

Manager: Well, I’m still in the broom closet.

Technician: Of course, sir. Do you think, er… Deeth’ll give us community service… again?

Manager: Doubtful, but if he does it won’t be as egregious as last time.

Technician: I still have… (gulp), nightmares about those living vermicelli noodles-

Manager: Only a few casualties from that last incident, nothing to dwell on. In the meantime, keep an eye out for my shadow… it’s lurking around here somewhere…

Technician: Ooh! I see it! I see it!

Manager: Ah grab the net! Get it! Get it!

Technician: I got him! I’m gonna get you you little bastard! Hold still! I’m gonna get you!

Manager: Go get him, son! Goddamn shadow. Always running out on me.

(The noise level spikes again.)

(Robot humping throughout).

Corin: So, Dirk, it looks like the robot is back.

Dirk: He wandered off for a bit, got freaky with a nearby well, and well now he’s back, Corin. He won’t be so easily satisfied.

Corin: What are you going to do to fix this, Dirk? Cattle prods didn’t work.

Dirk: We’ve got helicopters inbound, Corin. They’re going to take it down.

Corin: And plan B?

Dirk: We’re bringing a giant robot for it to have sex with. It will hopefully be more alluring than the shape of your building.

Corin: How long is that going to take?

Dirk: We’re getting close. We’re just not sure we’ll get the robot here in time before…

Corin: Before what.

Dirk: Well, the robot might reach completion, Corin.

Corin: (muffled: Oh motherfucker). Just what kind of damage are we looking at here, Dirk?

Dirk: Damage is a strong word.

Corin: What are we looking at, Dirk?

Dirk: It could be up to 10,000 gallons of robojizz.

Corin: 10,000 gallons!

Dirk: It’s really thick, Corin. It won’t cover nearly as much as you think. A lot of it won’t even hit the building. We should think about closing those windows, though.

Corin: Dirk, this is the worst thing you’ve ever done to us, and you made us do karaoke once.

Dirk: It’ll be okay, Corin! Maybe he just needs to work through some stuff.

Corin: Dirk, are you familiar with the term “projection”?

Dirk: I have a home theater, Corin. I’m obviously a rich person.

Corin: Never mind. How much time do we have.

Dirk: It looks like the helicopters have arrived, Corin. But the trembling in the robot’s right thigh… that doesn’t look good.

Corin: I hate everything about this.

Dirk: Sex washes off, Corin! You always say that!

Corin: Sex, yes. Robojizz? I don’t know.

Dirk: The trembling’s getting worse, Corin.

Corin: No.

Dirk: I think it’s happening, Corin.

Corin: No.

Dirk: This is definitely it, Corin.

Corin: NO.

(robojizz sound)

Dirk: Oh! Oh! There is goes. Wow. It fired twenty feet into the air, look at it come down raining. Oh! It’s hitting the windows! Pitter patter! Oh. Look at it roll down. Ooh, glossy and wet. Oh wow, Corin.

Corin: Dirk, I’m not going to look. And I want you to know that we’re not friends right now.

Dirk: We’re going to clean it up. We’ve got a Giant-Ass Gym Sock on its way, Corin. You’ll never know anything happened.

Corin: You need to leave.

Dirk: I’ll make this up to you, Corin!

Corin: I have numbers to read. Goodbye.

This brings us to the end of this broadcast, shareholders. To send away your Freaky Arm, you’re going to need to give it your best dap. Your best handshake. Prove to it that you know where it’s coming from and it will go away. Or give it a solid fist bump if you’re not comfortable. The numbers are next.

My list of numbers just says twenty-jizz. That’s not a number. It is, however, highly insensitive.

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 blinking twice. Special Guest appearance in this episode by Anwar Newton. You can hear more from him on Twitter @TheAnwarNewton. That’s Anwar A-N-W-A-R. The Division of Philosophical Sabotage segment was written by Sean Hennessy, performed by Sean and Mike Hennessy, and recorded, edited and mixed by Mike Hennessy. You can hear more from them in their production The Meat Blockade over at themeatblockade.com. 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, Elizabeth Kreick, and Grace Pegafin. 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 how weird skorts are?