The Death Star dream suffered a setback

If you’re not subscribed to our newsletter, you’ve probably made a few other bad life choices too. That means you missed the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks, and also the best newsletter in the world. But because we are merciful, here’s a summary of how we were about to conquer the world, but instead just ended up even deeper in debt and now need to sell more insanely excellent noise cancelling headphones (and outrageously excellent speakers).

Because we are a company that believes in radical honesty, we will now openly tell you how we screwed up.

Step 1: The grand plan

For the entire existence of this company, we have promised that Valco’s profits would be used for three things. Beer, child support payments, and building the Death Star. Many of you thought it was a joke. We do not joke about things like this.

The K-Citymarket app shows that the money has gone exactly where we promised it would. For foreigners and S customers, just so you know, the K-Citymarket app gave us this lovely little year-end statistic showing what we bought over the course of the year:

Well, anyway. The Death Star has been in the plans for a while, and around New Year we found a Danish manufacturer that promised they could deliver us a real Death Star. According to the salesman, the device is “massive”, has a “superlaser”, and contains over 4000 functional parts.

Christmas sales and the VMK25.2 launch went so well that we started feeling like we would finally get the world-destroying weapon we had dreamed about for so long.

 We emptied the company cash box, sold the office coffee maker, and took out a wildly irresponsible bank loan. The plan was flawless. What bank manager would dare come collect when we have a fully operational, planet-destroying battle station? No one.

We had already prepared for a strategic shift. The plan was to stop this exhausting business of mailing headphones and groveling in customer service. The idea was to move to a new business model. One based on fear, punishment, and the absolute obedience of the people. We were already drafting a list dividing customers into nobility and peasants. One of the shareholders was already planning to start his own sex cult. 

Harsh reality

Then the long-awaited day arrived. The Death Star finally showed up and we were all outside to receive it. Raimo was wearing a cape and Jani had a champagne bottle ready to smash against the hull. 

The first warning sign was the size of the box. It was not planet-sized after all, but fit on a forklift pallet. We still tried to stay positive. Maybe this is top-tier Danish design. Maybe the package only contains the remote control and the actual Death Star is, naturally, already in orbit.

We opened the box. There was no hypermatter and no superlaser.

There was plastic. Thousands and thousands of tiny grey plastic pieces in bags. What kind of scam artist sells a Death Star and then the package only contains tiny little blocks?

We have been scammed.

That slick Danish salesman can no longer be reached, and a place called “Billund” probably doesn’t even exist. The whole name sounds made up. This world-destroying weapon that was supposed to wipe out our debts and help us conquer galaxies turned out to be some children’s toy. Is this what we’re supposed to use to subjugate humanity? This thing won’t kill anyone unless they choke on the pieces or leave them on the floor in a dark room and step on them.

HOW CAN THIS COST SO MUCH?! All our money went into it, both ours and borrowed, everything we managed to stash away over these seven years. A box full of some fucking plastic pieces costs as much as a real Death Star!? Now we also understand why Trump wanted Greenland for himself. He must have fallen for the same scam and ordered a Death Star too. We have always loved the Danes, and we still do, but that is exactly why this scam pisses us off so much.

Humbling ourselves and begging

So here’s the situation. We owe the bank about as much as the budget of a small country, and we do not have that kind of money. We thought we’d pay back the loan with laser cannons. Now it looks like our only source of income is once again you, our beloved customers.

So unfortunately we have to cancel our plans for world domination and dictatorship. It was just some playful marketing humor. You know us, always joking around. Heh heh. Obviously we would never oppress anyone like that.

Now this is serious. If we don’t turn the cash flow around immediately, the bank will take everything from us. So we humbly ask you to buy headphones. They are actually really good, unlike our judgment.

Enter the giveaway

We tried to file a complaint, but because Raimo had already torn the bags open in a rage and bitten one of the pieces, the return policy is gone.

Because this pile of plastic only reminds us of our own stupidity and our massive debt, we do not want to look at it for one more second.

That’s why we’re giving away this “Death Star” among all newsletter subscribers.

Yes, you read that right. One lucky person will get this monument to our gullibility delivered to their home. It is impressive and expensive. Building it will probably destroy your mental health, but that is still a better fate than ours.

Enter the giveaway and save us from bankruptcy by buying something while you’re at it.

Ps. The dream is still alive. This setback is only a minor delay. We’ll keep grinding day and night until everyone has Valcos on their ears, or has otherwise given us their money. And when that day comes, we will finally be able to afford the real superweapon.  

pps. this text was, in fact, a joke. We are actually doing fucking great. Don’t take the joke the wrong way.