Subscribe to our newsletter and win

...a pile of Danish plastic that cost us everything.

How do you take part?

  1. Subscribe to Valco’s newsletter by 15.11.2026 (and preferably after that, too).
  2. Wait for the draw, which will take place on 16.11.2026 (or the next day we’re sober).
  3. The winner will be notified by email – to the address used for the newsletter subscription.

That’s it. No university degree or physical prowess required – unlike assembling this toy set would demand.

How much is this prize worth?

For us, it cost seven years of savings, the company’s reputation, and our sanity, but the official value is exactly €999.95 (+ outrageously expensive shipping).

The mandatory disclaimer

Valco takes absolutely no responsibility if you’re disappointed by this device’s firepower (unlike those Danish swindlers). You can’t kill anyone with this – except maybe yourself out of sheer frustration if one of those thousands of pieces is missing or the whole thing collapses right before you finish.

We’re raffling off the Death Star – because we got swindled.

At Valco, we’ve always had a habit of dreaming big. While other headphone makers are busy pondering new color options or app updates, we’re plotting world domination. We wanted to be a galactic superpower, with our own base in orbit and enough firepower to silence the taxman and the most annoying complainers if needed.

We realized that if you want to conquer a planet, you need a Death Star.

We searched the web and found a Danish supplier in Billund. They promised to deliver “the greatest building set of all time,” with which galactic order would be restored. We spent all our money on it—every penny we’d saved and borrowed over the past seven years—but figured it was a small price to pay for becoming rulers of the universe.

Then the day came when the delivery truck backed into the yard. We waited outside with a bottle of bubbly, ready to christen our new warship. Out came one measly cardboard box.

WE’VE BEEN HAD!

The box didn’t contain hypermatter or a superlaser. It was full of thousands and thousands of tiny, gray plastic blocks in bags, and an instruction manual thicker than Raimo’s list of sins. That Billund swindler won’t answer the phone anymore. Now we’re stuck with the world’s most expensive toy, which only serves to remind us of our own stupidity.

We can’t bear to look at this pile of plastic for another second. That’s why we saw only one option: raffle it off to one of you.

Are you ready to receive a heap of plastic?

We’re raffling off this Danish plastic disaster worthy of a Death Star among all our newsletter subscribers.

If you’re already a subscriber, you’re automatically in on this humiliation. If not, sign up for the newsletter now, so we can keep you updated on how we’ve blown the company’s money on something idiotic yet again.

Raffle rules

1. Organizer

The draw is organized by Valco Oy (hereafter "the organizer").

2. Participation period

You can enter the draw by subscribing to Valco’s newsletter by 15 November 2026.

3. Participation

You enter the draw by subscribing to Valco’s newsletter during the entry period. That’s it—no need to fill out forms or answer any other tricky questions.

The draw is open to all adults (18+) living in the European Union. Each participant can enter the draw only once and can win only one prize. Employees of Valco Oy and their family members are not allowed to win prizes—even if they have really convincing excuses.

4. Prize

Everyone who subscribes to the newsletter by 15 November 2026 will be entered into a draw for the LEGO Star Wars™ 75419 – Death Star (value: €999.95). The prize includes delivery costs.

The prize cannot be exchanged for cash or swapped for another product, so if you win, you’re getting the Death Star—whether you like it or not. The organiser of the competition will take care of any possible lottery taxes and the delivery of the prize.

5. The draw, notification of the win, and claiming the prize

The draw will take place on 16 November 2026, and the winner will be notified personally by email at the address used to subscribe to the newsletter. The winner must confirm receipt of the prize and provide the necessary information to the organiser so the organiser can send the prize (and so we can make sure you actually exist). If the winner doesn’t respond within a reasonable time (7 days), the organiser has the right to draw a new winner.

6. Personal data

Participants’ personal data is used solely for carrying out the draw and notifying about the prize. The information is handled by Valco’s subcontractor on their encrypted servers located in the EU or the United States (in other words, in the cloud). After the prize draw, all delivery and contact details of the winner are deleted, and the information won’t be used for anything else without the participant’s separate consent.

You can read more about our privacy practices on Valco’s privacy page.

7. Responsibilities

The winner releases Valco Oy from all responsibility that may arise, not arise, or is claimed to have arisen from participating in the draw, claiming the prize, or using it. In other words: even though this isn’t a real Death Star but just a pile of Danish plastic, the old rule still applies – if you choke on the pieces, get robbed, or the box actually contains real lasers that burn down your house, that’s not on us.

The organizer does not guarantee, among other things, the following:

  • That you’ll ever manage to build anything even remotely resembling a Death Star from this. It might just end up as a vague gray lump, which mostly reminds us of our own failed business plan.
  • That all the parts are actually in the box. Sure, the box is genuinely unopened, but if the Danes are lying to us about the Death Star being real, there’s probably a few pieces missing too.
  • That the device is actually a deadly weapon. Unlike those fibbers from Billund would have you believe, you can’t destroy a single planet with this, or even your neighbor’s hedge. The only real danger is choking or losing your sanity while reading the manual.
  • That the manual is in any way useful or understandable. It’s thick and depressing, and most likely just full of pictures of things you’ll never manage to finish.

Responsibilities (continued)

The winner is solely responsible for making sure they're prepared for absolutely anything—and also for the completely impossible things this pile of plastic might throw at them. That means, for example:

  • That you’re ready both in mind and body. We’re not to blame if, after ten days of building, the grey plastic bricks start speaking Danish to you or you begin dreaming only of instruction manual pages. If your mind snaps halfway through the building process, that’s between you and your therapist.
  • That you have proper accident insurance. This building set might launch you into galactic glory—or at the very least, to the emergency room. It’s good to have insurance if you end up explaining to a doctor why there’s a permanent 2x4 brick-shaped hole in your foot, or if you find yourself competing in the local championship for frustration-induced shouting with zero prior experience.
  • That you have the right attitude. Because this isn’t some relaxing puzzle moment—it’s an adventure and a battle against your own patience. Anything is possible—except being sure you’ll ever finish this, or that it’ll look like anything other than a heap of grey despair.

Responsibilities (to be continued)

By entering the draw, you accept these rules and admit that you’re either brave enough (or desperate enough) to take on this Danish plastic nightmare, the outcome of which no one – not even us – has the faintest clue about.

The organizer reserves the right to laugh kindly when (not if) the winner realizes that this pile of plastic won’t conquer even the neighbor’s backyard, let alone an entire galaxy.

The organizer also reserves the right to advertise epic, planet-destroying warships – and then admit to being duped and instead raffle off a heap of toys. But hey, it’s still better than a caravan spot at the Puolanka campsite, even if the mood while building this thing might be just as bleak.

It all depends on the gods of the marketing budget. The more newsletter subscribers and headphone buyers we get, the less we’ll have to rely on Danish tricksters or raffle off nothing but plastic bricks in the future.

Owning and building this “Death Star” is entirely at your own risk. The only thing we promise is that this construction project will give you a story to tell in the nursing home – if you survive it without a total mental collapse!