If it were possible to do so, the company would sell what all businesses of its kind dream about selling, creating that which all of our efforts were tacitly supposed to achieve: the ultimate product - Nothing. And for this product they would command the ultimate price - Everything. This market strategy would then go on until one day, among the world-wide ruins of derelict factories and warehouses and office buildings, there stood only a single, shining, windowless structure with no entrance and no exit. Inside would be - will be - only a dense network of computers calculating profits. Outside will be tribes of savage vagrants with no comprehension of the nature or purpose of the shining, windowless structure. Perhaps they will worship it as a god. Perhaps they will try to destroy it, their primitive armory proving wholly ineffectual against the smooth and impervious walls of the structure, upon which not even a scratch can be inflicted.
Just as bleak and revolted at the experience of being as Ligotti's darkest in The Clown Puppet or The Bungalow House, while adding a startling humor that doesn't take anything away from the ominous, vengeful tone.
I think the anti-capitalist satire has a lot to do with how the horror and humor can coexist. In Ligotti already explored the ideal Factory as a site of horror, but the outsider perspective (and shorter form) made it only as political as any other story in which we are disturbed by a decaying factory. In MWiNYD, our main character actually works for the Company, letting us feel the weight of that meaningless labor, paving a perfect in-road to both fear and comedy.
