All you have to do is make caps.

Build the line, automate the flow, ship the orders. Cork, plastic, aluminum: every cap starts as a raw slab and travels through your factory to the loading dock. A simple trade. Honest. Relaxing, almost.

Then there's them.

Six investors put money into your company, and each one wants something different. One demands volume and despises quality. Another turns up his nose if you dirty your hands with plastic. Yet another only counts margins, and can't even remember what you make. Every quarter they sit down, look at their one number, the KPI, and decide whether you're still useful.

What awaits you

• Complete production chains: five processing levels across three materials, from raw slab to certified cap. Design the line, then watch it run.
  
• Six investors with faces and personalities: no boss here is a monster. Your antagonist signs your paycheck, and the quarterly review is the real showdown.
  
• Repeatable runs, high stakes: every run stands on its own, with a shifting market, fresh objectives, and upgrades to pick under pressure.
  
• Only one ending counts: Independence: beat your investor's challenge, buy back every share, and shut the door in their face on your last day. No owners. Just you and the factory.

It's not just a factory

Bottlecappers is a management satire where corporate language takes cap production terribly seriously. Every investor has a voice, demands, and a way of reminding you who's in charge. You have your production line, and the stubbornness to take it back.

Make caps. Sell them. Survive the review.

And if you're good, stop having a boss.