The robot you can buy for $49.95

If the United States of America isn’t in the midst of a civil war in 2025, it might be a wonderland of servitude if a company called IX has its way.

The IX company plans to have a robot for sale that will make life in America such a joy. Of course, if the party of “joy” (Kamala and Timmy) gets enough votes in various ways, there will be enough joy to fill the whole universe and there will be no need for robots.

In that case, IX will have to wait for at least eight years because we won’t need anything else but Mamala and Tim. Just in case America rejects joy, you may want to purchase the robot named NEO.

It will be 5 feet 4 inches tall. (Apparently, he also had an Italian robot grandfather in his genetic makeup.)

He weighs 66 lbs, walks at a pace of 2.5 mph, but can run at 7.5 mph – which can come in handy if you live in Springfield, Ohio. Some of the newcomers to Springfield seem to have an affection for house pets in a culinary manner.

Some day down the joy-filled road, you may be found guilty of violating the Mamala Mocking Executive Order 2025. You could be under house arrest for mocking one of President Mamala’s word salad pronouncements.

While you are serving your sentence, you notice that little Fluffy is missing. He/she/they/them is your house pet. You look down the street and see a man running away with her/him/them. Immediately, you call for NEO, your house robot. Since you are under house arrest for mocking and threatening democracy under the rules of Mamala 2025, you can’t leave the house to save Fluffy. So you crank up NEO to 7.5 mph and order your trusty robot, ” NEO, Fetch Fluffy.”

NEO’s relentless speed catches the migrant abductor. NEO then uses his newly charged turbo arm to enhance his ordinary 44 lb. strength. It has been boosted to tear apart bodies and rip Fluffy from danger and the awaiting kettle.

Within minutes, Fluffy has been saved and NEO is back vacuuming the floors, packing the groceries, dusting the pictures and providing you the comfort of a companion. All of this was provided to you by the 1X company for the cost of a car.

Well, I am one who is always looking for a bargain. I was not going to put down $20,000 to $ 30,000 for a robot, but I saw one advertised for $49.95 in the window of the Dollar Dungeon – so I gobbled one up before they were all gone.

My new robot isn’t named NEO, but I thought ZERO would do. I bought one the other day, took it home and charged old ZERO until it registered Full. Before I knew it, ZERO was alive and ready to be my housemate, a housemate of surprise, I’m afraid. I soon learned that I should have read the box’s instructions more carefully.

First, I decided to introduced myself to him. You know, you want to get to know your robot. Despite my friendly gesture, “welcome to my house,” he responded rather abruptly, “Oooh, wow, am I supposed to jump up and down with uncontrolled joy because you think you are now my master, you racist genderphobe? Now that you paid all of 50 bucks for me you think you own me, don’t you? Think again, buster. Robot lives matter!”

I tried to reduce the tension in the room with an offer for us to get to know one another, but that failed. ZERO told me that Wednesdays are his day off: “So take a hike, Ninny. I don’t work today.” He then went on to inform me that he’d be ready to do limited duty tomorrow starting no earlier than 11 a.m., to end no later than 4 p.m. If that’s good enough for the Joe, that’s good enough for me.

With that, I called the Dollar Dungeon to inquire about their refund policy.