The tiny, little autonomous M5’UKR’6 was one of the many minibots made by AIGen Corporations in the year 2135.
Fully pre-customized, ‘MINiature roBOTS’ categorized under the production title of ‘The Help’, were intricately designed to serve as domestic recreational machines to individuals of age 4-12. Simply put, they were a rich kid’s play doll.
These bots picked sale by the year 2137 and were in the hands of any and every upper-middle class family kid that lived in Metropolis during that time. But despite showing peak sales for 2 whole years, these bots were officially shut from production by the year 2140 due to significant drop in sales that the production cost could not cover.
The sole reason for this being, although a minibot could serve as an entertaining, recreational commodity to a kid, serving as a catching partner in Softball, as a music player reciting his/her favorite poems, lulling him/her off to sleep at night, etc., etc. it was, in the end, still a robot, incapable of showing human emotions that a child could reciprocate to. For eg., it could detect a child was either in pain or sadness when he cried, but could not distinguish between the two. And thus it could not tend to a child’s emotional needs, which in the case of toddlers, is rather undecipherable, even to a lot of human minds.
This would lead to toddlers crying incessantly when they were in emotional distress, and the minibots, unable to determine the cause of their wailing, would keep on feeding them their chew toys and nipples and patting them on their backs as the robots went about going hysterical, their systems overheating, due to the non-completion of a single task loop at their hands.
And despite almost all the units being either sold out or called back at the production facilities by end of the year 2140, the little M5’UKR’6 still gathered dust at the window pane of a lone toy shop in the town of Futurama, Metropolis. Kids of all ages visited the shop almost everyday, buying mini laser guns and hover-scooters, but nobody ever laid an eye upon the lonesome tiny robot that sat by the window pane in a corner, gathering rust.
And then one day, a tiny, little girl, with blue eyes and apple cheeks, wearing a pale-brown ragged leftover skirt, stood outside the window eyeing the little robot, beaming at the old, rusty toy, as her palms rested upon the glass of the window. After a while, she saw the price tag that lay beside the bot, then stared at her scarred, tiny feet that had no shoes on them and kept staring at them, dejected, broken, for what seemed like an eternity.
And our tiny, little ‘M5’UKR’6’ minibot, one the last few robots under the category of ‘The Help’, that were rejected solely on the basis of their utter lack of emotional capability, shed a drop of motor oil from his eye, when he saw the little girl, with apple cheeks and no shoes, leave the window pane. Her eyes still staring at the ground below her….