We bought a little robot

To help us clean the floor.

It wasn't real expensive,

We could have spent much more,

*

But all the bells and whistles,

Self-dumping and the like,

Seemed frivilous and wasteful,

So we bought this little tyke.

*

We named our robot "Biscuit"

Because it seemed to fit,

But since I've got to know it,

I call it "Little Sh*t."

*

It beeps and plays a little tune

When it begins to suck.

It even speaks some funny lines,

Like, "Help! My brush is stuck!"

*

It knows its way around the house,

And wipes from door to door,

By dragging anything behind

You left upon the floor.

*

It interrupts my writing

By bludgeoning my feet

Until I back out from the desk,

Acknowledging defeat.

*

When Biscuit hits a threshold,

Because the floors aren't level,

It bumps and spins and whirls, as if

Possessed by Robot Devil.

*

When all the rooms have been attacked,

It finds its way home soon

And parks its happy little butt

And plays a happy tune.

*

And when the little sh*t is done,

Everything's dust free

Until I empty out its tray,

And then, the dust's on me.

*

But Biscuit is a toddler,

Whom we hope one day will grow,

Into a real, live robot

We'll all be proud to know.

*

Meanwhile, my friends and neighbors,

Please heed my warning well,

If you buy the cheaper model,

Prepare for AI hell!