We're a sad species, aren't we? A sad, sad species whose existence has become a house of cards built from carpal tunnel, self-imposed TV omnibuses and microwaveable Rustlers burgers. And we don't even really enjoy that anymore. The only time that we're not distracted or miserable is when we're having sex, and apparently we're having less sex and worse sex than ever before. We may as well give up; let humanity seep into a sludge of monotony, misery and impotence.
According to news reports, there is one last hope on the horizon: a messiah for mankind, emerging on the shores of Hong Kong. And there's one term for it: sex robot.
After a lifetime of fawning over a mixture of robots and the female form, Ricky Ma Wai-Key has completed his dream. Mark I is a 3D skeleton—with a creepy resemblance to Scarlett Johansson—covered in silicone skin, responsive to compliments and commands, able to move limbs and intimately completed with the specifics of the female anatomy.
He's convinced that robots like these can save us from the traps of loneliness, depression and stagnation that have cursed millennials. And he's so firm about this that he's publishing a handbook to help you build your very own Mark I.
I think Ricky's absolutely right. This could be the most important invention of our time - a creation that may go on to shape this earth. But Ricky, I'm afraid you're just not quite there. Elon Musk won't be handing you a blank cheque anytime soon, and it's for a couple of simple reasons.
Reason number one: this is very much made in your image, isn't it Ricky? Not every person walking the earth is a heterosexual male who has watched The Avengers through 43 times on silent.
Reason number two: considering that most humans out there in the age of austerity have mortgages or rent, food and families to spend their money on, do you really think that everybody can afford the £37,103 ($62,660) price tag? No. If you're going to change the world with a sex robot, it has to appeal en masse.
Sorry Rick, but Mark I simply doesn't do that. Though it pains me to say this, your invention is bullshit and I'm about to better it in a single day. World get ready for Mark II: Oobah-style.
STEP ONE: RESEARCH
All a sex robot, of course, needs to provide is sexual satisfaction, but as someone who has pretended they know what anal beads are for nearly a decade now, I'm going to need some help with this. So I shake off the prudish shackles of Irish Catholic lineage and head into London's sexual capital of Soho to chat things through with fully qualified sexpert, Dan.
"What's the most important thing about a sex toy, Dan?" I ask.
"People need to feel in control, they need to feel stable. And I guess that it has to hit all of the right spots. It doesn't even have to vibrate – the male g-spot, the prostate, the nipples—wherever. It depends on what people are into."
"What are the biggest sellers?"
"I would say something that vibrates. But we have replica dildos of specific porn stars that a lot of people like in particular—it's not specifically the shape of the penis they're getting off there, it's the idea of being someone they can associate it with."
"Interesting. And the golden question here I suppose Dan is: if you were building a sex toy, a mythical creature that represented something beyond your wildest dreams, what would be on it?"
"I'm a visual person. I love the idea of a virtual reality headset that incorporates porn and masturbator toys that involve themselves with that. But in principle, I suppose that is the combination of something visually and mentally stimulating with real life sensation. It needs to be unpredictable and get people out of their shell."
I nod my head and stare off into the distance. Eventually, Dan asks for the specifics of my mission: top secret information that I simply couldn't divulge, nonetheless he sensed I was up to something of importance and implored me to analyse the stock. So I did.
Fresh from this tete-a-tete, my mind is brimming with ideas. Of course, there's a bit more to a perfect partner is a little bit more than just tits ass and dick. But it's hard to put your finger on exactly what that "bit" is.
I stroll the streets of Soho asking myself that question, but everybody I'm speaking to seems to be as in the dark as I am. One woman tells me she just needs to find someone with a spark, but that sounds dangerous and non-compliant with EU regulations.
Eventually I come across a couple glowing with that unmistakable hue of love. They won't be photographed, but do invite me over for a glass of wine in the sun. This wonderful Jordanian duo of 17 years, holidaying in celebration of some euphoric personal news playfully trade details they love about one another like two sparring partners.
"I like a strong figure", "I want somebody I can laugh with", "something needs to click", "my perfect partner doesn't take shit from anyone and they don't give a shit themselves." I begin to make a checklist.
With sexual and emotional attractiveness sorted, I now just need to deal with the biggy: physical appearance. No one knows more about making someone artificially beautiful with plastic than the doctors of Harley Street, so I pay the experts a visit.
After a quick stint in their waiting room, I'm hurried into a clinic and a male doctor is pinching my lips, asking if I drink a lot, and pulling at the bags under my eyes. Yes, I have a shrivelled mouth and the eye sockets of Andy Serkis, but that's not why we're here. We're here to find out exactly what features the general public long for.
"What are the most common procedures that you give to the average person that walks through this door?" I ask him as he lifts up my arm.
"Well, it depends. The most common process for younger people would be breast implants, maybe followed by rhinoplasties. Then with the older generation it is all about skin, they want it to feel as natural as possible."
"What is the aim there then?"
"They want to look fresh, alive: to feel vital."
"Of course! I understand now. Thank you."
STEP TWO: CONCEPTION
I'd learned more about the optimum specimen in three hours than I managed in 25 years on this earth. There had been enough talking: now it was time for action. It seemed to me that love, beauty and sexual pleasure needn't cost a fortune. I wasn't going to spend £40,000 ($67,553) on my bot. I reckon I could get the whole thing sorted for £11.60 ($19.59).
So with a headful of dreams, a recipe for success and my science brain secured, I make a beeline for where all dreams are made (affordably): the supermarkets and poundshops of London.
There's just so much here. Every aisle breathes a Narnian realm of possibilities: could a watering can evenly distribute hand sanitiser? Would a set of taught ties hold the average human's body weight? Are people attracted by a mirror reflection? Does bubblegum feel like a butthole?
I'm staring down the shaft of oblivion—each object beginning to form into a cock, each one looking into my soul—but I must keep my eyes on the prize. I weather the storm and soon enough, the trolley is fully, the collection is complete. Now I must make haste for my workshop, for though the lord himself had taken six days to create man, I was going to do it in a mere hour or two.
STEP THREE: CREATION
Within an afternoon, it was done. There it stood, as simple and as stunning as the sun. Blood surges from limb-to-limb and my heart feels like it's beating for the very first time. Tears begin to bathe the basins of my eyes. It is everything I dreamed of and more.
Get ready to have your life turned upside down. Humanity will never be the same again. No more heartbreak. No more frustration. No more trying to change a man who will just never change. Let me introduce you to the future of romance. Let me introduce you to the one, the only...
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And we've been on enough dates in our time to appreciate how a good sense of humour can be a dealbreaker, but The Oobot is well-endowed in that department too.
But The Oobot isn't all about enjoying yourself. Put on your finest threads and show it a wheel good time, taking advantage of its convenient transportation system.
Whether it's visiting London's most beautiful parks or simply enjoying a day at the Sealife Centre, do all the things that you've dreamed of doing with your perfect partner, and do it on your terms.
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In fact, the staff may be so awestruck, they'll argue The Oobot is simply too much of a distraction at their establishment—so beautiful that its mere presence would make the restaurant look bad. But you better get used to this: you're in the big leagues now. You've entered another lexicon of mankind: you have The Oobot.
The Oobot, in stores in time for Christmas. Gift wrap available.
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