Abandoned Robot Pets Pose Threat To New York Suburb
A New York suburb is "damn tired" of the mongrel robocats and robodogs living in their neighborhood, said town officials this past friday at a press conference.
The animals, probably bastard descendents of abandoned "Poochies" and "Meowchis," have been plaguing the neighborhood for several months. Residents complain of trash cans being overturned in search of discarded floppy disks and memory cards, while others report that outdoor appliances and power lines have been stripped of wiring.
The animals, once tame and able to emulate popular songs, have since grown wild and unruly. Some have even "turned vicious", reports one resident.
Eva Sanders says her 12-year-old son, Emilio, was walking home from school when a pack of mongrel Poochies started following him.
He "tried to pet one [when] they suddenly attacked," she said tearfully.
Emilio was only spared from a painful death when a quick-thinking neighbor threw a USB cable into the street, distracting the pack of Poochies long enough for the boy to be rescued.
Emilio suffered severe bruising and lacerations, especially around his left wrist, where his watch was gnawed off by the yipping horde of plastic robodogs. Although he has since recovered from the attack, he still does not feel "ready to talk about [the Poochie attack]." His mother believes "Emilio will need much, much more time to heal."
"We're having trouble even getting him near an electronic device," she said, a pained look in her eyes, "and the sound of the microwave beeping sends him into hysterics."
Although mortal enemies in the natural world, the robocats and robodogs have teamed up, and rumors have it that they have even spawned a hideous half-feline/half-canine animal, with twice the power of its preceding generation.
Animal psychologist Chad Bartley offered this piece of advice: "It's best not to anger the animals, whether by taunting them with a Discman or even a cellphone. If they're desperate or depraved enough, they'll attack anything with wires in it, in order to reproduce."
He then went on to lament a society that so quickly tired of its robotic pets that it cast them out on the streets.
"Left to fend for themselves, these animals quickly turned to a darker life...a life devoid of tinny renditions of 'Happy Birthday to You,'" he said ominously. "Now their eyes do not flash with love, but with hatred. They do not dance; they plot revenge. Our time is coming."
He concluded his warning by adding, "And if you see a Furby screaming at the top of its little voice box in Furbish out on a street corner, do not pick it up, do not try to comfort it by rubbing its back. Just run. That's your only chance for survival."