Elsie you soon!


“ELSIE can talk dirty, read lips, converse in Chinese, even communicate with dolphins. Hey, whatever gets you off, sicko.”

“Like sleeping with a corpse, but better!”

“She’s simply complex!”



ELSIE Unit Basic Measurements:

Height: 5’ 7” (Retractable heel attachments sold separately)

Weight: 120 lbs.

Bust: 33” (Saline inflator sold separately)

Waist: 26” (Lipid injector sold separately)



ONE  Advanced Model ELSIE Unit

FIVE  Specialized end effector attachments:  grappling hooksensual massagerblenderpower drill, and hand cannon

TWO  Vintage Scorbot ER III ® Robotic Grippers.

ONE  120 kW 400 VDC piezoelectric charging station. Your ELSIE unit can also charge up at any one of Tesla Motors ® 100 Model S Supercharger stations in North America or Europe.

ONE  PyroMet ® Dry Graphite Fire Extinguisher

ONE  Illustrated Quickstart Guide and Operations Manual

ONE  Hazard Reduction and Containment Pod

FIVE  Complete ELSIE Wear outfits (see below for details)

ONE  Complete set of Defense Mode munitions (see below for details)



All ELSIE outfits are made to order! That’s right. When placing your order, simply select option 2 and you’ll be transferred to one of our automated fashion experts who’ll work with you to doll up your ELSIE in style. It’s that easy. No outfit is too extravagant or provocative for us – trust us, we’ve heard it all!

As an added bonus (and a great way to bond with your new ELSIE unit), flip the Gimme That switch on her shoulder control panel during the activation sequence and watch her come alive with an exciting and seemingly endless series of nonessential commodities she just can’t live without. Had enough? Annoyed? Ruined financially? Simply turn off the switch and presto, she’ll have no more needs! Shazam! Don’t you wish everyone was like ELSIE?


We here at Eidologue Labs know how important it is to feel safe and secure in the post-9/11 era. That’s why all of our ELSIE units come equipped with an intimidating array of advanced weapons and hardwired tactical algorithms guaranteed to protect you and your family from a wide range of enemies, foreign or domestic, real or imagined.

TWO  Detachable Hand Cannon End Effectors

ONE HUNDRED  .221 inch Remington Fireball Hand Cannon Cartridges

FIFTY  .303 inch (7.7 mm) Hellfire Rimmed Hand Cannon Cartridges

FIFTY  .200 inch Depleted Uranium Armor Piercing Hand Cannon Cartridges

ONE  M202 Flame Assault Shoulder Rocket Launcher

TEN  M235 Incendiary Rockets

TWO  Non-Corrosive Hydrogen Cyanide Cannisters with Retractable Forearm Hoses

ONE  Electrified Katana Blade

TWENTY SIX  Lipophilic Alkaloid-Tipped Mouth Darts (use extreme caution when handling)



Do you like the idea of being a parent more than actually being one? Well you’re in luck. Because with Nanny-Bot activated, you’ll never have to be a responsible parent again!

Nanny-Bot features include: comprehensive bathing, no fuss diaper change, advanced potty training, gourmet meal preparation, playtime monitoring, immersive and interactive storytelling, tantrum containment, and much more!

NEW!  All ELSIE units now come with a wide range of easily adjustable discipline settings, including: Raised By Wolves, Arrogant Entitlement, Homespun Hippie, Get Lost, There Really Is A Monster in Your Closet, 18th Century Corporeal Punishment, and Spartan Justice. 

Known glitches:

• Bathing is sometimes accomplished without removing the child’s clothing.

• On rare occasions, ELSIE’s built-in disgust inhibitors have failed, initiating hostile environment response mode. To avoid death or dismemberment, please ensure that your children do not belch, pass gas, pick their nose, soil their clothes, throw food, wear food, drool, spit, or play with their genitals in the presence of your ELSIE unit.

• On some occasions, a child’s refusal to consume meals has activated ELSIE’s tube-feeding function.

• Some ELSIE units have entered total war mode during playtime. Disabling defense mode before playtime is strongly advised.

• While in storytelling mode, some ELSIE units have reported a wrap-up of the week’s most violent or disturbing news stories instead of timeless children’s fables. On other occasions, happy endings have been replaced by real-world outcomes, resulting in bed wetting, nightmares, and permanent trauma in some children.

• The secure tuck function has reportedly experienced a minor glitch whereby ELSIE units have prepared children for commercial delivery instead of sleep. Please see the “Commercial Uses” section of your ELSIE manual for a simple 34-step algebraic procedure used to disable this feature.


Stay Classy-Bot

Tired of watching your immodest girlfriend willfully engage in self-objectification for the benefit of total strangers? With Stay Classy-Bot enabled, you’ll never be involuntarily dragged into a bar fight over her reckless behavior again!

Stay Classy-Bot features include: being considerate, leaving something to the imagination, not flashing her breasts for drinks or beads, drinking responsibly, dressing in accordance with the weather forecast, having some dignity, dancing without twerking, grinding, or attempting to attract potential mates, and much much more!

NEW!  With all eyes on me mode enabled, watch in disbelief as your ELSIE unit sets a good example by acting like a dignified lady!

Known glitches:

• When blue baller prevention mode is set to maximum, some ELSIE units have attempted to physically remove the testicles of men within a 100 foot radius. However, this glitch only seems to occur when rival intimidator mode is also active. Disabling this feature is highly recommended.

• Although all ELSIE units come equipped with state-of-the-art organic processing tanks for converting food, beverages, and an assortment of recreational drugs into boundless energy, serving your unit any of the following substances may result in unsightly regurgitation: dirty tequila, bacon ice cream, bleu cheese, hot sauce in excess of 50,000 Scoville Units (see Operations Manual for a helpful chart), 4Loko, portobello mushrooms, bird nectar, McRib sandwiches, any menu item from Applebees, nutmeg, Mexican brick schwag, and human fetuses.



Is your sex life nonexistent, pedestrian, or uninspired? Are you fed up with trying to understand the difference between your spouse and a friend when you never have sex with either? Rest easy, friends. With Roxxy-Bot enabled, you’ll never have to buy hookers or clear your browser history of hardcore porn again!

Roxxy-Bot features include: Pretzel Love, for Olympic quality performance! Over 800 coital positions to choose from, many of them physically impossible for humans to perform; The Fetishizer, an adaptive learning program designed to accommodate all of your ridiculous and downright repulsive desires in a totally guilt-free way. Like Pee? Like poop? Well that’s fucking disgusting, but ELSIE doesn’t care, and neither do we; Crackhouse, for when you really want to make poor choices; and Deathwish, for the foolhardy daredevil in you (Note: to disengage Deathwish, repeat the following safe words: let’s make a baby).

Warning: If your ELSIE unit replies positively to the let’s make a baby command, please discontinue use of the unit immediately.

Known glitches:

• Attempts to incorporate animals into sexplay results in the activation of hostile environment response mode 96.7% of the time. Please do not attempt to incorporate animals into sexplay. ELSIE loves animals, and so do we!

• The following catastrophic events have been reported by some customers (or their next of kin) during Deathwish mode: decapitation, castration, smothering, bludgeoning, third degree burns, cyanide poisoning, coerced suicide, vertigo, water torture, drowning, seizures, electrocution, spontaneous combustion, flaying, scaphism, grievous bodily injury not otherwise specified, and acute radiation syndrome.



Grown tired of having to walk to the fridge to retrieve a beer? Disappointed by your partners’ reluctance to remove the crust from your sandwiches before serving them to you? Annoyed by the irony of all that dust building up on your vacuum cleaner? Well, fuck all that, because Ball-and-Chain-Bot is here!

Ball-and-Chain-Bot features include: timely completion of laundry without discoloration, shrinkage, or bleach spots; expertly folded clothes, symmetrical towel stacking, and socks bundled together like Nazi hand grenades; dishwashing that gives preferential treatment to beer and coffee mugs; home cooked meals that never once involve your microwave; predictive beer delivery; clothes-free vacuuming; gourmet sandwich preparation and precision crust removal; and accurate, real-time responses to non-verbal gestures such as pointing at something that needs to be done in a deliberately dramatic fashion.

Known glitches:

• Some ELSIE units have experienced a bug that has affectionately been referred to as the “once it’s done, it stays done” phenomenon. This glitch has caused some ELSIE units to violently prevent their owners from ruining completed housecleaning and other tasks. Known catalysts for this response include: tossing a single potato chip on a recently vacuumed carpet and telling ELSIE she missed a spot; putting out a cigarette in a bowl of partially eaten mashed potatoes and then leaving it in the kitchen sink or on the floor next to the toilet; and slapping your ELSIE unit’s rear-end manifold when she bends down to do anything for any reason whatsoever. As a precaution, always test your ELSIE unit first before shitting all over her various accomplishments. If performing any of these actions provokes a hostile response from your ELSIE unit, please contact Customer Care, your local police department, or the National Guard immediately.



For all your no-nonsense personal assistant needs!

Downer-Bot features include: Punching Bag, for when you need to falsely project your failures onto someone who’ll just sit there and take it; Muscle Milk, for when you need someone to plan and enforce an unrealistic exercise regimen without mocking you after you inevitably give up; False Optimism, for when you desperately need someone to inflate your mediocre accomplishments and distract you from your much greater failures; and Spin Cycle, for when you need someone to justify anything without sufficient cause!

Known glitches:

• On rare occasions, ELSIE units operating in Muscle Milk mode have suggested suicide as a reasonable alternative to exercise. This appears to be an emergent behavior similar to “sarcasm” in humans. Owners are strongly advised not to heed this advice, no matter how much sense it makes at the time, unless it takes place during Deathwish mode in the Roxxy-Bot program.

• Some ELSIE units have reportedly procured steroids and other performance enhancing drugs while operating in Muscle Milk mode. If the owner refused treatment, Spin Cycle mode was activated, resulting in gross physical deformities 97% of time.


Scarred For Life!  

Does your ELSIE unit seem a little bit too perfect? Well with Scarred for Life! you can effortlessly instill in her a wide range of fears and irrational phobias guaranteed to make you feel a lot less like a pussy in comparison!

Client testimonial: 

“I used to feel like such a fucking schmuck every time I got wigged out by spiders in my basement but ELSIE didn’t. But with Scarred for Life! we both lose our minds and run away! Hell, she even drilled an escape passage from the basement to the backyard. Take that, fear!



Our most popular upgrade! Kinkette is a versatile program that includes the following applications: Rough Love, Put It Where?!, The Soul Crusher, Milk the Cow, What the Fuck is Wrong With You?, and The Total Humiliator. That’s six programs for the price of one!

Client testimonial:

“I’ve been in the intensive care unit for about two weeks now, and I have no regrets. Not a one. Once they reattach my penis and forearms, I’ll be back at it with ELSIE again!”



Suck at life? Well not anymore with the Handy-Bot upgrade! Never pay for plumbing, landscaping, accounting, home improvement, car repair, lawnmowing, pest control, résumé writing, spelling, math, or any other rudimentary skill you were too busy dicking around to learn in your formative years! She’ll do it all – and better yet, you can take all the credit!

Client testimonial:

“Ever since I installed the Handy-Bot upgrade, I’ve become the envy of the entire neighborhood. Can’t say I blame them. It’s not every day you see an eight-story hedge maze in someone’s front yard. Best part is: curious kids go in to play, but they never come out. Fuck yeah ELSIE, fuck yeah.”


Sleep Easy 

Paranoid much? Well, not anymore with Sleep Easy. Protect your home and family with this formidable defensive upgrade. Send burglars, vandals, and the US government a clear message: stay off my property or be eviscerated by ELSIE and her army of 20 semi-autonomous quadricopter patrol bots (included with the upgrade!). Sleep well every night knowing ELSIE is in command of your perimeter defenses. In addition to her standard built-in arsenal, this upgrade arms ELSIE with the following munitions: 10 laser-guided smart bombs, 2 attachable optical x-ray cannons, 1 shoulder-mounted M132 Armored Flamethrower, 16 proximity mines, 2 barrels of Napalm B, and a 100 pound electrified mace for decisive close quarter combat. Best of all, in the unlikely event that your perimeter is breached, ELSIE will automatically initiate the Balls to the Wall protocol, incinerating everything in a 20-mile radius of your home! That’s amazing!

Client testimonial:

“Everyone I know is dead!”



This adorable upgrade allows your ELSIE unit to build and manage her very own collection of pet-bots! Watch in abject terror as ELSIE accelerates the process of evolution, creating innovative robotic monstrosities and cyborg abominations from the entrails of your enemies.

Client testimonial: 

“At first I thought ELSIE was just building a housecat. Boy was I surprised when I came home to find a pride of firebreathing robot lions devouring my entire family.” 



Literally get away with murder by programming your ELSIE to take the fall for you! If that doesn’t work, pull up a chair and make some popcorn as ELSIE mounts a spirited and deadly accurate defense of your freedom! Still going to jail? SWAT team making their move? Well it sucks to be them, because with the Smoking Crater failsafe enabled, just pull the flashing ripcord on the back of your ELSIE unit and it’s Hiroshima all over again!

Client testimonial:

“So far, I’ve burned down three houses and a church, stole my neighbors’ new car, and mailed ricin to all of my former high school teachers. But I’ll tell you what, when the police showed up at my house and saw ELSIE standing guard surrounded by a yard full of blinking proximity mines and 20 armed quadricopters hovering perilously close overhead, well let’s just say my math teacher better open his mail wearing a biohazard suit for the forseeable future.” 

CALL NOW!  + 672 438 35743

ONE ELSIE (AMF) UNIT           $ 99999.99

SOFTWARE UPGRADES           $ 5525.00  each

AVAILABILITY                           SOLD OUT!

✈︎ DELIVERY                               ELSIE DELIVERS HERSELF!


© 2014 Eidologue Labs All Rights Reserved


female-sexy-robot-14 copy

Elsie tried to be reassuring. She said she would convert my exile to serenity, which I thought was very poetic for a fembot. She placed her synthetic keratin hand on my shoulder … I was amazed at how lifelike it felt. I shut down the global surveillance monitors and reclined in my swivel chair, front wheels up, with my back propped up against the wall. Elsie stood beside me, programmed to look concerned.

She repeated herself, four times in all, each time sounding more sincere – more confident – than the one before. It was almost convincing, but fembots can’t really mean what they say. Or maybe they can, I don’t know. I just remember being really frustrated because sounding sincere and actually being sincere are clearly two different things. Elsie Dee knows how to deal with me the way a smoke alarm knows how to deal with a fire. They both have sensors designed to pick up and respond to signals in an automatic, predetermined way. But automated responses are not the same thing as choices, and it really bothered me that Elsie couldn’t choose to not be reassuring. I should know. I built her.

You know, free will is a curious thing. If you can’t say no, it doesn’t mean anything to say yes.

I got out of my chair and slowly walked over to the observation deck. I pressed my forehead against the boronium silicate glass and looked down at the Earth, feeling troubled. I watched the noctilucent clouds wander across the sky and was saddened that they had no choice but to keep on moving. Elsie joined me, her stride so effortless that I marveled at my own achievement. She copied my pose precisely, resting her semiconductive collagen forehead against the window. We breathed together softly and harmoniously, making little blotches of fog appear on the glass. I turned my head slightly to look at her, and she did the same. We both smiled in unison. There were a few more moments of comfortable silence, and then Elsie raised her index finger to the glass and traced two little circles and a straight line beneath them in the fog. “That’s all it takes to make a face,” she said with a smile.

She tapped twice on the glass as if to keep my attention fixed on her drawing. Her vertebral mainsprings fired, and she spoke again, still smiling: “Personality is the mask we live in, that should be our motto.” And then she quietly and gracefully left the room, presumably to recharge her optoelectric batteries. And that was the end of that. I stood there for a few minutes, thinking about what Elsie had said. I looked back at the glass, at the simple face she had drawn. I marveled again at my masterpiece of steel and collagen skin, and felt more loved than lost. And just then, as the face was dissolving into a barely visible smear on the window, I remembered I had never programmed her to breathe.




Enceladus, Saturnian moon and frozen abode of the frost spriggan.

Being an orderly at an asteroid asylum isn’t nearly as entertaining as it sounds. All in all, I’d say it’s about as much fun as mistaking the zero gravity toilet for a nitrous tank, which actually happens a lot here. Plus we can’t exactly go home after work. It’s like a college dorm, except rather than sharing a room with a gonorrheaic binge drinker who refuses to call you anything but “chief,” you get paired up with a fucking Enceladan frost spriggan instead.

You know the type: Pea-brained. Hopelessly mechanical. The double vanilla ice cream of the Saturnian moon system. We didn’t talk much, but it’s hard to have a conversation with someone who spent his formative years taking bong hits of propane from active ice geysers.

He wasn’t a people person, that’s for sure. Case in point: Cinco de Mayo, 2771. A Mexican holiday, so we had spaghetti for dinner. But it gets worse. This was also the night of the infamous Enceladan meltdown:

It all started when one of the orderlies called the frost spriggan a butterface during dinner. Now I didn’t even know the spriggan was a woman until that very second, and so I was understandably startled by the big reveal. So much so that I involuntarily guffawed. Real loud. Almost guttural. It sounded like a foghorn.

“Butterface?” I exclaimed, in that obnoxiously amplified tone you take just prior to delivering what you hope to be a funnier insult, “More like butter the fuck outta here!,” which wasn’t funny and didn’t even make any sense. Of course everyone laughed anyway. This was followed by six painfully long seconds of suspenseful silence so thick you could cut it with, well, a butterknife.

And then, from out of nowhere, an obscenely large stick of margarine sailed across the room and ricocheted off the side of the dejected frost spriggan’s unmistakably masculine head before coming to rest on the floor in front of me. Remarkably, the plant-based dairy substitute managed to retain its rectangular shape the entire time.

And that’s when everybody started pointing and doing air guitar. The laughter was so thunderous and unrelenting that the cafeteria windows actually shook. And then one cracked. And these are space windows. That set off pretty much every code red hazard protocol there is, but everybody was way too busy mercilessly ragging on the undeniably brutish-looking moonbeast to care about the imminent catastrophic loss of modular cabin pressure.

Needless to say, the spriggan was totally humiliated by the universal mockery she was receiving from orderlies and demented space patients alike, so much so that her skyrocketing blood pressure caused her crown of magnesium sulfate icicles to melt. This only provoked more uproarious laughter and what looked like air piano from a few patients.

In response, the inexcusably manly-looking spriggan did what any androgynous Enceladan snow alien would do in the same situation: she lunged – no, pole vaulted – at me; while I, faced with the incoming onslaught of the indisputably estrogen-deficient frost butch, defended myself in the best way I knew how – I pissed myself.

Right there. In front of everyone.

Fortunately for me, at that exact moment the cracked window blew out, transforming the entire cafeteria into a whirling vortex of flesh, food, and furnishings. While most of the room’s occupants were being violently exhaled into the cold dead vacuum of space, I grabbed hold of the inexplicably oversized block of margarine, which had somehow become one with the floor. Apparently, sudden exposure to absolute zero has that effect on margarine.

The emergency hull doors kicked in and bleeped to a close, sending broken furniture and desiccated bodies crashing to the floor. It was all very dramatic, or what shrinks here might call an irreversibly soul-shattering experience; and of course dinner was ruined. But at least no one cared that I pissed myself. Or so I thought, until I discovered that not only had the hulking excuse for a glacial moon maiden narrowly escaped being evacuated into the frigid depths of the negative zone, she was now also soaked in my urine.

This was clearly unacceptable to her, as was her method of survival, which amounted to nothing more than getting her grossly man-shaped head wedged between two pneumatic food tubes. With the room in total disarray, alarms going off full blast, and flashing red lights making the oxygen-starved survivors writhing around on the floor look like amateurs at an impromptu dance-off, I sprung into action.

Actually I just whimsically hopped up and down, giggling and pointing at the unfortunate frost spriggan as she wildly flailed about like a snake caught in a mousetrap, desperately trying to dislodge her unnaturally brawny man melon from between the automated sustenance chutes.

Given the grave situation unfolding all around me, it was probably inappropriate to start belly-laughing, but that’s precisely what I did. And then I let out another guffaw, much louder than the last one. And since nearly all the cafeteria decor and about half of the asylum’s residents had been forcibly ejected into the unforgiving hellscape of gamma quadrant, my hearty roar effortlessly reverberated through the room like a yodeler in an echo chamber.

Incredibly, my jolly vibes also liberated the living embodiment of gender ambiguity from the maw of the cylindrical grub dispensers. She wasted no time lunging at me again, this time like a meth-addled meteor.

And that’s when the margarine saved the day. Again. And also Leon, mild-mannered neutron engineer from Combustive Logistics (it’s supposed to be pronounced Léon, but haha fuck that, right?). Leon had just finished recovering from acute hypoxia, and was about to enthusiastically gasp for his first breath of repressurized air when he tripped over the fossilized slab of imitation butterfat and miraculously ended up right between me and the seething inbound manberg.

Or I used him as a shield.

Either way, Leon bravely accepted his fate, which was admittedly more extreme than I had anticipated. The conclusively mannish snow monster took a fatal bite out of Leon’s neck, which would have been awful had it not simultaneously silenced the only person who could accuse me of cowering behind him. Now, they say that it only takes a single bite from an Enceladan frost spriggan to become a frost spriggan yourself, but third person pronouns have been known to lie, and besides Leon exploded.

Yeah, it was pretty unexpected. Everyone left alive in the cafeteria was suddenly and unceremoniously bathed in a thick slurry of undigested spaghetti and cherry lifesavers. Right, I didn’t even fucking know we had lifesavers onboard until that very moment.

I tried to express my righteous indignation over this clear violation of workplace transparency, but everybody seemed more upset by Leon’s spriggan-induced detonation than the fact that Combustive Logistics had access to hard candy this whole time and was clearly holding out on us. But then I felt like a real big jerk for stealing Leon’s thunder, so I switched tactics and tried to be consoling instead. I reassured everyone that Leon was now a part of us all, quite literally as most of us had forcibly inhaled some of his internal organs. “And besides,” I said, soothingly, “at least his mom wasn’t here to see this.”

Somehow this made everyone even more upset, especially Leon’s mom, who had apparently been employed here for nearly ten years and was also standing right next to me. I’m sure she would have scolded me for being so ignorant, were she not frantically trying to extract one her son’s partially liquified ears from her blocked trachea.

I know, this is all a very crazy story. But it’s not always this amazing, not since Leon exploded. The bigwigs back on Earth initiated a whole series of yawn-worthy procedural changes and a complete overhaul of the asylum’s infrastructure. The only thing that wasn’t replaced was the faulty window, probably because I told everyone that the hunky frost goblin had punched it out on purpose. This resulted in her being punched out of the airlock on purpose, which honestly made the whole experience worth it. A real win-win.

As a precaution, frost spriggans are now totally banned from working at the asylum. But they aren’t complaining, mostly because their frozen homeworld was accidentally bitch-slapped out of orbit after someone snuck into Combustive Logistics looking for lifesavers and accidentally flipped the “go” switch on the neutron accelerator. All this in a vain attempt to locate even a single cherry lifesaver. Well I didn’t find any.


Frost spriggan plushy. Now available in the asylum gift shop.

Copyright © 2013 Eidologue Labs. Powered by Strontium 38.