Thank you all for coming today. We had originally scheduled this press conference as part of our monthly update concerning the Galactex Organization’s artificial intelligence program, i-Rene—a sophisticated robot that represents the great strides that our program has made. However, recently we have become the subject of a persistent, ugly rumor that, by now, I am certain you have all heard.
Let me dispel that rumor, once and for all, right now: We are not fucking the robot.
Have I made myself clear? We, the robotics team at Galactex, are not fucking the robot. In fact, we categorically deny fucking any robot. To repeat: the Galactex robotics team is not having sexual relations with i-Rene, or any other robots. At Galactex, we create robots; we do not fuck them.
i-Rene is designed to serve the healthcare, customer service, and therapy industries so the technology needs to be as human-like as possible. i-Rene is capable of nearly 1000 unique facial expressions exhibiting a range of emotions from extreme pleasure to excruciating pain mingled with just a hint—just a hint—of ecstasy. This is to mimic the complex facial expressions of a typical human in any given moment, and certainly not to mirror the responses of a human during intercourse, so let’s just get our minds out of the gutter, right now, okay?
Again, let me repeat: we are not fucking the robot. No robots are being fucked—at least not by the Galactex robotics team. What you people do in your own personal lives, that’s your business.
We have developed a silicone foam that is so close to human flesh it could fool a dermatologist. Coupled with a sensitive thermostat and an internal heating system too complex for anyone outside of the robotics industry to even understand—an industry that does not fuck its products, so if you want that kind of smut, go read sci-fi erotica, you know, if that kind of thing even exists. We’re certainly not reading it at Galactex or writing fan fiction online about Star Trek’s 7-9, so don’t even bother searching for it.
So, yes, while we have made i-Rene to feel human to the touch—to the naked flesh, if one was so inclined to press himself against i-Rene, say late at night in the lab, when everyone else has gone home, hypothetically, of course—we did not design i-Rene to be a sex toy for lonely robotics engineers, ostracized by society because of their superior intellects and cursed with wan, almost-translucent skin from lack of sunlight and too many hours in the lab. Questions?
“Why does it have breasts?” Uh, women have breasts, okay? i-Rene is obviously female, duh! I mean we named her i-Rene.
“Why the DD-sized breasts?” Listen, Braniac. i-Rene is powered by a very sophisticated algorithm. I could explain it to you, but why bother? She doesn’t need you jerks with your societal pressures about a woman’s appearance making her feel bad about herself. We gave her big tits to boost her confidence—and that’s the only reason, bub. Next.
“Why does she look like a circa-1994 Pamela Anderson?” Seriously? I didn’t even notice the resemblance until now. So what? There’s only so many faces in the world. She was bound to look like someone. Deal with it.
Oh, boy. Here’s the 800-pound gorilla in the room. I was just waiting for one of you deprived miscreants to bring it up. “Why the need to give her anatomically correct genitalia, including a fully formed vagina, complete with labia, clitoris, and pubic hair?” What did you do, look under her dress, scum bag? She’s a woman. Were you not here a minute ago when I made that clear? Maybe you need to go back to biology class, wise guy.
Oh, just because she’s got meticulously groomed privates, automatically that means we’re passing her around the lab like some kind of fuck-thing? Would you even know how to flush out an orifice after a lab full of sex-starved robotics engineers had their way with a sexy robot? Do you? A mixture of vinegar and water? Bleach, maybe? Ha! Do you even know what that stuff could do to the wiring and intricate workings of such advanced technology? This isn’t some blowup doll that you can fuck, deflate, and hide between your mattress so your mother doesn’t find it when she’s cleaning your room, even though you’re 37, and god damn it, can’t a grown man with two PhDs expect just a little fucking privacy?
We have time for one more question. “If we had no intention of fucking the robot, then why didn’t we just make him male?” We don’t swing that way, fella. Capisce? At Galactex, we support diversity and inclusion, so don’t go making something out of that. On the robotics team, we’re all 100% heterosexual—not that we’re fucking the robot, because we’re not—but, let’s just say, we have a healthy appreciation for the female form, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my work, and by work, I mean important science stuff and not—
You know what? I don’t owe you assholes an explanation. This press conference is over.