The robot is cute and little girls love it. They go heart-shaped over it, over him, thanks to a crack team of designers and engineers. He has plastic eyes that sparkled, almost teary, never mind that he's got the emotional range of your common sociopath. The button nose in particular tested well. Little girls demand their mummies and daddies purchase the robot for them, slotting cards into vending machines and waiting for the coiled metal arms to discharge one of the robots from within the vacuum-sealed womb.
"Hi," says the robot as he stands in front of a little girl on the plaza, her father hopping from foot to foot a comfortable meter away so that his little baby can meet her robot. He's jacked up on coffee and wishing his ex-wife would show up already to take the kid and her weird bastard machine off his hands. He has things to do. He's got a date tonight. Family time's great and he loves his little girl but he's allowed to have his own life, right? Right. "Hi," says the robot to the little girl and he leans forward, plastic joints clicking arthritically as he goes, to hug her. The little girl giggles, as one does when one is hugged manically by a robot that feels like plastic wrapped around gelatin, wobbling as it goes, with the click-click-click of a mouth opening and shutting. She hugs the robot back, arms around that detailed spine.
"Oh, daddy! I love him!"
"Great, honey." Her father checks his phone again, no calls and his ex-wife is a full half-hour late. She'll bitch about having to deal with the robot, which probably has exhaustive cleaning procedures attached to it -- the booklet remains sealed in an envelope on the back of the robot's head -- but she's going to have to deal with it, because it was the only way to keep Pumpkin quiet while they wait.
"I love you too," says the robot and for the first time her father actually turns his head to look -- there's something about that tone of voice, perfectly pristine and modulated and good lord, it's still hugging her and...and... "I'm hungry," the robot says.
"Pumpkin!"
You have to understand, dozens of engineers have worked long hours to ensure the speed and dexterity of the robot, because coordinated movement that look natural is important for creating that meaningful bond between robot and child. Pumpkin's father has no hope of stopping it, even from this close, because Pumpkin doesn't fight. She's struck by the hug-euphoria and the drugs secreted through special fingertip pores. She's giggling still, and he lunges for them as the robot opens up as a mouth, hidden seam opening, as one whole mouth, and take her into himself -- itself! -- and begins to digest. It will be able to make another of itself in under five minutes, it will bud off quite easily, and they will have the father's credit cards within seven minutes.
The vending machine will be empty within fifteen minutes.