While walking through City Place, a large shopping center in West Palm, Florida, with my girlfriend, we decided to go into a store called Anthropologie. Now, if you’ve never been to West Palm, the city is primarily made up of rich older men who have married women who are as young as the law allows them to be for that sort of union. West Palm is one city planner being asked “So, what do you think we should do with this city?” and responding by handing in a copy of The Stepford Wives. I know that love is blind, but apparently love has lost all of its other senses too when it inhabits West Palm, because 90% of the people walking down the street were girls who looked fresh out of college, and men trudging beside them who seem to have some sort of specified memory loss in their old age that makes them forget what sit ups are.

But none of that matters.

I did some research (one Google click), and I discovered that Anthropologie is primarily for women. But that still doesn’t excuse if from being a store that carries things that are so useless that they loop back around into being useful, before becoming useless again. Double useless. I know that it’s stereotypically male of me to see a store that has women’s items in it and hiss and recoil at it, but I need you to understand that Anthropologie does not just carry things that women may need, or hell, even remotely want. Most of that store is made up of props from a future episode of Hoarders. If you ever decide to fill your house with the kind of knick knacks that will discourage your children from ever choosing to invite friends over, shop at Anthropologie.

As my girlfriend looked around, I became enamored with a little, colorful cardboard package with the words CUBEBOT on it. Now, I know enough about syllables to separate them when it’s important to, so I figured out what a CUBEBOT is with relative ease.


Part 1: Cube

It’s shaped like a cube.

Part 2: Bot


The pictures on the box let me know that, (High five, my brain!), I was right. CUBEBOT was indeed a tiny wooden robot that unfolded from a cube to fill your life with a new joy that you’d never felt in your pre-CUBEBOT era.


And then I saw the words AREAWARE, and things took a turn.

AREAWARE is the company that makes CUBEBOT, I’m assuming. But due to my expert knowledge on the intricacies of the English language, I was able to unscramble the sinister puzzle that the makers of CUBEBOT had hidden in plain sight.

Pull it apart.




Oh god.



One response to “Fear CUBEBOT

  1. Not just West Palm, Daniel. In all of South Florida can one embarrass oneself (if one is the sort to feel embarrassed by this) by complimenting a grandfather and his granddaughter on his adorable newborn great-grandchild only to have him turn away in disgust at your abominable faux pas.

    But your comments about Anthropologie? Hmphh. Here on the west coast, they stock beautiful and beautifully-made all-cotton clothes. Terribly, terribly pricey all-cotton clothes. I love Anthropologie, for without them, the thrift stores in the pricier neighborhoods would never get the garments I seek.

    Yes, it is true that my clothes may thus be a season behind. But it matters not. For I, sir–I am timeless.

    And yup–that robot is cr#p.

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