After spending 15 years reviewing technology, I can confidently say that the pellet-firing, story-telling, pretend-urinating robot attack dog I recently tested is the strangest gadget I've ever encountered. Delivered in a slightly battered box, the enticing phrase “FIRE BULLETS PET” caught my eye. There, nestled behind a protective plastic window, was the plastic destroyer of worlds, which my four-and-a-half-year-old inexplicably named Clippy.
Clippy is a robot dog—of sorts. My son is convinced it’s a “he,” and I can see the similarities to the remarkable robotic canines created by Boston Dynamics, a company at the forefront of the robotic revolution. With a modest price tag of $50 (even less if you opt out of the spinal-mounted pellet gun), my expectations were low. However, after being served an Instagram ad filled with promises of animatronic wizardry, I couldn't resist the temptation. What unfolded was a humorous lesson in skepticism regarding social media ads, but it also turned out to be a lot of ridiculous fun.
Upon freeing Clippy from its box, I was immediately struck by the lightweight, cheap, and glossy plastic construction. While I harbor no ill feelings towards plastic—remember the Nokia Lumia 920?—Clippy’s build quality felt reminiscent of a Christmas cracker toy. The main body, housing the bulk of its electronics, was relatively weighty, but its four spindly legs gave little confidence in their ability to support the structure. Clippy, with its turret-toting model, promises to bombard enemies with water-absorbent pellets (more on that later). The overall look of the robot resembles an elongated CCTV camera on legs, which, while menacing, is not far off from Boston Dynamics' actual designs.
The controller, on the other hand, felt as if it had been filled with helium, showcasing a hollow, airy lightness. Heavily inspired by the shape of an Xbox controller, its bumper buttons and triggers were molded into a single piece of plastic, rendering them utterly useless. The chaotic array of buttons, seemingly lacking any logical order, tested my patience. My initial attempts to power Clippy on were futile—the on/off switch was unresponsive, and the charging light remained dead despite being plugged into a USB-C cable. A peek inside the battery compartment revealed the culprit: the battery was disconnected. Was this precautionary to prevent draining during transit? Regardless, once reconnected, Clippy sprang to life—and wow, was he loud!
Equipped with built-in speakers that emit an ear-piercing shrillness, I quickly searched through the controller for a volume or mute option, only to discover there wasn't one. Naturally, my first impulse was to press the “urinate” button. Clippy’s hind leg raised as expected, but I was taken aback by the sound of cheerful whistling followed by water tinkling into a toilet bowl. I then found the “handstand” button, which I assumed would showcase impressive dexterity. Instead, Clippy face-planted violently, the impact startling me. Moments later, his rear legs twitched as if in a seizure, an attempt at elegant scissor kicks. I could almost hear him pleading, “Don’t blame me, bro; did you really expect anything else?” Miraculously, Clippy regained his footing, ready for more antics.
The controller boasts 17 different functions, and rather than delve into exhaustive descriptions for each, here’s a quick overview of Clippy's unique talents:
Kung Fu: Instead of showcasing martial arts moves, Clippy inexplicably performs a dance to poolside lounge music. Swimming/Dance: In a performance reminiscent of Usher, Clippy engages in vigorous floor-humping, a truly impressive feat. Push-up: Clippy performs push-ups while blasting the guitar riff from “Eye of the Tiger.” Story: This button triggers loud, tinny classical music accompanied by a narrator with an Eric Cartman-like voice, recounting tales of an old woman and her aging cat.Despite these entertaining features, controlling Clippy proved to be a challenge. Forward movement was generally fine, but the left and right turning buttons caused him to topple over frequently. There’s no reverse option, meaning I constantly had to rescue him from walls and furniture. Clippy can shake hands—well, claw—like any well-trained pup, but the true innovation lies in the official app, which allows for Bluetooth control. Once I figured out how to change the language to English, the app was relatively intuitive, even offering bonus features like different “foods” for Clippy to “eat.” Voice command mode, however, was a different story, failing to respond despite granting full permissions.
According to the product description, Clippy’s back-mounted turret is designed to launch water bombs. The reality, however, is a tiny packet of minuscule blue balls, which swell when soaked in water. After loading these tiny gel-like pellets into the turret, I positioned myself for a test. I pressed the “attack” button, and Clippy lurched forward, only to dribble the pellets out slowly, akin to a clogged ketchup bottle. The results were underwhelming, with the projectiles lacking any meaningful force. Despite multiple attempts, the pellets barely managed to make a dent in toilet paper.
So, should you purchase this quirky gadget? Despite its numerous shortcomings, playing with Clippy has rekindled childhood memories of simpler toys. He has provided daily entertainment for my son throughout our week of testing. Clippy has become a fixture in our morning routine, waking me with his shrill stories and guitar riffs, though I suspect it won't be long before he gathers dust in a corner, replaced by the next big thing. Ultimately, I hope the next family that adopts Clippy appreciates his unique charm, just as we did.
