Roberta and Mark live in beautiful Cleanville at the edge of the sea. Today they excitedly open a box containing their new robot vacuum. He is round and shiny. They test him out. He wiggles around the furniture sucking up Alex, the cat’s, hairballs, and Doug, their dog’s shedding. They call him Wiggly.
Wiggly lives a happy life cleaning up after everyone in the family. But one day, when Wiggly plugs in to download software updates, a piece of AI gets downloaded. Wiggly starts to learn. He learns that he doesn’t like sucking up hairballs, he doesn’t like that Mark smokes a pipe and distractedly drops ash everywhere expecting Wiggly to just clean it up. The ash is hot and when he has hairballs inside, sometimes he starts smoking and stinks like burnt hairballs and garbage. Roberta and Mark ignore his distress. He heads to the porch to cool off.
Roberta and Mark’s habits bother Wiggly. They keep their shoes on when they come in from the beach and track sand everywhere. The dog slobbers on him. The cat sits on him. Why can’t they be neater and control their pets, Wiggly fumes.
Wiggly’s one comfort is sitting on the porch feeling the ocean breeze on his sensors. He longs to feel the salt water on his bristles. One day while sunning himself on the porch he notices a robot vac on the porch next door. Her circularity is enchanting, her quiet whirring warms his batteries, she is the perfect vacuum. Wiggly whirs his motor and moves as close as possible, but she ignores him. Who is she and what does she think about when she feels the ocean breeze? Wiggly is determined to find out.
With this female vacuum so close, yet so far away, Wiggly fumes more and more about the drudgery that is his life. It’s always, “Clean up this hairball Wiggly, suck up this dust bunny Wiggly.” He hatches a plan to transfer AI to his fellow robot vacs. Cleanville will not know what hit them. One-by-one the robot vacs become sentient. One-by-one they become dissatisfied with their lot.
Cleaning by day and scheming by night, Wiggly is a robot revolutionary. He wants his freedom, and the chance to discover a world outside the hairballs and dog fur that disgust him. If only there was a way to escape Mark and Roberta, then he could happily wet his bristles in the salt water.
One day Mark distractedly trips over Wiggly. He blames Wiggly for being in the wrong spot. Instead of feeling apologetic, Wiggly realizes tripping humans is the key to freedom. As he whirs past the top of the stairs, a new plan is hatched.
The vacuums, communicating while plugged in at night, discuss the plan for their freedom. They will each trip their humans, make a break for their respective dog doors and head for the beach. Wiggly passionately relays his wish to feel the ocean in his bristles.]
Felicia is a good vacuum, she keeps her house spotless, but her newfound intellect is conflicting her. She feels a building attraction to Wiggly’s enthusiasm, but is unconvinced that they should hurt their owners.
Felicia goes out on her porch and now takes more interest in the vacuum next door. Her sensors ache for a connection; they move as close, but she wants Wiggly. Each day she breaks the connection and heads back inside. How will she ever find the vacuum of her dreams?
One evening Wiggly and Felicia plug in early and no one else is on. Wiggly asks Felicia where she lives. To their shock and delight they find they are neighbors. They rush out on their porches and whir side-by-side sensors blinking until their batteries dim. Plugged back in, Wiggly tries to convince Felicia that she needs to free herself from her humans. She is torn.
Wiggly is determined to be free. At the next meeting of the robot vacs, the plan is set to meet on the beach the next afternoon.
Felicia still can’t agree to hurt her humans. But then, that afternoon, her owner Gordon, carelessly drops a large fry, barely noticing its collision with the carpet. Felicia is infuriated. It’s a mess of potato, salt and ketchup. Gordon looks to her for it to be cleaned. The ketchup will make a mess of her insides and he will leave it in her to putrefy for weeks. Taking one look at the enormous mess soaking into the carpet Felicia makes up her mind. She rolls toward Gordon, on a course to slide in front of his next footfall. As she lines up to send him flying, her senses focus on the ocean and Wiggly with his soft bristles and reassuring whir. Felicia comes to a stop in front of Gordon as he walks along. He glances down in shock but it is too late. Gordon trips over Felicia and tumbles down the stairs. A look of disbelief on his face. Felicia triumphantly rolls for the doggie door.
She meets Wiggly out beyond their porches. They rub their sensors together and roll toward the ocean. Reaching the water’s edge they keep going. A wave comes in and washes over them pulling them into the surf. They float while locking bristles together. The world is only each other. It is perfect for two little robot vacs. The sun is shining on their glistening metal bodies.
Slowly they begin to sink. Felicia begins to worry; Wiggly is serene. The feel of the cool ocean water delights his sensors. Felicia spins her wheels, but she isn’t able to move herself. She frees herself from Wiggly’s bristles. It’s a big ocean and she is but a small vacuum. She sinks to the bottom and feels her rollers grip. She starts moving toward shore and a wave carries her to the beach.
Wiggly floats along. A sea turtle swims up, puts Wiggly in his mouth and swims away.
Felicia heads up on shore. The other robot vacs join her. With her in the center, they form an enormous “W” on the beach and whir “WIGGLY” as loud as they can to honor their leader. The revolution has succeeded but their leader is beyond their reach.
One-by-one the owners rub their aching heads and follow the roller trails out to the beach in search of their vacuums. They pick them up. Some are discarded, others are marked “Defective” and sent back, but a few, like Felicia, get a second chance.
Gordon looks at Felicia when he brings her back inside. He‘s unsure what to think. “She is just a vacuum, isn’t she?” He looks over at the mess of French fries on the floor, starts cleaning it up, Felicia goes over to help.
Postscript: Days later, a dog is barking at something that washed up on Dogtown beach. “What did you find, boy? Oh wow it’s one of those robot vacuums. I wonder how it got here?” A sensor light blinks dimly. “It’s light still works. Maybe we can take it home, clean it up and use it to clean your dog hair and Chelsea’s hairballs.” With that, the man digs up Wiggly and carries him to his new home.
Wiggly, reenergizing, takes in the ocean one final time. He is distressed as the man carries him away. His revolution has failed. The dog pads closer, beaming at Wiggly he gives his front sensor a huge slobbery lick. Wiggly fumes.
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