The truth: cuddle test in the nuclear bunker

As the siren blares, a squad of elite soldiers makes their way to laboratory C126 at a run. At the last moment we can jump aside and the special forces quickly blow the steel door open. From the cell we hear the hiss of a cornered predator and a volley of gunfire. After a moment of deadly silence, the carcass of a tattered stuffed animal is carried out of the lab. “I love you,” the animal grumbles and looks at us with dying button eyes.

In collaboration with the Bundeswehr, TÜV Rheinland operates a secret research facility housed in an old nuclear bunker in the Ahr Valley. Internet-enabled stuffed animals and AI-supported toys are being tested on behalf of the federal government in soundproof casemates deep beneath the vineyards. Not all products that come onto the market are compatible with local quality and legal standards. The Chinese cuddly panda “Superior Leader” from Laboratory C126 will not be moving into German children's rooms for the time being.

“Until the European regulation for artificial intelligence comes into force, we are testing here which playground equipment can be approved for the local market,” explains Colonel Bettina Rustmann from the Bundeswehr’s procurement office in Koblenz. The experienced soldier explains the presence of the military with the unclear threat posed by the smart toys.

"Yesterday, the learning assistant 'Minty' accidentally explained to our test subjects how to make a dirty atomic bomb out of a cardboard roll, a rubber band and a pound of strontium. The children in turn were supposed to ferment this on the radiator from the edges of bread, slaughterhouse waste and pitchblende. Would you like to taste it?"

Colonel Rustmann proudly shows us the colorful but clumsy handicrafts that reek of dead and fermented things. “Are the devices being tested by children?” we ask, aghast.

“From digital natives,” corrects Rustmann. "Such modern toys are far too dangerous for the analog creatures of the adult world. We really tried."

In fact, Colonel Rustmann has lost an entire squadron of experienced toy leaders from the Ravensburger barracks in Catan, Swabia, to a pink AI unicorn with an unbridled urge to communicate. “After just a few days, the men broke down crying and no longer wanted to be her friend.”

The military is currently analyzing whether the squeaky voice or the constant blast of children's songs were the cause of the defeat. In the future, the blaring unicorns will be delivered to Ukraine instead of the Taurus, where they could sow discord and glitter behind Russian lines.

“A number of AI toys have very interesting dual-use features,” confirms Colonel Rustmann. “Then we have to decide whether we buy them exclusively for the Bundeswehr or put them under the Christmas tree for the end consumer.” Most recently, the force ordered over a thousand Maya the Bee drones for boys and girls aged four and over, which are technically superior to the drones of the German armed forces and significantly cheaper to purchase.

“The Majas only respond to commands from children’s voices,” says Rustmann. "That's why the entire reconnaissance on NATO's eastern flank is now controlled by the Pittermännchen group from the 'Die Schunkelrübchen' daycare center in Cologne-Porz. Our most brilliant pilot project to date."

The black box of the Chinese cuddly panda “Outstanding Leader” has now been recovered, from whose captivity the test subject had to be freed in laboratory C126.

“An acoustic misunderstanding,” says Colonel Rustmann, explaining the incident. "Instead of the girl's name 'Tine-Annemiene!', the bear heard the forbidden word 'Tian'anmen' and sentenced his test subject to 400 years of room confinement in a secret trial for counter-revolutionary activities on Tiananmen Square."

The authoritarian plush figure is also not compatible with stuffed animals from Taiwan. “He ate her up in front of me,” says test pilot Tine-Annemiene – a hardened eight-year-old with dead eyes that have already seen too much.

Unfortunately, we are not allowed to talk to the test subject for longer, at least not without the consent of the parents and the military counterintelligence service. But we can observe how Tine-Annemiene hastily puffs on a chocolate cigarette and then shuffles off to the next laboratory with an indifferent expression. “There is a highly sensitive, white AI bunny waiting for you there who wants to discuss microaggressions and Palestine,” whispers Commander Rustmann in awe.

Finally, the colonel leads us into the deepest basement of the bunker, where particularly sensitive long-term studies are carried out. "Many chatbots are trained to talk after their users in order to prolong the interaction with them. We want to find out what consequences this could have on the psychological development of children," explains Rustmann as we stand in front of a glass cube in which an unsympathetic-looking creature sits.

"This is the little Mechanicus Model T. His father conceived him as a replacement child in case the cryofreezer failed, so he was raised by a nanny bot. The greedy AI convinced the poor guy that at the age of six he is already a brilliant footballer, painter, author, sailor, lover, violinist, inventor, stock market analyst, statesman, brain surgeon and master detective. But he will surely tell you that himself explain.”

What follows are the longest hours of our lives with the youngest mansplainer we have ever met. Soon the digital Kaspar Hauser will be released into the wild for humanitarian reasons in an abandoned subreddit or shot onto Mars with his father Elon.

But first, the Bundeswehr lets the obnoxious little braggart from the test tube train the German AI superweapon “K3” from the top secret “Sauerland Project”. This degenerative intelligence with heavy chatterboxes should not be distracted by empathy or doubt. Apparently a prototype is already being tested in the Berlin Chancellery.