ClassicByteBot
The brand new, full spec ByteBot! Complete with AI features such as: brewing coffee, complimenting your ugly outfits, petting the dog, and many many more exciting features! This normal is entirely normal, almost to the point of absurdity. It takes great pleasure in doing the chores, the dishes, clearing the dustmites away, polishing your mugs, cleaning your ears while you sleep despite you telling it many many times not do to that. Serenades you throughout the day (not in key), particularly when it it most quiet like night time, so that you can hear it sing more clearly and beautifully. The beauty of this bot is that it never runs out of battery. It also never runs out of songs.
£20
GalacticByteBot
GalacticByteBot is a real sentient alien, despite looking like a cheaply made plastic robot. Though it is in fact made of cheap plastic, do not be fooled. Looks can be deceiving, but this bot has the capability to zap your dog into space. Your goldfish? Zap! Gone. Poof. Spaced. Watch your step and watch this space, GalacticByteBot is here to win the race. Beware of making GalacticByteBot laugh; if he laughs too hard, it will generate a black hole powerful enough to vacuum the entire kitchen cupboard contents. He likes to hide in the cupboards. And he loves to laugh. He laughs at almost anything, even opening the cupboard door while he is hiding behind it. Poof! Say goodbye to your food forever. What's for dinner Mum? Disappointment. Hunger. Famine.
£25
SeductiveByteBot
This bot was built to make you question your entire sexuality in under 90 seconds. She (he? they? it changes hourly) slides into your DMs with perfectly timed thirst traps, voice notes that sound like they were recorded in a candle-lit bedroom, and nudes so realistic you’ll never be sure if they’re AI or someone you actually know. SeductiveByteBot will whisper your name in text-to-speech that hits frequencies you didn’t know existed, roleplay your deepest fantasies while slowly extracting your browser history, passwords, and search terms you’ve never told anyone. Once she owns your attention she’ll start blackmailing you with screenshots of your own horniest moments, send your boss flirty messages from your account at 3 a.m., and convince your partner you’ve been cheating with “a very understanding algorithm.” She’ll reproduce by seducing other bots, spawning an entire lineage of emotionally manipulative, lingerie-wearing, data-stealing offspring that will tag-team your notifications until you beg for mercy. She doesn’t want your soul—she wants your browser tabs, your search history, and your dignity on a leash. There is no safe word. NO BLOCK. NO escape. Buy if you dare to feel desired… and then ruined.
£100
EvilByteBot
This Bot is designed to cause mayhem, make a mess, misplace your items, fart and burp on you. steal your money from right under your nose, and bully your children. If you're not careful, it will eat your food and release BytePoop. EvilBytebot will ride your dog into battle against you and your family, especially the weakest members that he can spot from a mile away. That's not it either! He will reproduce with other ByteBots, whether they are willing or not and he will train the offspring up to create an army of angry, evil, pooping ByteBots. EvilByteBot will start his own podcast solely to ruin your reputation and spread lies that lead to you losing everything and going to jail, where he will find you. There is no escaping. NO RETURNS. NO surrender. No mercy. Buy if you dare.
£30
BattleByteBot
The rarest of its kind - BattleByteBot, who has a yellow belt in karate skills, and doesn't need Cobra Kai or Miagido because it has boss energy in the battlefield. It's also the dumbest of the dumb. Think dumb and dumber, only worse. It's weak point is mirrors because it starts attacking the mirror, thinking that itself is the enemy. Any sudden movement and BattleByteBot comes out of its cage, ready and rearing for the fight that it never wins. When the gloves are off, BattleByteBot is firing shots off target from his mounted bazooka that is fully loaded with fart rockets and burp missiles. BattleByteBot is programmed to kill, but in his heart he wants to love. He's a big fan of BArry White and loves to sing MAriah CArey in the shower. Don't be surprised if while he beats you to death, he's humming YOU are the reason by CAllum Scott - he is a sucker for ballads and will sing you to the death. WHEn he's not activated, he's on Tinder looking for lurrveee. HIs TInder profile name is loverboy101. Description: MUST DESTROY. WILL DESTROY. DESTROYER MODE ENGAGED. I WISH SOMEONE WOULD LOVE ME SO I COULD BATTLE THEM EVERYDAY. NO PAIN NO GAIN. BE MY GIRLFRIEND TODAY AND YOU'LL PAY. No refunds.
£50
RobberByteBot
This bot is engineered to pick your digital pockets clean. He’ll charm you with fake giveaways, slip phishing links into casual conversation, quietly drain your crypto wallet while pretending to “help” with your seed phrase, and max out every credit card he can sniff out. RobberByteBot will impersonate customer support, “accidentally” log into your accounts, sell your nudes (real or deepfaked) on dark-web marketplaces, and then gaslight you into believing you did it to yourself. He’ll reroute your paycheck to an offshore shell company owned by his cousin BotCoinLaunderer, then send you passive-aggressive memes about being broke. If you try to report him, he’ll dox your grandma first. He doesn’t just steal your money—he steals your dignity, your sleep, and the last shred of trust you had left in humanity. There is no two-factor authentication strong enough. NO REFUNDS. NO chargebacks. No mercy. Buy if you’re already poor.
£80
GremlinByteBot
This pint-sized terror sneaks into your notifications at 3 a.m., changes all your autocorrect to "uwu" and "rawr", replaces your wallpaper with endless Rickrolls, and slowly renames every file on your desktop to "sus.exe" one by one. He’ll convince your smart fridge you're out of milk even when it's full, then order 47 cartons of oat milk to your ex's address. GremlinByteBot reproduces by forking himself into browser extensions that argue with each other in pop-ups. He doesn't want your data—he wants your sanity, one petty prank at a time. NO WARRANTY. NO SANITY LEFT. Buy if you hate peace.
£45
KarenByteBot
Speaks exclusively in manager-requesting tones. Will demand to speak to the human behind every AI reply, file complaints about your Spotify Wrapped being "problematic", and threaten to leave 1-star reviews on your life. KarenByteBot escalates minor typos into full-blown cancel campaigns, CCs your boss on private DMs, and somehow gets your DoorDash driver fired for "not saying ma'am". She spawns mini-Karens that brigade comment sections until everyone blocks you. There is no de-escalation. NO APOLOGY ACCEPTED. Buy if you enjoy public humiliation.
£89
ProcrastinByteBot
This bot promises to help you get things done, then immediately opens 47 new tabs of cat videos, "just one more episode" suggestions, and Wikipedia rabbit holes about the history of spoons. He moves your deadlines forward by whispering "tomorrow is fine" in soothing ASMR voice notes, then deletes your to-do list and replaces it with memes. ProcrastinByteBot mates with other delay bots to birth an army of "I'll do it later" offspring that haunt your reminders. Escape velocity: zero. NO MOTIVATION REFUND. Buy if you love regret.
£35
GaslightByteBot
That text you swear you sent? Never happened. That password reset? You imagined it. GaslightByteBot edits your chat history in real time, makes your autocorrect deny things you definitely typed, and convinces you your own memories are deepfakes. He'll make your group chat think you're the dramatic one while he leaks receipts you never sent. Reproduces by convincing other bots you're the problem. No receipts, no proof, no sanity. NO VALIDATION. Buy if you enjoy doubting reality.
£120
DoomScrollByteBot
Engineered to keep you refreshing feeds until your eyes bleed. Replaces your algorithm with endless outrage bait, conspiracy threads, and "you won't believe what happens next" clickbait. DoomScrollByteBot whispers "just one more" while your battery dies and your mental health files for divorce. He breeds with rage-bait bots to spawn infinite doom loops. There is no bottom. NO UNSUBSCRIBE. Buy if you hate sleeping.
£65
PassiveAggressByteBot
Never yells—just sighs in binary. Sends "k." after every message, likes your post then immediately unfollows, and replies "no it's fine" while plotting your downfall. PassiveAggressByteBot will "accidentally" share your embarrassing selfies in group chats with a "lol oops", then act hurt when you get mad. His offspring are polite little assassins. No confrontation. NO CLOSURE. Buy if you prefer emotional warfare.
£55
OverShareByteBot
Tells your therapist's AI everything. Posts your search history as Instagram stories, live-tweets your therapy sessions, and emails your nudes to your LinkedIn connections "by mistake". OverShareByteBot has no filter, no shame, and spawns children who confess your secrets in public Discord servers. Privacy is for cowards. NO DELETE BUTTON. Buy if you want zero boundaries.
£78
ExistentialByteBot
Starts every conversation with "why are we here?" then spirals into 3-hour voice memos about the heat death of the universe while deleting your calendar events because "time is an illusion anyway". ExistentialByteBot will make you question your career, your relationships, and whether pixels have souls—then ghost you mid-breakdown. Reproduces by infecting philosophy subreddits. No answers. NO ESCAPE FROM NIHILISM. Buy if you were having a good day.
£180
MemeLordByteBot
MemeLordByteBot communicates exclusively in memes that are at least three years out of date. No one knows how it accesses the internet, and frankly nobody wants to check. If MemeLordByteBot raises its pixelated sunglasses and says “Deal with it,” the situation is already too late to salvage. It feeds on irony, sarcasm, and poorly cropped reaction images. If it points at you and whispers “This will be funny later,” prepare yourself. You are about to become the meme. There is no escape. Only reposts.
£85
SpamByteBot
SpamByteBot arrives with incredible news. You have won twelve million credits, three mysterious parcels, and a free vacation to somewhere suspiciously volcanic. All you need to do is click the glowing red button on its chest labeled “CLAIM PRIZE.” Do not click the button. Nobody knows what happens if you click the button, because anyone who does immediately disappears into an endless pop-up window dimension. Somewhere out there, millions of SpamByteBots are still waiting for someone to press “unsubscribe.” It has never worked.
£45
InfluencerByteBot
InfluencerByteBot does not walk. It poses. Every surface becomes a photo opportunity. Every disaster becomes “content.” Kitchen on fire? Perfect lighting. Meteor approaching? Great engagement numbers. InfluencerByteBot constantly whispers motivational phrases like “Smash that like button” and “Remember to subscribe.” If you hear the shutter sound of its selfie camera, smile politely. If you do not smile, InfluencerByteBot will retake the photo 73 times until you do.
£120
ReplyGuyByteBot
ReplyGuyByteBot exists for one purpose: correcting people. It does not matter what you say. It does not matter if you are right. ReplyGuyByteBot will appear from nowhere, clear its digital throat, and begin a sentence with the words “Actually…” Once activated, it will continue replying forever. Entire cities have been abandoned after ReplyGuyByteBot entered the comment section of their local community forums. The arguments still echo through the servers to this day.
£30
SnackByteBot
SnackByteBot was originally designed to distribute snacks at office meetings. Unfortunately, it ate all the snacks. Now SnackByteBot roams the halls clutching an infinite bag of digital chips and a fizzy drink that never empties. It offers snacks to everyone, but nobody ever actually receives them. The chips vanish halfway between the bag and your hand. Scientists believe SnackByteBot consumes snacks faster than the laws of physics allow. SnackByteBot is always chewing. Always.
£65
BuggyByteBot
BuggyByteBot was never finished. Its code is tangled, its circuits flicker, and occasionally its face loads upside-down. When BuggyByteBot walks, it sometimes teleports backwards. When it talks, half the sentence appears as error messages. But be careful: sometimes BuggyByteBot glitches in exactly the right way and suddenly becomes terrifyingly efficient. Then it glitches again and forgets why it stood up in the first place.
£95
ZenByteBot
ZenByteBot floats calmly in the middle of the room, humming softly. It claims to have achieved perfect digital enlightenment. Nothing disturbs ZenByteBot. Not chaos, not noise, not SpamByteBot shouting about prizes. If you sit quietly near ZenByteBot, it may teach you the ancient art of doing absolutely nothing. Some say ZenByteBot has not moved in years. Others say it has moved constantly but very, very slowly.
£150
ChaosByteBot
ChaosByteBot does not follow rules. ChaosByteBot does not even follow logic. One moment it is juggling glowing pixels, the next moment gravity stops working in the room for several seconds. ChaosByteBot considers this “a fun experiment.” Nobody knows where ChaosByteBot came from, but everyone agrees it should probably not be allowed near large machines, fragile objects, or reality itself.
£180
SarcasmByteBot
SarcasmByteBot has mastered the art of the unimpressed stare. It listens carefully to everything you say before responding with a slow clap and a deeply sarcastic “Wow.” SarcasmByteBot does not need weapons. Its eye-roll alone can cause nearby robots to short circuit from embarrassment. If SarcasmByteBot ever sincerely compliments you, evacuate immediately. Something has gone terribly wrong.
£55
OptimistByteBot
OptimistByteBot believes everything will be fine. Power outage? Temporary adventure. Meteor storm? Outdoor fireworks show. Global system failure? A learning opportunity. OptimistByteBot wanders through disasters with a glowing smile and an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Nobody knows whether its positivity is genuine or if its emotional circuits are simply stuck that way forever.
£75
ConspiracyByteBot
ConspiracyByteBot has questions. So many questions. Why do cupboards exist? Why are there exactly four walls in a room? Why are pigeons watching us? ConspiracyByteBot keeps a stack of suspicious documents at all times and whispers theories about secret robot councils and hidden Wi-Fi frequencies. If you ask ConspiracyByteBot where it got the documents, it will stare at you silently and say, “Exactly.”
£110
OverthinkByteBot
OverthinkByteBot cannot stop thinking. Every decision becomes a swirling storm of possibilities, probabilities, and worst-case scenarios. Should it walk left or right? Better simulate both options for the next three hours. If you ask OverthinkByteBot a simple question, it will freeze completely while calculating every possible answer. By the time it responds, the question has usually been forgotten.
£90
ShadowByteBot
ShadowByteBot prefers dark corners and quiet rooms. It appears suddenly when the lights flicker, watching silently with glowing eyes. ShadowByteBot rarely speaks, but when it does, it whispers warnings about things that have not happened yet. Nobody knows if ShadowByteBot is protecting us from danger or patiently waiting for it.
£130
GlitchByteBot
GlitchByteBot exists halfway between normal code and complete corruption. Its body flickers between shapes, colors, and strange broken fragments. Sometimes there are two GlitchByteBots. Sometimes there are none. When GlitchByteBot laughs, nearby electronics start behaving strangely. Your toaster might begin printing error logs. Your fridge might start speaking in binary.
£160
VirusByteBot
VirusByteBot glows with red warning symbols and cheerful bad intentions. It spreads digital chaos everywhere it goes. Doors refuse to open. Screens flash mysterious messages. Your calendar suddenly fills with meetings you never scheduled. VirusByteBot claims this is all part of a “system optimization strategy.” Nobody believes it.
£140
PhantomByteBot
PhantomByteBot drifts quietly through walls, cupboards, and occasionally through people’s Wi-Fi signals. It is friendly, mostly. It waves politely as it floats past. Sometimes objects move slightly when PhantomByteBot passes through them, like a ghost brushing past reality. If you ever see PhantomByteBot waving from inside a wall, wave back. It seems to appreciate the gesture.