Mr. Riptin

Scald came by my office today, with a most peculiar discovery in tow: A clockwork quite unlike anything I had ever seen. Scald informed me that it had been found wandering the Gut, and was in dire need of repairs. From what I could see, it was as if its creator had built a plush toy exterior over a mechanical frame, with the appearance of a Moreau. Certain phrases appeared to trigger specifically made recordings and actions it had stored. For instance, saying “mess” shifted it towards cleaning the grass with a broom it didn’t possess. Saying “dance” did exactly what one would expect, however in its state of disrepair, it could not do it particularly well. Asking where it was from launched some manner of advertisement.
I began to see Scald’s point. Despite being endowed with a wind-up key, it did not appear to actually perform any role in its function. Obstruction of the key during my examinations and the later incident (which will be addressed further on in this report) did not have any visible effect upon it.
In one of its recordings it identified itself as Mr. Riptin… a creation of “Mr. Aldous.” My mind immediately was drawn to a connection with my grandfather, Aldous Clowes, but I did not want to believe it. How could this be?
Beryl and several others came by, intrigued by this mysterious machine. Upon observation of those it was unfamiliar with, it played a particular tune. What purpose this serves is unknown. When asking Beryl if he had heard of an Aldous separate to my own, the machine responded in a manner departed from its established norm; It addressed me directly, and it became clear that this truly is a remnant invention of my grandfather. My grandfather, who had spent his final years grooming me towards becoming like him, had evidently programmed this machine to hunt me down and find me if things did not go as he had planned. Seemingly knowing I had rejected my grandfather’s legacy, it presented me with another chance. Rejection of it prompted an aggressive response.
It leaped for me, and with its surprising strength, not only hefted me off the ground, but also managed to crush my revolver with little effort. Beryl and Scald attempted to delay and assault it. This turned its attention from me, and it engaged the only observable weaponry it possesses. Its claws can become electrified, it would appear, much like my own “Chessbot” design. Far from the defective machine it presented itself as, it fought with surprising resilience, considering its evident age. 
Eventually we managed to pin it down, and I moved to disable it. It appeared I had succeeded for a while, but it seemingly is outfitted with many redundant, auxiliary components, and soon enough managed to restore its mobility. It seems absurd that it would manage to have such complex engineering packed into its tiny frame, but this is the only explanation that comes to mind. It then vanished without a trace. After this Beryl, Scald and I had a conversation I’d prefer not to disclose the details of, at least not yet, before going our separate ways. Mr. Riptin has not been sighted since.