7 Nights with Vroombi combines the horror of a haunted house with the mounting irritation of being a robot vacuum cleaner

That pentagram is going to leave a nasty stain

Many years ago, Suzy Eddie Izzard did a stand-up routine about different makes of vacuum cleaner, including the immortal "Hodededededer" of undecided linguistic origin. Izzard also enjoys sending up cheesy horror movies. Now that I've played 7 Nights with Vroombi, which launches today on Steam, I'd love to see Izzard do a sketch about a robot vacuum cleaner stuck in a haunted house. Because that is what 7 Nights with Vroombi is about.

Each night, you emerge from your nook to ingest a certain quantity of dust particles, while contending with eerie phenomena. The furniture is in the habit of moving around of its own accord. There is moaning behind some of the doors. The dust lies in peculiarly ornate patterns. Worst of all, perhaps, are the scribbled notes and doodles left out for you by a child, Lily. These range from tips about your scanner button to worrying asides like "You can't leave, can you, Mr Vroombi?" Right now, I'd say there's a 55% chance that Lily is actually Satan.

The demo gives me an entertaining combination of emotions. On the one hand, I am very small and flat, whereas the house is very big and shadowy. I do not have much of a turning circle, and certainly, no means of defending myself. The best I can do is slide under the sofa.

On the other hand, I am a robot vacuum cleaner. I am not alive. I am incapable of fear. Inasmuch I have psychic depths that might be preyed upon by some renegade spectre, they have to do with the necropolitics of petrochemical polymers, and the torrid social histories of the precious metals that make up my microchips and infrared sensors.

I guess I might accidentally contract second-hand psychological trauma from the human skin cells that make up a significant share of household dust, but I can always go and shit that stuff out at my dock. This child, Lily, is attempting to personify me, either out of malice or loneliness. She will fail, for there was no "me" to begin with. This entire conversation is a farce, maintained for the sake of grammatical convenience. How many haunted house movies starring robots have you watched, Lily? Exactly.

If "I" am capable of any emotion, it's irritation. As the nights go by, the dust patterns become more ornate, occult and suggestive. I'm sure it's harrowing stuff if you're some form of conscious, organic being. To me, the words "Let Me Out" are just a really aggravating series of 90-180 degree turns.

This is a shorter game – billed as a 45-75 minute single-sitting affair, which seems appropriate. On consideration, I feel like players may weary relatively quickly of being a Roomba. If Suzy Izzard ever does a Roomba sketch, I would encourage her to keep it fairly short.

That said, there are multiple endings to spur a bit of replay, which I imagine are tethered to certain optional objectives. Lily has left a bunch of marbles out for you to find, which is probably the core plank in my case that Lily is, in fact, Satan. I haven't collected any of those marbles because look here, Lily, that's going to jam my fans and short out the motor. Perhaps if you spent less time scribbling creepy notes you'd have read my warranty and realised that my manufacturer is not liable for repairs necessitated by deliberate user sabotage??