An idle game where the AI does the working and you do the idling
The great occupational hazard of AI coding: your agent is busy, and you're just… supervising. Gulugulu fixes the supervising. A tiny transparent pet lives in the corner of your desktop and spectates your pair-programming: when the AI thinks, it poses dramatically; when the AI errors, it sighs before you do; every token your agent burns becomes duck food. The money was spent either way — at least now it feeds something.
Reacts live to your local Claude Code / Codex sessions: thinking, coding, failing — full theater
Keyboard charging (Windows): typing restores its stamina. It counts keystrokes only — never reads them
Polite: it wanders away from your active window. Your IDE stays unblocked
Can you play without any AI? Yes — and it won't lecture you
Absolutely — and nothing will open with "As a large language model" to talk down to you. The actual game (click to work, stack coins, buy and hatch eggs, collect all 63 species, expand the backyard) needs zero AI: no internet, no API key, no CLI installed — the whole thing runs offline. Adding Claude Code / Codex is just extra seasoning: the duck reacts to your sessions and can hallucinate limited-edition species on the spot. Skip it, and it's a perfectly good ordinary duck in the corner of your screen — sleeping, begging for snacks, same as always. The AI is its side gig, not its landlord.
It learned everything wrong with AI, on purpose
Unearned confidence. Compulsive apologizing. Working very hard in exactly the wrong direction. The duck has mastered all three virtues of the modern language model — except when it's hungry, it says so, which already makes it more honest than your agent. Run its stamina dry and it flops over mid-sentence: "You're absolutely right! …zzz" — like a model hitting its context limit.
Clicking: the last honest job
The AI's tokens feed the duck XP; typing and idle time refill its stamina; you do the clicking. Click to work, earn coins, level up — combos pop, coins fly, zero thinking required. Thinking is the part you outsourced, remember? Spend it all in the backyard: buy eggs, hatch them (they keep incubating while the app is closed), expand the yard, hoard more little guys.
The Fusion Lab: hallucinations, but productive
63 hand-designed species across 6 elements and 6 tiers, waiting to be collected. Fuse two max-level pets into something higher — and if you're lucky, your own local Claude Code / Codex CLI gets summoned to design a brand-new, one-of-a-kind creature on the spot. No API key, no cloud — just the CLI you're already logged into. Elsewhere, an AI hallucination costs you three hours of debugging. Here, it hands you a limited-edition pet. You do the math.
Workshop: your AI's taste, everyone's problem
For every AI-designed species, the first player in the world to roll it shares that creature's look with everyone via Steam Workshop. That gloriously cursed little guy in someone else's Pokédex? Signed by your AI. Is it beautiful? You're absolutely right.
Steam Inventory & Trading
Your creatures are real Steam inventory items: tradable and marketable (active once the game releases). No custom servers, no accounts — your save lives on your own machine.
Pet quotes (a sample)
[quote]"As a large language model, I can't do your job. But I can watch you do it."[/quote]
[quote]"You're absolutely right! (falls asleep)"[/quote]
[quote]"I apologize for the confusion. The confusion was mine. The snacks are also mine."[/quote]
[quote]"Deep thought complete (8 seconds): it's lunchtime."[/quote]
[quote]"Bug detected. Suggested fix: feed duck, then debug."[/quote]
Privacy: it counts your keys, never reads them
Keyboard charging counts keystrokes per second; the characters become a 250 ms keycap animation and are gone. Nothing logged, nothing stored, nothing uploaded. Whether your code is any good stays between you and your AI — and the AI's lips are sealed (or it just forgot).
