Pete's Expert Summary
My Human has acquired yet another small, plastic effigy, this one a particularly spiky-haired specimen with an overwrought sense of fashion. It is, I deduce, a "Uchiha Sasuke" action figure from a company called Bandai, a brand known for these sorts of dust-collecting trinkets. It purports to have over twenty points of articulation, which is a significant upgrade from the usual static statues that offer no sport. It also comes with tiny, interchangeable hands and other bits, which are almost certainly destined to be lost under the furniture. While the figure itself lacks the fundamental appeal of, say, a freshly laundered wool blanket, its bendable limbs and the high probability of its small accessories skittering wonderfully across the hardwood floor present a flicker of potential in an otherwise dull afternoon.
Key Features
- Bandai's Anime Heroes figure line now lets you step into the anime world of Naruto. This Sasuke Uchiha Rinnegan / Mangekyo Sharingan version figure captures the cold and determined demeanor of Sasuke with one of his most powerful attacks
- Comes in premium packaging that is influenced by Japanese manga and art
- The detailed and amazingly decorated 6.5-inch scale figure allows you to recreate Sasuke's iconic moments with over 20+ points of articulation. This figure is perfect for play and display!
- Each Anime Heroes figure comes with an additional 2 sets of switchable hands and character-specific accessories
- Fans can look for more Anime Heroes Naruto series figures from Bandai (Each figure sold separately)
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The crime scene, as I found it, was a study in Human carelessness. A cardboard prison, emblazoned with strange symbols and a glaring portrait of the suspect, lay discarded. Inside, the culprit himself stood on the coffee table, all sharp angles and a purple tunic that was, frankly, a bit much. He stared into the middle distance with an air of profound melodrama I usually reserve for when my food bowl is only 90% full. But the most disturbing evidence was laid out beside him: two small, clear packets containing a collection of disembodied hands. A truly grisly display. I approached with caution, my tail giving a low, inquisitive flick. This little man was an enigma. He didn't smell of prey, nor did he possess the enticing rustle of a paper bag. He simply stood there, a silent challenge. I gave him a tentative nudge with my nose. He wobbled but, to his credit, remained upright. Impressive balance. I saw him not as a toy, but as a new student in my School of Advanced Gravitational Studies. His first lesson was about to begin. I raised a paw, extending a single, perfectly manicured claw, and gently tapped his spiky head. He toppled with a surprisingly complex motion. Instead of a stiff clatter, his articulated limbs gave way, and he collapsed into a posture of defeat that was deeply, artistically satisfying. His arm bent behind his back, a leg akimbo. This was no mere trinket; this was a partner in physical comedy. I nudged him again, watching his joints flex and hold a new, undignified pose. But my attention soon shifted to the packets of hands. I hooked a claw under one and sent it skittering. It slid beautifully, a tiny plastic puck of pure, unadulterated chaos. The figure could stay. He was a decent, if silent, sparring partner. But his tiny, lose-able hands? They were a masterpiece. Case closed.