Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with what appears to be a large, oddly-shaped piece of black plastic and a tiny, jointed humanoid figure. They refer to it as a "Batwing" and a "Batman," some sort of "Limited Edition" nonsense that seems to mean "do not touch under penalty of being shooed away." From my superior vantage point, I can deduce this is not a toy for a creature of my refined sensibilities. It makes no noise, it does not move on its own, and it most certainly does not contain catnip. The only mildly intriguing feature is the small figure's "cloth cape," which might offer a moment's diversion if it were dangling precariously from a high shelf. Ultimately, this seems like another dust-gathering ornament for my human to coo over, a complete waste of perfectly good napping space.
Key Features
- LIMITED EDITION BATWING AND BATMAN: Commemorate Batman’s 85th Anniversary with the limited-edition Batwing and 4-inch Batman action figure Highly detailed and fully articulated Batman toy collectible
- AUTHENTIC THEATRICAL STYLING: Featuring Batman action figure from Batman Returns and his iconic Batwing vehicle as seen in the iconic 1989 Batman film. This articulated action figure is highly detailed with a cloth cape and true theatrical styling
- EASY TO POSE: Featuring 11 points of articulation, kids can easily pose this Batman action figure in various dynamic stances for imagination, creative play, and storytelling
- COLLECT THEM ALL: Build your Batman Collection with the Batman’s 85th Anniversary with this special edition of the Batwing and Batman Returns – Batman Figure
- PERFECT HOLIDAY GIFTS FOR KIDS: Inspire creativity and imagination with Batman toy figures & playsets Ideal for children who love Dark Knight superhero toys, Batman Car Toys - fosters pretend play and storytelling Ideal for Christmas, birthdays, and holiday surprises
- Includes: 1 Figure, 1 Batwing
- Covered by the Spin Master Care Commitment. See below for full details
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The day it arrived was, at first, promising. A large cardboard box appeared in the living room—a fortress of solitude, a den of possibilities. I was performing my standard structural integrity tests with my claws when my human, with an unbecoming sense of urgency, seized it. From the box, they carefully extracted the contents with the reverence usually reserved for a fresh tin of tuna. First came the great black bird-thing, all sharp angles and matte finish. It smelled sterile, of the factory and disappointment. I gave it a cursory sniff and turned my attention to the second object. It was a miniature man, clad in black armor, with a perpetually grim expression. He was stiff, unyielding, and his tiny cloth cape felt disappointingly synthetic against my whiskers. My human began posing him, bending his little limbs into what they called "dynamic stances." The tiny man just stood there, a silent sentinel of plastic. I watched, unimpressed, from the arm of the sofa. This was not play. This was a strange, silent ritual. I crept closer, and with a delicate, calculated tap of my paw, sent the little man toppling over. A satisfying clatter. This, I decided, was his primary function. My human, however, did not agree. "Pete, no! It's a collectible!" they cried, retrieving the fallen hero and placing him and his oversized glider onto the highest shelf in the room, a veritable Mount Olympus of forbidden treasures. There they sit now, the man staring out into the room, his capelet unstirred by any breeze. The humans see a tribute to some cinematic memory. I see something else entirely. I see a challenge. A test of gravity. A future project for a quiet Tuesday afternoon when no one is watching. It is not a toy to be chased, but an objective to be achieved. In that regard, and that regard only, it has earned my long-term, strategic interest. The game is afoot.
