Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in his infinite and baffling wisdom, has acquired what appear to be two miniature, muscle-bound dolls. He calls them "G.I. Joe Classified Series" figures, which I can only assume is a fancy term for "dust collectors." They are Sgt. Slaughter, a man whose chin could serve as a formidable doorstop, and some other fellow named Mercer. The appeal for my staff seems to be their "poseability" and "premium detailing," which means he will spend hours arranging them into heroic stances that I will later have to correct with a well-placed nudge. For me, the true value lies not in the plastic men themselves, but in the promised "26 accessories." These tiny, eminently losable plastic morsels are the real prize—perfect for batting under the heaviest furniture and ensuring my human gets his daily exercise on his hands and knees. The figures are a distraction; the tiny bits are the main event.
Key Features
- YO JOE! G.I. JOE EXPLODES INTO A LARGER-THAN-LIFE ERA WITH 6 INCH ACTION FIGURES: The G.I. Joe Classified Series evolves the retro toy figures fans know and love into a highly articulated 6-inch (150 mm) scale with premium deco and detailing
- CLASSIC SGT SLAUGHTER & FELIX "MERCER" STRATTON-INSPIRED DESIGN: Features a classic design updated to bring the G.I. Joe Drill Sergeant and Renegade from G.I. Joe: The Movie into the modern era and 26 accessory pieces inspired by the characters' rich history
- HIGHLY POSEABLE WITH PREMIUM DETAILING: G.I. Joe Classified Series Sgt Slaughter & Felix "Mercer" Stratton action figure set features exceptional detailing and articulation for cool poseability to create dazzling dioramas (some poses may require additional support)
- COLLECTIBLE WINDOWED PACKAGING: #173 in the Classified Series sequence. The open-box display showcases the figure along with accessory loadout, figure-specific File Card Icons, gorgeous original character artwork, and dynamic digital renders
- KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE: Look for other G.I. Joe figures and toys to build your roster of heroes and Cobra villains to recreate your favorite scenes from G.I. Joe: The Movie (Each sold separately. Subject to availability.)
- A PERFECT PRESENT: This Sgt Slaughter & Felix "Mercer" Stratton figure makes a great gift for lifelong fans of G.I. Joe toys or for boys and girls who love action and adventure
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The coffee table had become a stage for a silent, ridiculous play. My human, with the focused intensity of a surgeon, had positioned the two plastic soldiers in a diorama of utter stillness. The large one, the one with the ludicrous jawline and sunglasses he wore *indoors*, was posed as if shouting unheard orders. The other, the "Renegade," knelt beside him, aiming a tiny black rifle at an imaginary foe that was likely a dust bunny I'd been cultivating near the bookcase. They were frozen, monuments to my human's peculiar sense of drama. I watched from my throne on the arm of the sofa, my tail giving a slow, critical twitch. It was all so… static. So unnatural. Once the human left the room, presumably to fetch a beverage to celebrate his artistic achievement, I glided from my perch. The silence of my paws on the hardwood floor was absolute. This was not a mission of destruction, but of artistic improvement. I approached the table and peered at the scene. The sheer quantity of tiny, unattended equipment was an affront to the laws of entropy. A canteen, a knife, a sidearm—all sitting there, just *being*. It wouldn't do. My initial target was Mercer’s rifle. It was the centerpiece of his pose, the source of his plastic purpose. With the delicate precision only a cat can possess, I extended a single claw from my soft, gray paw. I didn't swat. I *plinked*. I hooked the very tip of the barrel and gave a gentle, calculated tug. The rifle popped from the figure’s grasp and skittered across the polished wood of the table, coming to rest near the edge. The scene was instantly more dynamic, telling a new story: one of disarmament, of vulnerability. It was better. But the shouting man, Sgt. Slaughter, still stood, his authority now baseless without his armed companion. He offended my sense of quietude. I placed my nose against his plastic boot and pushed. He was surprisingly stable. This was a challenge of physics, not just aesthetics. I backed up, gathered my haunches, and gave him a solid, tuxedo-chested shove. He tipped, wobbled for a dramatic moment, and then fell with a satisfying *clack*, knocking over his compatriot in a domino effect of failure. The tiny accessories scattered. Now *this* was a diorama. A scene of chaos, of consequence, of reality. The figures themselves were merely clumsy gravity-testing devices, but their potential to distribute their delightful clutter across my domain? Unmatched. This product, I decided, was worthy. Very worthy indeed.
