Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to have acquired yet another plastic effigy for his shelf of dust-gatherers. This one, from a brand called McFarlane Toys that specializes in such things, is a seven-inch statue of a rabbit. Not just any rabbit, mind you, but a "Captain" in a ridiculous costume. Its primary features of note are its supposed "Ultra Articulation," which to me just means more limbs to dangle enticingly before I am shooed away, and a paint that glows in the dark. While the accompanying box is almost certainly of superior construction and ideal for a brief sit, the figure itself seems destined for a life of static observation. Its only real potential for amusement lies in its eerie nocturnal glow, which might provide a decent target for a midnight pounce, should I feel particularly generous with my energy.
Key Features
- Captain Carrot is featured in Glow in the dark paint deco and include 4 extra hands
- Featured in an exclusive designer box
- Incredibly detailed 7” scale figure based on the DC MULTIVERSE
- Designed with Ultra Articulation with up to 22 moving parts for full range of posing and play
- Includes figure base, authenticated art card and an art card display base
- Collect all McFARLANE TOYS DC MULTIVERSE figures
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The witching hour. That sacred time when the lumbering bipeds are deep in their slumber-caves and the entire house becomes my kingdom. I was conducting my usual perimeter check—sniffing the draft under the door, glaring at the moon through the window, ensuring all was as it should be—when I saw it. A faint, sickly green aura emanated from the Shelf of Forbidden Idols. It was a light I had not cataloged. It wasn't the rhythmic pulse of a charging device or the cold blue of a modem. This was a steady, ghostly luminescence, shaping a form I did not recognize. A lesser creature might have fled. I, however, am Pete. I narrowed my eyes, flattened my body against the cool wood floor, and began my stalk. My approach was a masterclass in stealth, a flow of gray and white shadow across the living room. The glow grew stronger, defining the silhouette of the intruder. It had a head, two arms, two legs, and... ears. Impossibly long ears. A spirit? A demon summoned by my human's terrible taste in television? I gathered my haunches, preparing to launch myself and greet this specter with the fury of all my ancestors. I would not allow my domain to be haunted by some glowing ghoul. The house was already occupied, thank you very much. With a final, silent step, I leaped onto the arm of the sofa, granting me a clear vantage point. And there it was. The ghost. The demon. The source of the supernatural light was... a toy. A garishly dressed rabbit, hands on its hips, frozen in a pose of utter buffoonery. The eerie glow I had stalked with such primal focus was nothing more than cheap phosphorescent paint. My coiled tension didn't just release; it evaporated into a cloud of profound disappointment and secondhand embarrassment. All that build-up, all that magnificent predatory instinct, squandered on a piece of plastic. I stared at the glowing rabbit, and it stared back with its blank, painted-on eyes. I could have swatted it from its perch. A single, elegant flick of the paw would have sent it crashing into the abyss of the floor below. But I didn't. An idea, far more amusing, took root. This ridiculous, glowing totem would not be my victim. It would be my accomplice. Every night, when the shadows grew long, it would be there, my silent, illuminated herald. I'd sit before it, as if receiving a mission briefing from the world's dumbest general. It was a pathetic toy, yes, but it was *my* pathetic toy to lord over. It was unworthy of being my prey, but it would do just fine as the first subject of my nightly reign.
