Pete's Expert Summary
So, the human has acquired another set of plastic effigies, ostensibly for their own amusement. This 'McFarlane' brand seems to specialize in creating highly detailed shelf-warmers. We have two brightly colored bipeds, rendered in what the human calls 'seven-inch scale,' which I call 'perfectly sized for toppling.' While the main figures are preposterously static, destined to gather dust until I require a new gravity-testing subject, the true value lies in the accessories. The collection of tiny, detachable hands and that delightful little green slug... now *those* have potential. They are small, eminently losable, and promise a thrilling game of 'Where did Pete hide the superhero's fist?' The rest seems like a colossal waste of resources that could have been spent on premium tuna.
Key Features
- McFarlane Gold Label Amazon Exclusive
- Incredibly detailed 7” scale figures based on the DC MULTIVERSE
- Designed with Ultra Articulation with up to 22 moving parts for full range of posing and play
- SHAZAM & FREDDY as featured in the theatrical film SHAZAM: FURY OF THE GODS
- Accessories include 6 interchangeable hands, wizard's staff, Mr. Mind slug and environmental base
- Includes 2 collectible art cards with character art on the front and character biography on the back
- Collect all McFARLANE TOYS DC MULTIVERSE figures
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The familiar ritual began with the tearing of cardboard, a sound that rarely heralds anything of actual importance to me. My human, however, was making those cooing noises usually reserved for when I perform a particularly elegant stretch. Out of the packaging came two garish figures, one red, one blue, their plastic faces frozen in expressions of mild consternation. They were placed on the coffee table, a temporary throne before their inevitable ascension to a high shelf. I observed this ceremony from my post on the sofa arm, tail twitching in mild irritation. More clutter. My human then produced a small, clear baggie filled with what appeared to be spare parts. My interest, previously hovering near absolute zero, flickered. Tiny hands. A long, thin stick. And something else. Something small, green, and wonderfully slug-like. My hunter's brain, usually occupied with tracking dust bunnies and monitoring the food bowl's status, whirred to life. While the two large lummoxes were posturing, the true prize was this perfect, bite-sized villain. The human, a fool in all matters of tactical importance, carefully arranged the scene: the two heroes stood tall, staff in hand, with the little green slug placed defiantly at their feet. The human then made the classic, unforgivable error: they left the room to "get a drink." The fools. I didn't stir immediately. A professional waits for the right moment. The house settled into silence, punctuated only by the hum of the refrigerator. With the fluid grace that defines my species, I flowed from the sofa to the floor, then onto the coffee table. I padded silently past the blue figure, ignoring its articulated limbs. I sidled around the imposing red one, whose cape was, I admit, of a decent quality for batting. But my eyes were on the prize. With a single, surgical tap of my paw, the little green slug, this "Mr. Mind," was sent skittering across the polished wood of the table and onto the rug below. A perfect extraction. I hopped down, nudged my prize with my nose, and picked it up gently in my mouth. It had a satisfyingly smooth, plastic texture. The large, noisy heroes could keep their perch and their dramatic poses. They were merely the display case. I, Pete, had liberated the only part of the ensemble with any real playability. I trotted off towards the dark space beneath the entertainment center, my trophy secure, leaving the so-called "Fury of the Gods" to guard an empty spot on the battlefield. A most worthy acquisition, indeed.
