Pete's Expert Summary
My Human has acquired another one of those "build-it-yourself" kits from a brand called "MEGA," a desperate attempt to occupy their clumsy, opposable thumbs. This one involves assembling a small blue turtle and a brown, skull-wearing creature from a pile of 45 plastic bits, then imprisoning them in spherical containers. From my superior vantage point on the sofa arm, I see the potential. The finished products are likely to be static, uninteresting shelf-warmers, far too blocky for a satisfying chew. The true value, of course, lies in the construction phase: a veritable treasure trove of tiny, lightweight plastic pieces perfect for batting under the heaviest, most inaccessible furniture. The process is the prize; the product is irrelevant.
Key Features
- Poke Ball set with 2 buildable Pokemon and 2 Poke Balls
- Features buildable Squirtle and Cubone
- Pieces combine with all Pokemon building sets by MEGA and are compatible with other name brands
- Ideal for ages 7 and up, these building toys help develop creativity and problem-solving skills
- Officially licensed by The Pokemon Company International
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The ceremony began on the floor, a space I generally reserve for sunbeams and dramatic stretches. My Human, hunched over in a posture of intense concentration, spilled the colorful plastic entrails from a bag. They weren't shaking my treat bag. They weren't preparing my dinner. This was something else entirely, some primitive human ritual. I observed from a safe distance, my tail a slowly waving question mark. They muttered to themselves, consulting a sheet of pictograms like some low-rent shaman, and began clicking the pieces together. Slowly, a strange blue homunculus took shape, its eyes vacant, its limbs rigid. Once the blue idol was complete, they began work on its companion, a grim little beast with a bone helmet. It was clear what was happening. My Human was creating golem-servants. I’d seen such things in the moving pictures on the glowing wall-square. They were building a tiny, silent army. For what purpose? To challenge my rule? To enforce a stricter feeding schedule? I narrowed my eyes, the white fur of my chest puffed out in quiet defiance. When both were assembled and placed beside their strange, spherical temples, my Human stood up, proud of their work, and left the room, oblivious to the silent coup they had just staged. I leaped silently onto the coffee table, a gray shadow inspecting the new regime. The blue one wobbled when I nudged it with my nose. Pathetic. The skull-wearer was equally unimpressive. They were nothing. But then I saw it. Tucked behind one of the plastic spheres was a single, forgotten piece—a tiny, brown, t-shaped block that the shaman had missed. An oversight. A flaw in their creation. I hooked it with a single claw, flicked it off the table, and watched it skitter across the hardwood floor. The chase was on. Let the golems stand guard over their empty temples; I had found the true prize. The rebellion could wait.
