Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with what appears to be a gauntlet for a small, clumsy giant. They call it a "Ninja Battle Morpher," which is a needlessly complicated name for a plastic noisemaker. It's designed for them to flail about, pretending to be some sort of colorful hero. From my superior vantage point on the back of the sofa, I see its true potential lies in the "automatic pop-up sword"—a sudden, flicking motion that could, *in theory*, provide a moment of decent pouncing practice. The various "Ninja Stars" and their accompanying cacophony of sounds, however, seem like a transparent ploy to sell more plastic trinkets and drain the household toy budget. This device teeters on the brink between a moderately interesting moving target and a very loud, very annoying paperweight.
Key Features
- Replace with new batteries upon initial use for best product performance
- Unleash the power of the Ninja Stars with the Power Rangers DX Ninja Battle Morpher; Morpher and Battle Gear in one.
- This Morpher has hidden weapons for three unique modes: sword mode, claw mode and morpher mode – it's three epic battle gear items in one; features automatic pop-up sword.
- Connect any of the Ninja Stars to the Morpher to activate unique sound effects; the DX Ninja Battle Morpher comes with 2 Ninja Stars.
- Additional Ninja Stars are included in many items across the Power Rangers Ninja Steel toy line (sold separately) and are cross‑compatible with Ninja Steel Role Play toys (sold separately).
- 100+ Ninja Stars available throughout the year; collect them all to unlock every feature and find your power; requires 3 LR44 batteries (included).
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The artifact appeared after one of the human’s mysterious supply runs. It lay on the rug like a fallen piece of a spaceship, all aggressive angles and loud, offensive colors. I observed it from a safe distance, tail twitching in a slow, metronomic rhythm of disapproval. It smelled of industry and desperation. The human, whom I shall refer to as The Technician for this particular folly, picked it up, strapping the plastic monstrosity to her hand. She was clearly under its control. She then produced a small, shuriken-like disk and slotted it into the device's core. A dreadful series of electronic whoops and a tinny voice shouting "Ninja Spin!" assaulted my delicate ears. I flattened them against my skull, unimpressed. This was not play; this was noise pollution. The Technician tried again, inserting a different disk. More noise. I began to groom my pristine white bib, signaling my profound boredom and signaling that this line of inquiry was a dead end. This was a failure, another piece of junk destined for the closet of forgotten things. But then, The Technician fumbled. Her finger, clumsy as ever, slipped and pressed a button on the side of the gauntlet. *FWIP-CLICK*. A blade, a glorious, two-pronged plastic blade, shot out from the device with surprising speed. My grooming ceased mid-lick. My eyes, which had been narrowed in disdain, widened into green orbs of pure focus. The world fell away. The annoying sounds, the foolish human, the very concept of time—all vanished. There was only the sudden, violent eruption of movement. The Technician, sensing my shift in demeanor, retracted the blade and deployed it again. *FWIP-CLICK*. I crouched low, my body a coiled spring of gray fur. She did it a third time. *FWIP-…* before the click could even register, I launched myself. I did not attack the human, of course; I am a gentleman. But my paw, a blur of white and gray, met the emerging blade with a perfectly timed, surgically precise *thwack*. It was a beautiful intercept. The case was closed. This "Morpher" was an auditory nightmare, but its pop-up mechanism, its one redeeming quality, was a masterpiece of interactive art. It had earned its stay. For now.
