Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe my sophisticated intellect can be entertained by a large, plastic man-doll in a garish red and blue onesie. They call it "Spider-Man." It is, apparently, a "Titan Hero," though its heroism seems to consist entirely of standing still and looking vaguely athletic. I am told it has the potential to make noises and fire projectiles, a feature that might briefly pique my interest, but only if the launcher accessory were actually included. It is not. Therefore, this is less a toy and more of an inert, oversized chew-target. Its primary value might be in its impressive size, which could make for a satisfyingly loud *thud* when knocked from a high shelf, but as a source of interactive entertainment, it is a monument to my human's poor purchasing decisions.
Key Features
- 12-Inch scale Spider-Man figure – Imagine Peter Parker suiting up as the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man with this 12-inch-scale Spider-Man figure, inspired by the classic character design from the Marvel Comics.
- Talking Super hero action figure – connect projectile launcher (not included. Sold separately with Titan hero blast figures.) to port on Spider-Man action figure’s back to activate sounds & phrases inspired by the Spider-Man Movie and fire projectiles!
- Spider-Man movie-inspired design – fans can imagine the web-slinging and wall-crawling Spidey adventures with this Spider-Man figure, inspired by the character from the Marvel comic books.
- Compatible with titan hero blast gear launcher (not included. Sold separately with Titan hero blast figures.) – connect to Titan hero series and Titan hero blast gear figures (each sold separately) for sound effects.
- Look for other Spidey Super hero toys - be on the lookout for other Spider-Man figures and gear to imagine the web-slinger swinging into action! Additional products each sold separately. Subject to availability.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The operation began at 14:00 hours, during the peak of the afternoon sunbeam offensive. The package was airdropped onto the living room floor with a distinct lack of subtlety. I maintained my cover, feigning sleep from my observation post on the velvet armchair, one eye cracked open. The Human, designated "The Feeder," extracted the target: codename "Web-Head." A twelve-inch operative, rigid and unblinking, reeking of factory neutrality. An obvious plant by an unknown agency, likely the squirrels. My mission: interrogation and neutralization. I initiated a slow, deliberate approach, my gray tuxedo fur gliding silently over the rug. Web-Head stood his ground, a fool's bravado. I circled him, taking in his tactical details. His limbs were jointed, but stiff. A potential weakness. On his back, I noted a peculiar port—The Feeder had pointed it out, babbling about "sounds" and "launchers," none of which were present. This confirmed my suspicion: the operative was unarmed, his primary weapon system stripped. He was a scout, sent in with minimal gear to test my defenses. Pathetic. My first strike was a test of his reflexes. A swift, unsheathed pat to his plastic shin. He wobbled but did not fall. His balance was better than expected. I changed tactics, shifting from physical intimidation to psychological warfare. I sat directly in front of him, perfectly still, and began a deep, resonant purr. It is a technique known to disarm even the most stoic of delivery drivers. He remained silent, his painted-on eyes staring into nothingness. He was well-trained, I'll give him that. A true professional. But every agent has a breaking point. I delivered the final, decisive blow by rubbing my face vigorously against his leg, marking him as my territory, my asset. He now belongs to me. He is no longer Web-Head, the enemy operative. He is now "The Watcher," a silent, brightly-colored hostage I have strategically placed beside my food bowl. He stands guard, a constant, plastic reminder to The Feeder of who is truly in charge of this domain. His silence is his confession. His immobility is his surrender. Mission accomplished.
