Pete's Expert Summary
My human, following some unfathomable logic that governs their species, has acquired a miniature shrine to those noisy, yellow people on the television. It’s a plastic representation of their living room, complete with tiny, unsatisfyingly-small furniture and a statue of the bald, rotund one. From a tactical standpoint, the various small accessories—a lamp, a side table—present a tempting opportunity for being batted under the *real* couch, where they will be lost forever. However, the primary feature seems to be its existence as an object for humans to arrange and stare at, an activity that directly competes with the far more important task of petting me. It’s an elaborate, officially licensed monument to wasting time, and while its potential for creating minor, chaotic messes is noted, it seems largely beneath my consideration.
Key Features
- OFFICIALLY LICENSED: The Simpsons Living Room Diorama captures the detail of the Simpsons House and living room inspired by the iconic animated series
- LIVING ROOM: Featuring the iconic living room on one side and the front side of the house on the other. Compatible with all 2.5” scale figures and accessories
- POSE AND PLAY: Offers multiple fun and interactive features like the button activated couch or interactive rug allowing fans to recreate classic scenes and moments from the show
- INCLUDED ACCESSORIES: This diorama playset comes with a variety of accessories, including one 2.5” scale Homer Simpson figure, one lenticular TV, one couch, one standing lamp, and one side table, allowing fans to recreate the iconic living room setting. Bart, March, Lisa, Maggie, Santa’s Little Helper, and Snowball figures sold separately
- COLLECT THEM ALL: Collect the full range of toys and collectibles inspired by The Simpsons with this Living Room Diorama from JAKKS Pacific
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived in a cardboard box of exquisite quality, which I immediately claimed. The plastic contents, however, were placed on the low table in the center of my sunning room. I observed from a distance at first, feigning disinterest as The Staff assembled the scene. A garish orange couch, a lamp, a flickering picture box, and him. The yellow man. He stood there, a permanent, plastic effigy of inaction, right in the middle of a prime napping zone. This was an incursion. I leaped onto the table with silent, practiced grace. My nose twitched, detecting only the sterile scent of polymer and human fingerprints. I circled the diorama, my tail giving a slow, deliberate sweep that narrowly missed the tiny standing lamp. I came face-to-face with the figure. "So," I began, my voice a low purr that was ninety percent threat. "You're the new art installation." The figure, Homer, said nothing. His painted-on eyes stared past me, toward the real television. A grave insult. My investigation continued. I nudged the tiny lenticular TV with my nose. The image shifted from a static test pattern to some kind of clown. Pointless. I then noticed the main couch. The Staff had demonstrated its "special feature" by pressing a hidden button, causing the cushions to buck slightly. A crude, primitive mechanism. I looked at the silent, yellow statue, then back at the couch. An idea, cold and brilliant, formed in my mind. With a deliberate paw, I tipped the Homer figure over, laying him prostrate upon the miniature sofa. Then, using my most precise claw, I depressed the hidden button. *Click-thump.* The figure jolted, a pathetic little hop. I did it again. *Click-thump.* He was a prisoner, subject to my every whim, a silent participant in a drama of my own making. He offered no resistance, no sport, no satisfying crunch. After a few more ceremonial catapultings, I grew bored. This wasn't a toy; it was a stage for my own quiet contempt. I gave the figure one final flick, sending it skittering off the couch and onto the floor. He wasn't worthy of my attention, but his tiny, easily-lost side table certainly was. I hooked it with a claw and trotted off to my lair under the bed, the first trophy of a very short, very one-sided war.
