Pete's Expert Summary
Hmph. My human has brought another plastic totem into my domain, this one a "Marvel Legends" creation called Cyclops. From what I can gather through my superior intellect and a glance at the packaging, it's a small, jointed doll for adult humans who refuse to grow up. It stands a mere six inches tall, clad in a rather loud blue and yellow uniform, and is clearly intended to be stared at on a shelf rather than properly played with. While its "20 points of articulation" might provide a satisfyingly floppy resistance to a well-aimed paw, the main figure is a bore. However, the tiny, detachable accessories—an extra head and hands, and especially that little "blast FX"—are another matter entirely. They are perfectly sized morsels for batting under the heaviest, most unreachable furniture. A mixed bag, but the potential for causing minor, long-term chaos for the human is intriguing.
Key Features
- COMICS-INSPIRED CYCLOPS: Collectible Cyclops figure is inspired by the character's appearance in Marvel's X-Men comics
- PREMIUM DESIGN AND DECO: Fans and collectors can display premium figures with comics-inspired design and deco in their collection
- MARVEL COMICS-INSPIRED ACCESSORIES: Officially licensed Hasbro Marvel Legends set comes with 5 accessories, including alternate head, hands, and blast FX
- INCLUDES BUILD-A-FIGURE PART (MARVEL'S NEMESIS): Comes with Build-A-Figure arm piece. Collect other X-Men figures to assemble figure (Each sold separately. Subject to availability)
- 6-INCH SCALE ACTION FIGURES: Featuring a window box package, fans and collectors can display this premium figure designed at the Marvel 6 inch action figure scale (15 cm)
- DISPLAY-WORTHY ARTICULATION: Collectible action figure features over 20 points of articulation with fully poseable head, arms, and legs for dynamic poses on your shelf
- X-FACTOR CYCLOPS: A leader of the X-Men, Cyclops becomes a founder of a new team called X-Factor after being reunited with Jean Grey
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The ceremony began, as it always does, with the tearing of a cardboard box. My human, with the focused reverence of a high priest, unveiled his new idol. It was a man, frozen in plastic, with a face locked in a grimace of mild inconvenience. The human positioned him on the "Shelf of Dust," a high place reserved for his motionless plastic congregation. I observed from my throne on the velvet ottoman, utterly unimpressed. Another sentinel to stand guard over nothing. I had half a mind to turn my back on the whole affair, to show my profound disdain with a flick of my tail, when I saw it. He called it the "optic blast." It was a piece of angular, translucent red plastic, shaped like a captured lightning bolt. He clipped it onto the figure's face, emanating from its visor. The afternoon sun caught it, and the little piece of plastic seemed to ignite, casting a ruby-red glow on the wall behind it. It was a fragment of pure, captured light. It was beautiful. It was everything a superior being like myself deserved to possess. The static doll was irrelevant, a mere pedestal for this exquisite gem. I formulated my plan in the silent, calculating way that only a feline can. My human would eventually grow bored of his new acquisition, leaving it to its dusty fate. My opportunity would come when the house fell into its nightly slumber. I waited, a gray shadow coiled in the dark, my eyes fixed on that sliver of crimson. The hours ticked by, marked only by the hum of the refrigerator and the human's rhythmic, noisy breathing from the other room. This was not a hunt for sustenance, but for artistry. A heist for a thing of pure, useless beauty. Under the sliver of moonlight filtering through the blinds, I made my move. A leap from ottoman to bookshelf, silent as a thought. I landed beside the plastic army, a phantom among them. I nudged the Cyclops figure with my nose. It teetered, but I was not there for such brutish destruction. My target was specific. With the surgical precision of a single, extended claw, I hooked the edge of the red "blast." It popped free with a soft *click*. I caught it in my mouth before it could fall. The human can keep his garish doll. I have stolen its fire, its very essence. It now resides in my hoard beneath the sofa, a perfect, silent treasure to be admired only by me. It is, I must admit, a high-quality piece of loot.
