Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a flat, red rectangle called an "Etch A Sketch." It appears to be a primitive visual stimulation device for small, clumsy bipeds. It has two white knobs, which might be mildly entertaining to swat if I'm feeling generous, and a grey screen where they can scratch out their crude approximations of... well, probably me. The most interesting feature seems to be the "shake to erase" function, which sounds like it could produce a rather satisfying rattling sound, though the actual drawing part seems like a complete waste of my energy. It requires no batteries, which is a small mercy, but I suspect its primary function will be to occupy a space on the floor that would be better suited for my afternoon sunbeam nap.
Key Features
- MAGIC SCREEN: It’s fun and easy to create with Etch A Sketch Classic! As you turn the knobs to draw, lines magically appear on the grey screen. Turn the left knob to draw left and right; the right knob to draw up and down; and turn both knobs to curve!
- SHAKE TO ERASE: When you’re finished a drawing and ready to start another, just shake to erase and start all over! With the Etch A Sketch Classic, you can be endlessly creative!
- CLASSIC DRAWING TOY: For over 60 years, children and adults of all ages have been experiencing the magic of Etch A Sketch! The world’s favorite drawing toy makes it fun and easy to create over and over again.
- Etch A Sketch Classic is a mechanical drawing toy for ages 3 and up. No batteries required. Draw and shake to erase with the world’s favorite drawing toy!
- Includes: 1 Etch A Sketch Classic
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The Provider of Sustenance and Head Scratches sat on the floor, hunched over this garish red tablet. A strange, soft grinding sound filled the air, like a mouse trying to chew through a wall from very far away. My ears swiveled. My tail gave a curious twitch. She was making... lines. Jagged, unnatural lines on the dull gray surface. I crept closer, my paws silent on the rug, to investigate this new and frankly, unimpressive, offering. She cooed my name, "Oh, Petey, look! It's you!" I peered at the screen. What I saw was an abomination. A collection of stairs and right angles that vaguely resembled a box with two triangles on top. This was supposed to be *me*? Me, with my exquisitely soft fur, my elegant curves, my perfectly symmetrical tuxedo markings? This... this *block cat* was an insult to my very being. The sheer audacity. I let out a low growl, a rumble of pure, aristocratic indignation. The human, oblivious to my artistic critique, set the device down and went to fetch her strange smelling bean-water. This was my chance. I approached the red monstrosity. The two white knobs seemed to be the controls. I batted at the right one. The 'head' of my so-called portrait grew a long, vertical scar. Better. I nudged the left knob with my nose. A horizontal line shot out from its 'tail'. An improvement, I suppose, but the core insult remained. The blocky caricature stared back, mocking me from its gray prison. There was only one way to deal with such a profound artistic failure. Subtlety was no longer an option. I backed up, took a small running start, and gave the red frame a firm shove with my head. It tumbled off the edge of the ottoman, landing on the plush rug with a tremendous, satisfying *SHHHHHHHHHHHK-rattle-rattle*. I peered over the edge. The screen was blank. The gray void had mercifully swallowed the geometric horror. I looked up as my human returned. She sighed. I simply began to clean a paw, the picture of innocence. The toy was not for drawing; it was for erasing. And in that, it had finally proven its worth.