Pete's Expert Summary
My human has once again mistaken their own amusement for mine, unfurling this... this glorified mousepad onto the Great Wooden Plateau where dinner is sometimes served. They call it a "playmat," intended for some ritual involving stiff paper rectangles and imaginary creatures. I see it for what it truly is: a premium, low-profile napping surface, conveniently pre-decorated with what appears to be a gothically-inclined human and a plump, electric hamster. The rubberized backing promises it won't slip away during a particularly vigorous session of biscuit-making, and its sheer audacity in occupying prime territory is an invitation for conquest. Its potential as a strategic napping spot is high, though I suspect I will have to periodically clear it of the human's distracting cardboard clutter.
Key Features
- card gaming play mat
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The unveiling was accompanied by the usual cooing noises my human reserves for new acquisitions. A tube was opened, and with a soft *fffrrrpp*, the mat unrolled itself, releasing a scent of fresh factory rubber and untapped potential. From my vantage point on the armchair, I observed. It lay flat, a rectangle of darkness and startling pink, dominated by the unamused face of a dark-haired girl and her rodent-like companion, who seemed to be vibrating with some sort of latent energy. The human began placing their shiny cards around the edges, creating what I could only assume was a very flimsy and pathetic fortress. My initial assessment was one of mild contempt. Another human trinket. But I could not ignore the call of a new, unclaimed surface. I descended from my perch with the practiced silence of my ancestors and leaped onto the table. The texture under my paws was exquisite—a smooth, cool fabric with just enough give. I padded toward the center, my gray tuxedo a stark contrast to the mat’s chaotic art. My attention, however, was not on the overall quality, but on the creature depicted thereon. This "Morpeko." It stared back, its simple face a canvas for my own projections. In its static energy, I saw a challenge. The human, engrossed in sorting their cards, was oblivious. This was my chance. I wasn't merely going to lie on this mat; I was going to claim it. I lowered my body into a stalking posture, my tail giving a slow, deliberate twitch. The printed rodent was my quarry. I crept forward, placing one paw, then another, until I was standing directly over the image. I looked from the defiant face of the girl, Marnie, to her pet. Then, with the full weight of my pampered existence, I lowered myself directly onto the Morpeko, pinning it beneath my soft, warm bulk. I had captured it. The fortress of cards was irrelevant. A triumphant purr began to rumble in my chest as I kneaded the spot, my claws flexing ever so slightly into the resilient surface. The human finally looked over and chuckled, reaching out to move me. I gave them a look of pure, regal annoyance and refused to budge. This was no longer their playmat. It was my victory dais, the stage upon which I had asserted my dominance over a two-dimensional electric beast. It is, I have decided, entirely worthy of my presence. The quality is acceptable, but the narrative possibilities are sublime.
