My human has, yet again, squandered perfectly good tuna-and-treat money on an object of profound uselessness. This latest acquisition, a garish pink dome from a brand called "OUWOR," is apparently a "helmet." It boasts a hard plastic shell and foam innards, designed to protect the very fragile skull of a biped engaging in reckless, wheel-based activities. For a creature of my refined sensibilities, the appeal is non-existent. Its eleven holes, or "vents," offer no tactical advantage for bird-watching, and its adjustable straps are a pathetic imitation of a proper harness. While a lesser feline might be tempted to investigate the interior foam for its scratchability, I see it for what it is: a hollow, uncomfortable bowl that signifies my human is about to leave the house, which is, in itself, a complete waste of my valuable napping time.
The box arrived on a Tuesday, a day typically reserved for deep slumber in the western sunbeam. The scent that wafted out was not of salmon, nor of high-grade catnip, but of sterile plastic and distant machinery. My human, with the clumsy excitement of a puppy, tore it open and produced… The Object. It was a glossy, pink hemisphere, an oversized, fossilized egg from some flightless, tasteless bird. He placed it on the rug, a silent, mocking offering. I observed from my perch on the armchair, tail twitching in irritation. What was its purpose? It was too large to be a proper ball, too hard to be a bed, and its color was an affront to my sophisticated gray-and-white coat.
Later, when the house fell silent, I descended for a closer inspection. I circled The Object warily, my paws silent on the floor. It was a helmet, I’d heard the human say. I nudged it with my nose. The "strong ABS shell" was cold, impassive. I peered into its hollow depths, at the pale gray "EPS foam" lining the inside. It looked like the calcified brain of a very stupid giant. The long, dangling chin straps lay on the floor like dead black snakes. Then I noticed the holes. Eleven of them, arranged in a precise, unnatural pattern. A low hum seemed to emanate from them, a frequency just below the human range of hearing. I flattened my ears. This was no simple protective gear.
The truth dawned on me with the chilling certainty of a closing refrigerator door. My human had been spending too much time staring out the window, chattering at the squirrels. This helmet was not for a "scooter" or a "skateboard." It was a psionic amplifier. He intended to wear this pink monstrosity to finally understand their chittering, nut-obsessed language. He was trying to join their clan, to forsake the noble pursuit of napping for the frantic, pointless scurrying of a tree-rodent. The adjustable dial at the back wasn't for comfort; it was a tuning knob, meant to lock onto their primitive brainwaves. The betrayal was immense. This helmet wasn't just unworthy of my attention; it was a symbol of my human’s impending defection to a lesser species. I turned my back on it and walked away. Let him have his squirrels. I have my dignity.
Exhibit A — the specimen
The Particulars
—Two reinforced layers: strong ABS shell resists impact and high quality EPS foam provides shock-absorbing. Complies with U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission Safety Standard for Bicycle Helmets for Persons Age 5 and Older
—3 Sizes. Large is for adult, men and women. Please choose the helmet size according to the head circumference
—Suitable for various outdoor sports such as biking, skateboarding, skating, scooter, longboard, hoverboard and so on
—11 vents provide sufficient air flow, reduce sweating, keep user cool and comfortable
—Fully adjustable for a custom fit, provided by the crank adjustment dial, 2 sets of pads with different thickness, and length-adjustable chin straps
Pete's Verdict
★☆☆☆☆
A symbol of defection; rejected.
Classified
Acquire This Trinket
Should you insist. Pete is unbothered either way.
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Filed under: OUWOR
