42V 1.7A for Ninebot Electric Scooter Charger Compatible with Ninebot Segway Scooter ES2/ ES4/ E22/ F20A/ F25/ F30/ F40/D18/D28/D40/F2/F2 Plus/ F2 Pro/Air T15/E2 Pro KickScooters

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The box it arrived in was disappointingly plain, lacking the satisfying corrugated texture of a proper scratching surface. The Human tore it open with their clumsy paws and unfurled the contents: a long, black snake with a blocky, square head. It lay there on the Persian rug, an intruder in my domain. My Human cooed at it, calling it a "charger," and plugged its head into the wall. A tiny green eye opened on the block, watching me. I watched back from the arm of the Chesterfield, my tail twitching in silent judgment. This was an interloper, and I, Pete, am the sole arbiter of what is and is not permitted in this household. My investigation began under the cover of the Human's distraction. I crept forward, belly low to the ground, my gray fur a shadow against the dark wood floors. The "snake" was unnaturally still. I extended a single, cautious claw and tapped it. Nothing. No hiss, no retreat. It was a coward. I followed its length, a generous expanse that snaked behind the credenza and re-emerged near the hallway. It was connected to the two-wheeled beast, the so-called "scooter," which sat dormant and lifeless. The green eye on the wall-brick continued its silent, malevolent stare. A low hum, barely audible to the Human ear but a clear thrum to my superior senses, emanated from the brick. It was working. It was feeding the beast, pouring energy into it. This wasn't a toy; it was an accomplice. This POANES device was directly responsible for powering the machine that would whisk my Human away, leaving my food bowl perilously unattended for hours at a time. A wave of cynical understanding washed over me. The long cord wasn't an invitation to play; it was a leash, tethering the Human's escape vehicle to the very lifeblood of the house. I circled back to the source, the warm brick. I sniffed it. It smelled of electricity and quiet ambition. While I could not approve of its function, I could not deny its quality. It was sturdy, silent, and radiated a consistent, pleasant warmth. I could not destroy it, for the Human would only procure another. Instead, I made a calculated, strategic decision. I curled my impeccably soft body directly on top of the brick, blocking its little green eye from view. Let it charge the scooter. I, in turn, would expropriate its warmth for my own superior purpose: a deep and satisfying nap. It was not worthy of my play, but it would serve me nonetheless. It had found its place in my world, not as an equal, but as a heated cushion.