Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often baffling wisdom, has procured what appears to be an anchor for a small battleship. They call it a "bike lock," but at over fifteen pounds of hardened manganese steel, I call it a ridiculous and immobile lump of metal. This "Kryptonite New York FAHGETTABOUDIT" is supposedly a toy, but it possesses zero playability. Its six-sided links are too thick for a satisfying claw-sharpening session, and its sheer mass prevents any sort of batting, chasing, or pouncing. The only redeeming qualities might be the crinkly nylon cover and the set of three keys, one of which glows. While the potential for a new light-dot to chase is intriguing, the main apparatus is an insult to my dynamic lifestyle—a complete and utter waste of floor space that could be better used for napping.
Key Features
- The ultimate chain lock for high theft areas
- 14 Millimetre six-sided hexagonal chain links made of triple heat-treated boron manganese for the ultimate strength in a chain
- Narrow inner width of individual links defends against leverage attacks
- Includes maximum security New York disc lock with 15 mm ovalised hardened steel shackle
- Hardened steel sleeve over crossbar for double security. Product weight: 15.25 pounds
- 14mm six-sided chain links made of 3t hardened manganese steel for ultimate strength
- Durable, protective nylon cover with hook-n-loop fasteners to hold in place
- Includes maximum security New York Disc Lock with 15mm MAX-Performance steel shackle
- Patented*, oval hardened steel crossbar for extra security
- Hardened double deadbolt locking for extensive holding power
- High security disc-style cylinder with reinforced anti-drill, anti-pull protection system
- Sliding dustcover protects and extends cylinder life
- 3 stainless steel keys – one lighted with high intensity bulb and replaceable battery
- Key Safe Program
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived with a floor-shaking *thud* that jolted me from a perfectly good sunbeam slumber. The Staff grunted, dragging a heavy box into the living room. My ears swiveled, my tail giving a low, suspicious twitch. Out of the box came a monstrous, coiled black serpent with a head of dull orange metal. It lay there, dense and menacing. I crept closer, my nose twitching, catching the scent of cold steel and something industrial. The human muttered the name aloud, a string of harsh, threatening syllables: "Kryptonite... Fahgettaboudit." The words hung in the air like a curse. I knew then this was no mere object. It was a containment device. For days, I observed it. My Staff would occasionally lift the massive chain, their arms straining, and I imagined they were testing the bonds of some terrible entity trapped within its hexagonal links. I heard them reading from a scroll—or perhaps a user manual—muttering phrases like "ultimate strength," "hardened double deadbolt," and "anti-pull protection system." Clearly, they were preparing for the arrival of, or perhaps the escape of, a formidable foe. I patrolled the perimeter of the chain, my gray tuxedo a stark contrast to its dark, imposing form, feeling the heavy responsibility of a guardian. I was the warden of this strange, silent prison. The moment of truth came when The Staff picked up a small ring holding three stainless steel keys. One of them, I noted with a jolt, held a tiny bulb that could be made to glow with an intense light. The key to the cage. The trigger. My body went taut. Was this it? Was the beast to be unleashed? I watched, breathless, as my human carried the chain and its glowing key out the door. I leaped to the windowsill to witness the final confrontation. And then I saw it. They didn't unleash a monster. They wrapped the chain... around the back wheel of their noisy, two-wheeled metal steed. It was a lock. A ludicrously oversized, dramatic, and self-important lock for a simple machine. All my theories of cosmic horror and epic battles dissolved into a puff of profound disappointment. The ultimate strength wasn't for containing a demon from the Ninth Circle, but for deterring a common street vandal. What a monumental waste of a good narrative. I turned away from the window, disgusted. The only thing this device had successfully imprisoned was my imagination.
