Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with this... this *thing*. It is a long, black plastic cylinder with a sort of handle and a cheap-looking accordion hose. They call it a "pump." Apparently, its purpose is to perform the tedious manual labor of filling large, vinyl monstrosities with air, a task I find utterly beneath me. While the dangly hose attachment might offer a fleeting moment of diversion—perhaps a brief B-list performance as a plastic snake—the overall device smacks of human effort and practicality. It makes a series of wheezing and sighing noises, which is frankly pathetic. I suspect this is less a toy for me and more a tool to facilitate my human's bizarre obsession with inflatable furniture, a known enemy of a good stretch-and-claw session. It’s a waste of perfectly good plastic that could have been a mouse.
Key Features
- Great for airbeds or other large inflatables, the simple to use
- Designed to pump air on both up and down strokes, this double action pump maximizes airflow, making inflating fast and simple
- This hand pump includes 3 interconnecting nozzles with hoses to inflate or deflate different types of inflatables
- Small pinch valve is typically used for small inflatable like swim rings and floats.
- Large pinch valve is typically used for the large inflatables like large swim rings and floats
- Boston is typically used for larger inflatables like boats, rafts and beds.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The package arrived with the dull thud of mediocrity. My human, with an excitement I reserve only for the sound of a can opener, tore it open to reveal the Intex Double Quick III S Hand Pump. I watched from my post atop the bookcase, a gray-and-white shadow of judgment. It was a crude artifact, a relic from a less sophisticated time. My human attached one of the strange nozzle-mouths to the hose and began a rhythmic, vertical dance. A great, collapsed beast of blue vinyl on the floor began to stir, slowly filling with the pump's captured breath. The sound was what first tipped me off. It wasn't just air. *Whoosh-hiss. Whoosh-hiss.* It was a language. A desperate, asthmatic code being sent out into the world. My ears, finely tuned instruments that they are, detected the subtle variations in pitch and tempo. This wasn't inflation; it was a séance. My human was attempting to communicate with some form of air elemental, summoning a plasticky ghost to inhabit the vinyl shell. What ancient, lung-based horror were they trying to conjure right here on the living room rug? Once the ritual was complete and the blue beast stood fully formed and taut, my human left the pump discarded on the floor. My moment had come. I descended from my perch with the silence of a falling feather and approached the strange object. I sniffed the nozzle, the very portal through which the incantation had been spoken. It smelled of plastic and ozone. I nudged the handle with my head. It moved, letting out a soft, mournful *pffff*. I was a whisper, an echo of the spell. I knew then that this was no mere toy. It was an instrument of power, a conduit to the unseen world of gassy spirits and inflatable demons. I could not destroy it—the human would only get another—but I could learn its secrets. I would become the master of the whoosh-hiss, the gatekeeper of the vinyl dimension, ensuring no unwelcome entities were summoned to disrupt my nap schedule.
