Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a large, plastic man-doll in a gaudy red and blue suit. They call it "Spider-Man." Apparently, its primary function is to just stand there, looking heroic, I suppose. It has limbs that move, which might offer a moment's diversion if I'm in the mood to rearrange it into a more dignified, less ostentatious pose. The real kicker, however, is the little hole in its back. This port, I've gathered, is for a *different* toy that makes noise, which, naturally, was not included. So, what I have here is not a toy, but a monument to poor financial planning and a platform for future, likely more annoying, purchases. It is large enough to be a satisfying thing to knock over, but without feathers, catnip, or self-propulsion, it's mostly an insult to my intelligence.
Key Features
- 12-Inch scale Spider-Man figure – Imagine Peter Parker suiting up as the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man with this 12-inch-scale Spider-Man figure, inspired by the classic character design from the Marvel Comics.
- Talking Super hero action figure – connect projectile launcher (not included. Sold separately with Titan hero blast figures.) to port on Spider-Man action figure’s back to activate sounds & phrases inspired by the Spider-Man Movie and fire projectiles!
- Spider-Man movie-inspired design – fans can imagine the web-slinging and wall-crawling Spidey adventures with this Spider-Man figure, inspired by the character from the Marvel comic books.
- Compatible with titan hero blast gear launcher (not included. Sold separately with Titan hero blast figures.) – connect to Titan hero series and Titan hero blast gear figures (each sold separately) for sound effects.
- Look for other Spidey Super hero toys - be on the lookout for other Spider-Man figures and gear to imagine the web-slinger swinging into action! Additional products each sold separately. Subject to availability.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The new idol arrived on a Tuesday. My human lifted it from a cardboard box with a reverence usually reserved for the can of premium tuna pâté. It was a giant, glossy figure, frozen in a state of perpetual, plastic alertness. They placed it on the highest point of the bookshelf, a territory I had long ago claimed as my own personal summit. It stood there, one arm outstretched, a silent, colorful mockery of everything graceful and serene. My human called it a "collector's item." I called it an eyesore. For a full day, I observed it from my velvet chaise. The intruder did not move, did not blink, did not even have the common decency to collect a respectable layer of dust. It simply stood, its painted-on eyes staring into nothingness. My human would occasionally glance up at it and smile, as if this garish sentinel was guarding our home from... what? Dust bunnies? A poorly aimed sunbeam? The sheer audacity of it was offensive. This was not a toy. A toy is a thing to be vanquished, a mouse to be disemboweled, a feather wand to be shredded. This was a statement, and I intended to provide a rebuttal. That night, under the sliver of moon filtering through the blinds, I made my ascent. The journey up the bookshelf was a familiar one, a silent ballet of precise leaps. When I reached the summit, I came face-to-face with the plastic man. It was lighter than it looked. I nudged its stiff leg with my nose. It smelled of chemicals and disappointment. Knocking it to the ground would be too simple, too crude. It deserved a more nuanced defeat. I began my work, not with claws, but with careful, deliberate pressure from my head and paws. I pushed one of its legs forward, then the other. I nudged its torso until it was bent at a ninety-degree angle at the waist. I nudged its arms until they were tucked meekly at its sides. The next morning, my human walked into the room, coffee in hand, and stopped. They stared up at the bookshelf. The hero was no longer hero-ing. Instead, Spider-Man was posed in a perfect, deep bow, head bent in deference, paying tribute to the one true master of the house who now sat below, calmly grooming a white paw. The toy was not worthy of my play, but it made for an excellent tool of psychological expression. It would stay. For now.
