Pete's Expert Summary
My Human, in a fit of what I can only assume is profound boredom, has acquired another plastic idol for their collection. This one, a garish red and white construct named "Aerialbot Fireflight," is a bipedal figure of moderate size. The packaging claims it can contort itself into a "jet" form, a pointless bit of engineering that will only serve to frustrate my staff. Its true value, if any, lies in the two minuscule blaster accessories, which have the perfect dimensions for being batted under the refrigerator. The main figure, however, with its stiff joints and pre-packaged "display-worthy" poses, seems far too static for a proper hunt. It's a trinket for human eyes, not a toy for a predator of my caliber, though I might knock it over just to hear the sound it makes.
Key Features
- AGE OF THE PRIMES AERIALBOT FIREFLIGHT: This Transformers Aerialbot Fireflight figure features deco and details inspired by the Transformers universe
- PART OF TRANSFORMERS AERIALBOT SUPERION: Aerialbot Fireflight action figure combines with other Aerialbot Transformers figures (each sold separately, subject to availability) to create the Aerialbot Superion figure
- 5.5-INCH DELUXE CLASS TRANSFORMERS FIGURE: In robot mode, the Transformers action figure is 5.5 inches (14 cm) tall
- CONVERT BETWEEN ROBOT AND JET MODE IN 17 STEPS: This Transformers toy figure converts between modes in 17 steps
- 2 ACCESSORIES ATTACH IN BOTH MODES: Figure comes with 2 blaster accessory pieces
- ARTICULATED FOR PLAY AND DISPLAY: Age of the Primes Transformers figures feature high articulation for display-worthy poses or action-packed play
- GIFT TRANSFORMERS COLLECTIBLES: Transformers action figures make a great gift for boys and girls 8 and up or anyone who collects Transformers toys
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The intrusion occurred during my designated mid-afternoon sunbeam session. The Human placed the red statue directly in the path of the golden light, a sacrilege of the highest order. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail a metronome of pure contempt. The figure stood there, silent and still, its plastic eyes staring into nothing. It was an effigy, a monument to poor taste, and an obstruction. I had already calculated the trajectory needed to knock it from the coffee table onto the hardwood floor, anticipating a satisfying clatter. It would be a simple, elegant act of territorial reclamation. Then, the Human picked it up again, and the ritual began. I froze, my ears swiveling forward. With a series of sharp, unsettling clicks, my staff began to dismember the statue while it was still "alive." A leg was twisted backward at an impossible angle. The arms were folded and crammed into its torso. Its head—its very face—was pushed down into its own chest cavity in a feat of grotesque mechanical horror. Each of the seventeen clicks was like a tiny bone snapping. This was not play. This was a methodical, deliberate transformation, a sort of forced, violent molting. I was not witnessing a toy being changed; I was observing a ceremony. When the bizarre ritual was complete, the creature was gone. In its place lay a flattened, angular shape, a mockery of a bird. The Human set this new form back down in my sunbeam. I crept from the sofa, belly low to the ground, my initial plan of simple destruction forgotten. This object was more complex than I had imagined. It was a thing of two souls, one upright and one prone. I sniffed at it. It smelled of the factory it came from and the Human’s fumbling hands. Then I saw them: two small, dark gray appendages clipped to its wings. They were not part of its core being; they were offerings. Or perhaps parasites. My purpose became clear. The large, transforming husk was a decoy, a noisy distraction. The true prize, the essence of the game, were these smaller attachments. With a speed the Human’s eye could barely follow, I hooked a single claw under one of the "blasters" and flicked. It popped free, skittering across the table's surface. Before the Human could even form a protest, I had snatched the tiny piece in my mouth and vanished under the couch. The large, complicated toy could have its sunbeam. I had captured its soul. It was, I decided, a surprisingly worthy endeavor after all.
