Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in her infinite and often misguided wisdom, has presented me with what appears to be a small, plastic effigy of one of her own kind, albeit one with a severe skin condition and an unfortunate taste for frills. This "Cupid Asteria" doll from the "Monster High" collection is, I deduce, a totem for a small human's ritualistic party play. It smells faintly of a factory in a land I have no desire to visit. It comes with wings made of "bone," a claim I find both intriguing and likely fraudulent, and an arsenal of tiny plastic pieces perfect for batting into the dark void beneath the credenza. While the fleeting joy of watching my human crawl on her hands and knees to retrieve a microscopic "eyeshadow palette" has its appeal, this object is primarily a stationary nuisance, occupying valuable sunbeam real estate with its garish pinks and reds. A true waste of my time, unless those wings are, by some miracle, chewable.
Key Features
- Draculaura is turning 1600, and the student bodies of Monster High are celebrating with a Scary Sweet Birthday bash Cupid Asteria doll is ready to boo-gie in a gore-geous outfit and accessories
- Raised on Mount Olympus, Cupid Asteria loves love She has a knack for making friends, giving advice, and floating through starry skies on her bone wings
- Her party lurk is frighteningly frilly Red heart-print bloomers peek out from a shimmery dress. An arrow-pierced heart detail and crossbow bracelet make her outfit all the more golden
- Party-themed accessories set the scene for a Scary Sweet Birthday -like a toy bag for Draculaura with a surprise present inside An invite, balloon, and birthday card are also included
- With styling pieces like an arrow tote and eyeshadow palette, kids and collectors alike will have a scream of a time helping Cupid Asteria doll get ready for her friend's midnight bash
- When it comes to a party, the more the merrier Check out the whole Monster High Scary Sweet Birthday collection to throw a spooky skelebration with the whole boo crew
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived in a transparent prison, which the human gleefully liberated it from. She called it "Cupid" and set it upon the mantelpiece, a silent, ghoulish sentinel with wings of bone and a disturbingly cheerful expression. For days, I observed it from my post on the velvet armchair. It was an idol for a forgotten, tasteless god. Its tiny accessories—a balloon, a gift, an invitation—were pathetic offerings left at its plastic feet. I was unimpressed. It was just another piece of colorful clutter in my well-managed kingdom. One evening, however, a storm raged outside, and the flickering lights cast long, dancing shadows across the room. The power failed, plunging us into a deep, velvety darkness punctuated by flashes of lightning. In one brilliant, electric-blue flash, I saw it. The doll's heart-print dress seemed to beat with a faint, crimson light. The arrow piercing the heart on its bodice was not a plastic molding, but a sliver of solidified shadow. Its bone wings, stark white in the flash, seemed to expand, to unfurl with the promise of silent flight. I, Pete, a creature of logic and instinct, felt a tremor of something ancient and unsettling. I leaped silently onto the mantel, my tuxedo fur blending with the gloom. I stood nose-to-nose with the creature from Mount Olympus. It smelled not of plastic, but of ozone and distant, impossible stars. Its painted eyes, in the next flash of lightning, held no vacant stare, but the collected loneliness of a thousand empty valentines. I saw in them the love of a sunbeam on a cold floor, the adoration of a perfectly filled food bowl, the fierce affection for a human who provides both. This was no toy. This was a keeper of echoes, a tiny god of quiet, domestic love. The crossbow on its wrist was not for show; it was a warning that such simple affections were a force to be reckoned with. When the lights flickered back on, it was just a doll again. Plastic, pink, and inanimate. But I knew what I had seen. I backed away slowly, my cynicism replaced by a grudging respect. I did not bat it from its perch. I did not test its wings with my teeth. I left it to its silent vigil. It had earned its place on the mantel. Not as a toy, but as a fellow guardian of this house's small, precious, and sometimes frighteningly powerful heart.
