Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe my life lacks a certain... plastic je ne sais quoi. She has presented me with this "Barbie," a rigid effigy with alarmingly long hair and an arsenal of miniature plastic trinkets. From a feline standpoint, the doll itself is a large, unchewable bore, an obstacle at best. Its "dreams" of entrepreneurship are laughably human. However, the true value lies in the accessories. A tiny blow dryer, a lipstick, a phone case—these are not mere toys, they are exquisitely crafted projectiles, perfectly sized for batting under the heaviest and most inaccessible furniture in the entire dwelling. The potential for creating minor, long-term mysteries for my staff is immense, though the doll itself is destined to be ignored under a dust ruffle.
Key Features
- The Barbie Dream Besties Barbie "Malibu" doll shows that when you share your unique talents with the world, anything is possible!
- Barbie "Malibu" dreams of owning her own makeup company! She comes with beauty-themed accessories, like her clutch, sunglasses, blow dryer, hand mirror, lipstick and blush as well as a phone and phone case.
- The doll is posable and is wearing removable fashions, like her pink peplum top, denim shorts, gloves and heels!
- Barbie "Malibu" doll features long blonde, wavy hair, styled in a ponytail, with pink hair framing her face to show her expressive personality!
- The doll set makes a great gift for kids 4 years old and up, especially those who love makeup and styling!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It began as a Tuesday like any other, which is to say, dedicated to a structured regimen of sunbeam analysis and gravitational testing of objects on the mantelpiece. Then, the box arrived. My human called it "Malibu," a word that meant nothing to me. Inside, a blonde creature with a stare as empty as my food bowl just before breakfast was imprisoned in a clear plastic cage. I gave the box the obligatory inspection sniff—cardboard, plastic, a faint scent of shattered dreams—and dismissed it. My time is far too valuable. Later that evening, my patrol of the living room perimeter revealed a disturbance. There, on the Persian rug, lay a clue: a comically small tube of pink lipstick. It was an anomaly, an item outside the natural order of things. My ears swiveled. My tail gave a slow, thoughtful twitch. This was not a random dropping. This was a message. I stalked closer, nudging it with my nose. It smelled of nothing, yet it screamed of intrigue. I had a case. My investigation led me to the discarded plastic cage, now empty. The prisoner had escaped. And she was leaving a trail. I found the next piece of evidence—a tiny, impossibly shiny hand mirror—near the leg of the coffee table. The trail was fresh. I imagined the escapee, this "Malibu" creature, crawling desperately across the vast expanse of the floor, dropping her possessions as she fled some unseen terror. Was she friend or foe? Was she seeking asylum in my kingdom? My hunt became more urgent, a silent, padded-foot pursuit through the canyons of furniture. I found her, finally, face-down beneath the armchair, one leg bent at an unnatural angle. She was clearly no threat. But next to her, glinting in the dim light, was the real treasure: a miniature silver blow dryer. The mystery was solved. The prisoner was a decoy, a mule used to smuggle these glorious, skitter-friendly artifacts into my domain. I ignored the fallen agent and focused on the prize. With a single, expert tap of my paw, the blow dryer went sailing across the hardwood floor, a perfect, silent shot that ended under the entertainment center, lost to the humans forever. I then "secured" the mirror and the lipstick for further, more rigorous testing. The doll can stay where she is. Her mission is complete, and her tools have been successfully liberated by a far more discerning operative.
