Pete's Expert Summary
So, the human has presented me with what appears to be a commemorative diorama of her own species from a particularly garish era. It’s a pair of plastic hominids, a "Barbie" and a "Ken," permanently affixed to tiny, wheeled platforms. They come with an assortment of miniature trinkets—sunglasses, a boombox—that look suspiciously perfect for batting into the dark abyss under the credenza. While these small offerings hold some promise for a brief, satisfying skirmish, the dolls themselves are inert, soulless figures. They offer none of the frantic, unpredictable movement I require in my quarry. Unless they can be convinced to roll off a high shelf on their own, they seem like a monumental waste of perfectly good napping territory.
Key Features
- Barbie and Ken Fashionistas dolls celebrate 65 years of signature style with a 2-doll set designed with a modern twist on an iconic look!
- Barbie and Ken doll are ready to skate out of the box inspired by their classic roller-skating looks and 6 accessories from the 1980s!
- Barbie doll gets stories rolling in a pink striped top, denim shorts, hoop earrings, knee socks and pink roller skates!
- Ken doll keeps up in a purple top with sleek stripes, black shorts with matching side stripes, socks and white roller skates!
- Storytelling pieces include a visor, headphones, 2 pairs of sunglasses, water bottle and boombox!
- Perfect for play or display, the commemorative Barbie and Ken set makes a great toy for collectors and kids ages 3 years and older!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The box was opened with the kind of reverence my human usually reserves for a particularly good cut of tuna. Out came the two figures, stiff and smiling, their garish 80s attire an assault on my refined gray-and-white aesthetic. She placed them on the living room rug, where they stood frozen mid-stride, one leg bent, arms out for a balance they would hold for eternity. It was deeply unsettling. My predator’s brain, finely tuned to the subtle language of movement and stillness, interpreted this not as a pose, but as a catastrophic failure. These creatures were stuck, trapped in a single, agonizing moment of forward momentum, like two brightly colored lizards that had forgotten how to function. My magnanimity, a quality I possess in spades, compelled me to intervene. I approached the male, the one called "Ken," and gave his raised roller skate a gentle, exploratory pat with one soft paw. He wobbled but remained locked in his ludicrous stance. A more direct approach was needed. I gave him a firm nudge to his shorts-clad hip, hoping to break his paralysis and send him rolling to freedom. Instead, he toppled over sideways with a hollow *clack*, his plastic smile now aimed directly at a dust bunny near the couch leg. The female, "Barbie," watched it all unfold, her painted-on eyes and pink visor betraying no emotion. This wasn't a rescue; it was an insult to my efforts. Dejected, I circled the fallen Ken and his stoic partner. My gaze fell upon the collection of tiny objects scattered from the box. There, glinting under the lamp light, was a miniature boombox. The dolls, I suddenly realized, were a distraction. They were not the point. This tiny, gray rectangle, however, was perfectly sized, exquisitely detailed, and practically begging to be skittered across the hardwood floor. I hooked it with a single, precise claw and sent it flying, its silent journey into the shadows far more thrilling than the stationary drama of the dolls. The dolls, I concluded, were merely elaborate, oversized packaging for their far more interesting accessories. The human could have her rigid, smiling statues. I would be claiming the boombox, the sunglasses, and perhaps the water bottle for my private collection under the armchair. They had failed as creatures, but their possessions showed excellent promise. A mixed success, but a success nonetheless.
