Pete's Expert Summary
My human has acquired what appears to be a brightly colored, vertical catastrophe-in-a-box from a brand called EPOCH. The premise, as far as I can discern from my observation perch, is for the large, clumsy bipeds to stack an assortment of small, plastic effigies—a mustachioed plumber, his lanky green counterpart, a mushroom-headed creature, and others—onto a wobbly tower. Their goal is to prevent the very thing that makes this contraption interesting: its total and utter collapse. While the human ritual of taking turns and following rules is a baffling waste of perfectly good napping potential, the promise of a sudden, clattering avalanche of tiny, battable figures is undeniably appealing. The toy's true value lies not in the "game," but in its potential as a spectacle of kinetic failure.
Key Features
- Super Mario Tabletop Blow Up! Shaky Tower Balancing Game, Multiplayer Family Game for Ages 4+
- Game includes easy-to-assemble Shaky Tower, 7 unique Super Mario Action Figures including Mario, Luigi, Yoshi, Toad, Yellow Toad, Goomba and Boo and game die.
- Roll the die to determine how many figures each player must place on or take off the Tower. Take turns, and be careful not to make the Tower shake, or Mario and his friends will fall!
- Collectible Action Figures are compatible with other Super Mario Games including Balancing Games and Piranha Plant Escape! Collect all games and expand your collection of figures!
- Great indoor family activity and game night favorite for Super Mario fans!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
I first laid eyes upon the Shaky Tower from the dignified comfort of my favorite armchair. My human was hunched over the coffee table, assembling the flimsy altar of primary-colored plastic with a look of intense concentration I usually only see when she’s trying to operate the can opener. Once constructed, it stood there, a gaudy monument to instability, crowned with a large, offensively red sphere. Then came the pantheon of diminutive idols, pulled from the box one by one. I yawned. Just more plastic clutter to navigate on my nightly patrols. My human and her guest began their bizarre ritual. They’d roll a spotted cube, and with the fumbling delicacy of a newborn kitten, place one of the tiny figures onto one of the tower’s precarious ledges. They’d hold their breath, lean back, and sigh with relief when the structure didn’t immediately disintegrate. They were worshiping the god of tediousness. My gaze, however, was drawn to one specific figure: a small, white ghost with a mischievous expression. It seemed to understand me. It knew this whole charade was a farce. It was a kindred spirit trapped in a world of enforced stability. The tower grew more crowded. The tension in the room was a palpable, delicious thing. The humans’ movements became slower, more hesitant. They were fighting entropy, a battle they were destined to lose. I could feel the tower’s silent plea, the hum of potential energy begging for release. This could not stand. I am a creature of elegant chaos, a purveyor of gravitational certainty. It was my duty, my calling, to correct this imbalance. With a languid stretch, I hopped down from my throne, my paws making no sound on the rug. I approached the table not as a pet, but as a force of nature. Ignoring the humans’ hushed warnings, I placed a single, impeccably soft gray paw against the base of the tower. I did not shove. I did not swat. I merely applied a gentle, calculated pressure—a nudge of cosmic inevitability. The result was instantaneous and glorious. The tower shuddered, swayed, and then collapsed in a clattering crescendo of plastic. The little figures scattered across the floor like spilled candy. The humans groaned. I, however, had already singled out my prize. With a swift and practiced flick, I sent the little ghost figure skittering under the sofa, a trophy for the true victor. The game is profoundly stupid, but as an interactive sculpture designed for its own magnificent destruction, it is a masterpiece.
