A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Action Game

Super Skills - Action Game for Competitive People - Beat Your Friends at 120 Challenges - Fun Group Activity for Family Night or Party with Kids, Teens

By: The World Game

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired a box of organized chaos from a brand called "The World Game," which is a rather grandiose name for a collection of plastic bits. This "Super Skills" contraption is, ostensibly, a game for the loud primates to prove their supposed dexterity to one another. It involves a bizarre assortment of tasks using cups, balls, dice, and even chopsticks. From my superior vantage point, it looks like a recipe for noisy frustration and dropped objects. However, I must concede a certain professional interest. The small, bouncy balls have potential, the dice are perfectly sized for batting under the radiator, and the rope is a classic. The "game" itself is a waste of my time, but the deconstructed parts are a veritable treasure trove of opportunities for solo, far more sophisticated, play.

Key Features

  • Super Fun - Show off your skills in various types of challenges. Be the first player to complete 10 challenges and win the game. An award-winning game in the board game, toy category. Fun games for girls and boys.
  • Diverse Challenges - Stack the cups into a pyramid while blindfolded. Bounce a ball of a wall behind your back and catch it. Balance 3 dice on a chopstick and a lot more. Team building games for work adult or game night games for groups adult.
  • For Kids & Adults - Super Skills is perfect for a family nights, groups of friends or team buildings. It can be played indoors or outdoors with a hard floor. A perfect gift idea for teenage boys and girls. Family game night will never be the same.
  • 4 Play Modes - Complete the challenge by yourself, together with your teammate, go head to head with another player or beat the whole group. Win and get the ultimate bragging rights.
  • Contents - 120 challenge cards, 10 cups, 5 balls, 4 dice, 2 chopsticks, blindfold, sand timer, rope, scoreboard and a dry-erase marker.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The evening’s tranquility was shattered by the rattling of plastic. My human and her companions, with all the subtlety of a herd of wildebeest, unboxed the source of the clamor. They spread the contents across the floor like offerings to a god of cheap manufacturing: cups of garish colors, little bouncy spheres, hard little cubes with dots. They called it "game night." I called it a disruption. I remained aloof on my velvet cushion, observing their primitive ritual with the disdain it deserved. The first challenge began. One of the humans, the one who always smells of strange hand lotion, had to bounce a ball off the far wall, behind his back, and catch it. He failed. The ball skittered away, coming to a rest near the leg of the coffee table, just inside my sphere of influence. On his second attempt, the ball again went wide. As he scrambled for it, I extended a single, impeccably groomed paw and gave the sphere a gentle, almost imperceptible tap. It rolled silently under the sofa, into the dark abyss where forgotten things go to die. The human groaned. I permitted myself a small, internal smile. My magnum opus, however, came during the "stacking the dice with chopsticks" event. My human, bless her simple heart, was concentrating fiercely, her tongue sticking out in a most undignified manner. A die wobbled precariously. The others held their breath. I saw my moment. With the flick of my tail—a movement of pure, fluid dynamics they could never hope to replicate—I created a subtle breeze. It was just enough. The die tumbled. The tower collapsed. A collective sigh filled the room. They blamed gravity, the clumsy oafs. They had no idea they were merely puppets, and I, Pete, was the puppeteer, pulling the invisible strings of physics and fate. They eventually packed the game away, their laughter and groans fading as they returned the instruments of their folly to their cardboard tomb. They thought they had competed against each other. The simpletons. They had been competing against a master, a gray-furred specter of elegant interference. This "Super Skills" game, as a structured activity, is beneath me. But as a toolkit for conducting a symphony of subtle sabotage? It is, I must admit, a masterpiece. And the box makes for a rather fine napping dais. It is worthy.
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Let's Go Fishin' Game by Pressman - The Original Fast-Action Fishing Game!, 1-4 players

By: Pressman

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired what can only be described as a shallow, plastic mockery of a real ecosystem. It’s a "Let's Go Fishin' Game," a contraption where a blue plastic disc spins, causing a school of gaudy, inedible fish to rhythmically open and close their mouths in a silent, desperate plea. The supposed "game" involves tiny humans using flimsy poles to snag these unfortunate creatures. While the constant, hypnotic rotation and the frantic movement of the prey-analogues might offer a moment's diversion for a less discerning feline, the entire affair seems loud, cheap, and ultimately unfulfilling. It simulates the hunt without offering any of the sensory rewards—the scent, the texture, the satisfying finality. A potential distraction, but more likely a waste of a perfectly good sunbeam.

Key Features

  • Our Let's Go Fishin' game is the original version of a well-known and well-loved fishing game that parents will remember playing as kids
  • Gameplay helps develop hand-eye coordination
  • Players use mini fishing poles to try to catch the most fish
  • Features a rotating pond and fish that open and close their mouths
  • For 1-4 players, ages 4 and up
  • Try to get the most fish in this classic action packed game
  • Deluxe plastic game base
  • 21 colorful fish
  • 1-4 players

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The ceremony began with a terrible grinding noise, a mechanical groan that set my whiskers on edge. My human placed the blue circle on the floor, and two of her miniature, shrieking offspring gathered around it like acolytes at a strange altar. The circle began to turn, a garish vortex of plastic, and from its depths rose the "fish." They were grotesque things—bright orange, lime green, garish yellow—bobbing up and down, their mouths gaping in a syncopated, soundless chorus. The tiny humans, armed with their pathetic little sticks, began the ritual, jabbing clumsily at the circling effigies. I watched from my observation post on the arm of the velvet chaise, my tail twitching in profound disapproval. This was not a hunt. This was an insult to predators everywhere. Their technique was appalling, their focus laughable. They would snag a single plastic creature and erupt in cheers, completely missing the dozen others that passed them by. They were celebrating their own incompetence, mesmerized by the noisy, repetitive motion of their plastic god. It was a deeply flawed, inefficient system, and it offended my very nature. I could not allow such a perversion of instinct to continue. In one fluid movement, I descended from my chaise, a silent, gray-and-white arbiter of true skill. I bypassed the clumsy humans and their sticks entirely. With a single, perfectly executed swipe of my paw—a blur of soft gray fur and surgical precision—I hooked three of the plastic fish at once, sending them skittering across the hardwood floor. They tumbled and slid, finally liberated from their endless, circular purgatory. The grinding stopped. The tiny humans stared, their mouths now agape like the very fish they had failed to catch. My work here was done. The game itself is a cacophonous piece of junk, but its liberated components make for a rather stimulating game of floor hockey. It is worthy, but only once it has been properly disassembled by a professional.
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Epoch Games Super Mario Blow Up! Shaky Tower Balancing Game - Tabletop Skill and Action Game with Collectible Super Mario Action Figures (Pack of 1)

By: EPOCH

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.
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Fotorama Alien Vision Action Game New Version, Shoot Roaring Aliens, Wrist Blaster, Space Goggles, Indoor, Outdoor & Dark Play, Hand-Eye Coordination, Motor Skills, Fun Challenging Games for Kids

By: Fotorama

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in a moment of questionable judgment, has procured a device from the brand "Fotorama," which appears to be designed for the small, loud variety of human. It consists of a pair of absurdly large goggles and a plastic contraption that straps to the wrist. The objective, as far as my superior feline intellect can discern, is for the wearer to stumble around the house shooting at phantoms that only they can perceive through the eyewear. While the frantic, uncoordinated movements of a human chasing nothing might provide some fleeting slapstick amusement, the accompanying electronic "roaring" and the sheer amount of batteries required—six!—suggest this is a high-maintenance, low-reward endeavor that will primarily serve to disrupt my napping schedule. It is, in short, a glorified light-show tethered to a flailing human.

Key Features

  • GRIPPING ACTION GAME – Save Earth from the Alien Invasion in this space shooter game. It's fun using your WRIST BLASTER to shoot the aliens targets as they appear through your SPACE GOGGLES. Three different colors of aliens pop up in the goggles and ROAR when they are eliminated!
  • INTERACTIVE AND ENGAGING – Tag the red alien for double points! Home base announces your score at the end of each round. TEAM UP with your friends and catch aliens with this indoor and outdoor toy and join the neighborhood in this fight for humanity. A perfect Birthday Gift for Boys and Girls. Recommended for children ages 5 and up.
  • 4 DIFFICULTY LEVELS, HAND-EYE COORDINATION, MOTOR SKILLS – With 4 levels of difficulty, your child will improve their hand-eye coordination and fine-tune their motor skills having fun being alien catchers.
  • INCLUDES – 1 Wrist Blaster and 1 Pair of High-Tech Space Goggles, which allow you to see these invasive galactic creatures wherever you are. This is not a Virtual Reality game. (Batteries not included; this game requires 6 AAA batteries.)
  • ABSOLUTELY SAFE AND FUN – Alien Vision passes testing by the US Consumer Products Safety Commission and is absolutely safe for children. Play inside, outside, or in the dark for even more fun! Great gift for your little defender.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The case landed on my paws on a Tuesday. The evening air was thick with the scent of microwaved leftovers and impending foolishness. My human, The Dame, was fidgeting with a box. I watched from my observation post atop the bookcase, tail giving a slow, methodical sweep. She pulled out the hardware: a pair of goggles that looked like a fly's nightmare and a gray plastic blaster she strapped to her wrist. A dame in trouble? No. Just a dame with too much disposable income. She lowered the goggles over her eyes and the living room went dark for her, but I could still see everything. She stood there, a statue in a temple of bad taste, for a full ten seconds. Then, it began. A sudden lurch to the left. A frantic pointing of the wrist-thing at the empty air beside the ficus. A tinny, electronic *ZAP* echoed, followed by a synthetic "ROAR!" that sounded more like a dying battery than a creature of conquest. She was seeing things. Ghosts in the machine. I narrowed my eyes. This wasn't some spectral visitor; this was cheap electronics. The Dame was shadow-boxing with flickers of light. I padded silently across the floor, a gray ghost myself, to investigate the phenomenon up close. She whirled to face the wall, blasting away at an invisible foe, her reflection in the dark television screen a frantic pantomime. I saw the faint, colored lights from the goggles dance across her pupils—greens, blues, and a particularly aggressive red that made her yelp with a triumphant "Gotcha!" She was chasing points, not spirits. The whole charade was a self-contained loop of stimulus and response, a digital puppet show for an audience of one. The only alien in the room was this bizarre contraption itself, an invader of peace and quiet. The mystery wasn't who was haunting the house; it was why anyone would pay money to be haunted so poorly. Case closed. I stretched, a luxurious arch of my back, and gave a pointed yawn. The Dame could have her phantom menace. I had a more pressing engagement with a patch of moonlight on the Persian rug that was calling my name. Some battles, I concluded, are not worth fighting; they are worth sleeping through.
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Mattel Games Rock 'Em Sock Em Robots: you control the battle of the robots in a boxing ring

By: Mattel Games

Pete's Expert Summary

My humans, in their infinite and often misguided quest to entertain themselves, have procured a miniature arena where two garishly colored plastic puppets engage in a futile, noisy battle. It's a "Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots" contraption, a product from Mattel Games, a known purveyor of human amusements that rarely consider the refined palate of a feline. The entire device seems designed to generate irritating clicking noises and sudden, jarring thwacks as two oversized bipeds mash buttons. Frankly, the spectacle itself is beneath me. However, I am intrigued by the primary objective: to "knock your opponent’s block off." A small, flying piece of plastic? Now that has potential. It could be a delightful new puck to slide across the hardwood or a trophy to hide in a shoe. The game is a waste of my time, but its byproduct might just be worth the wait.

Key Features

  • Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots deliver hard-hitting fun for over 40 years!
  • The classic boxing match pits Red Rocker versus Blue Bomber in the ring.
  • The game has one key aim be the first to knock your opponent’s block off!
  • Kids will have a blast battling it out with realistic sounds and jaw-jolting action.
  • For 2 players.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The call came in around 1900 hours. Not on a phone, of course. It was a sound. A rhythmic, grating *clack-clack-clack* followed by a sharp *THWACK*. The kind of noise that murders a perfectly good nap. I cracked open an eye from my post on the velvet armchair. The scene of the crime: the living room rug. The perps: my two humans, hunched over a lurid yellow square. Inside, two figures, a Red Menace and a Blue Brawler, were locked in clumsy combat. This was the "Rock 'Em Sock 'Em" case. My job: to observe, to judge, to determine if this new disturbance was a threat or an opportunity. I moved with the silence my tuxedo suggests, slinking behind the sofa for a better vantage point. The humans were agitated, their faces illuminated by the overhead light, shouting nonsense like "Get him!" and "Right in the jaw!" Their thumbs, clumsy and fat, slammed down on the controls, translating their primal rage into the pathetic flailing of the plastic combatants. The noise was an assault on the senses. The action was repetitive. A lesser cat would have fled. But I'm Pete. I stay on the case. I was looking for the angle, the twist. And then it happened. The Red Menace, after a particularly violent-sounding *CRACK*, landed a blow. The Blue Brawler's head—a perfect, cerulean cube of plastic—popped from its shoulders with a satisfying snap. It flew through the air in a glorious arc, a silent testament to shoddy engineering, and landed with a tantalizing *skitter* near the leg of the coffee table. The humans roared, one in triumph, one in defeat. They didn't see what I saw. They saw the end of a game. I saw the beginning of one. The evidence was secured. While the humans reset their noisy ritual, I crept from my hiding place. The little blue head was cool and smooth under my paw. A flick sent it spinning across the polished floor, a far more elegant and compelling sport than the button-mashing that birthed it. My final report: the Mattel Games device is a cacophonous failure as entertainment. However, as a dispenser of high-quality, lightweight batting objects, it's an unqualified success. Case closed. Now, to hide this evidence under the refrigerator.
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Hypershot Electronic Tabletop Hockey Game | 5 Games in 1 | Music, Lights, and Sounds | Ages 8 and Up | for 1 to 2 Players | Kids Board Games

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in their infinite and often misguided quest to find something more interesting than my magnificent tail, has procured a plastic slab of blinking lights and noises. This "Hypershot" contraption by Hasbro Gaming is, essentially, a miniature arena for flicking discs. It purports to be a tabletop hockey game, complete with flashing targets, sound effects, and various modes of play. For me, the appeal is twofold and primitive: small, skittering objects (the "pucks") and fast-moving lights. These are core tenets of a quality feline distraction. However, the accompanying "sports-themed songs" and electronic squawks threaten to disrupt the serene silence required for my seventeen hours of daily meditation. It is a classic dilemma: the promise of a superior huntable object versus the certainty of auditory assault.

Key Features

  • ELECTRONIC TABLETOP HOCKEY GAME: Get ready for action-packed excitement with the Hypershot electronic kids game! It’s up and moving fun, as players slide their puck and try to hit the lights before their opponent
  • COMPETITIVE, PUCK-SHOOTING FRENZY: In this air hockey-themed game for kids, players shoot their pucks at moving or stationary lights and compete to own the “ice.” The first to win 4 rounds is the champion
  • 5 HIGH-ACTION GAMES IN 1: Play again and again with 5 game modes! Go head-to-head in four different 2-player games—Ricochet, Slap Shot, Shoot-Out, and Face-Off—or hone skills solo in Trainer mode
  • MUSIC, LIGHTS, AND SOUNDS: Featuring 5 sports-themed songs, lights, and sound effects with every game mode! At the end of each round, the game unit announces the score
  • PORTABLE AND STORABLE: Compete at home and on the go! With easy, in-game storage, this portable game is a snap to pack up and toss in a bag. It’s an ideal kids travel game for busy families
  • FUN GIFT FOR KIDS: Active games and sports games make cool gifts for kids, and the Hypershot game is a great holiday or birthday gift for boys, girls, and kids ages 8 and up

A Tale from Pete the Cat

I was awakened from a particularly profound nap—the one where I was chasing a sunbeam that tasted vaguely of roasted chicken—by a strange, synthetic chanting. It wasn't the usual drone of the large, cold food box, but something new. A rhythmic, electronic beat pulsed from the living room, accompanied by flashes of brilliant blue and red light that danced across the ceiling. I stretched, extending each claw with the deliberate grace of a seasoned predator, and padded silently toward the source. There, on the low table where my human usually leaves their warm beverage-pucks, sat a new shrine. It was a flat, black altar, and upon its surface, glowing runes flared to life and then vanished in a pattern I could not yet decipher. My human was kneeling before it, an officiant in a baffling ritual. With a focused intensity, the human began flicking small, black discs across the altar's surface. The discs, smooth and dense, slid with a satisfying *thwack* against the walls of the shrine, occasionally striking one of the glowing runes and causing the entire device to cry out in synthetic triumph. It was a chaotic, pointless display. The human was trying to *extinguish* the beautiful lights, a fool's errand. I watched from the shadows, my tail twitching, a low growl of disapproval vibrating in my chest. They called this "Slap Shot," a term of obvious disrespect for the sacred object. I could not allow this desecration to continue. With a leap that was both fluid and commanding, I landed squarely in the middle of the shrine, my pristine white paws silencing the frantic game. The human made a noise of protest, but I ignored them. The flashing lights swirled around me, illuminating my soft, gray fur in a dramatic tableau. The electronic voice announced something about a "foul," but I knew the truth: it was recognizing a higher authority. I lowered my head, selected the most appealing of the black discs, and with a deft flick of my paw, sent it skittering off the altar and under the sofa. The human's game was flawed, but the components were of undeniable quality. This particular puck would make a fine trophy for my collection. The shrine itself, once it ceased its infernal noise, would make a heated, albeit rather firm, napping platform. It has potential.
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EPOCH Games Super Mario Piranha Plant Escape! - Tabletop Action Game for Ages 4+ with 2 Collectible Super Mario Action Figures

By: EPOCH Games

Pete's Expert Summary

Ah, yes, another plastic contraption from the humans' world of "Nintendo." It appears to be a sort of shrine where one rolls a speckled cube to determine the fate of two small, mustachioed statues. The centerpiece is a garish, toothy plant that lunges forward on a mechanical whim, a cheap jump-scare designed to entertain simple minds. While the intricate rules and the act of "winning" are clearly a colossal waste of my energy, I must admit a certain professional interest. The small figurines have a pleasing heft that suggests they would skitter quite satisfactorily across the hardwood floor with a well-aimed swat, and the die itself could provide minutes of frantic, under-the-sofa-based entertainment. A tedious ritual for them, perhaps, but a potential source of spare parts for me.

Key Features

  • Super Mario Tabletop Piranha Plant Escape! Game, Multiplayer Family Game for Ages 4+
  • Game includes easy-to-assemble Piranha Plant base with game board, 2 unique Super Mario Action Figures including Super Mario and Luigi, 2 Character Plates with Yoshi & Toad stickers and game die.
  • Roll the die to determine how many places your Super Mario character must move on the game board. The number you land determines the number of chances to must take against this classic villain. Watch out! The Piranha Plant will randomly attack and knock the figures off of the game board. Be the last character standing to win!
  • Collectible Action Figures are compatible with other Super Mario Games including Balancing Games and Blow Up! Shaky Tower! Collect all games and expand your collection of figures!
  • Great indoor family activity and game night favorite for Nintendo and Super Mario fans!

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It arrived on a Tuesday, a day I usually reserve for deep contemplation of the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. The Human, with the sort of ceremony usually reserved for opening a can of my favorite tuna, assembled the brightly colored artifact on the low table in the living room. It was a stage, a miniature coliseum of sorts, dominated by a slumbering green-and-white beast. Two tiny, brave-looking figures were placed before it: one in red, one in green. They stood there, frozen, awaiting their doom. I watched from the precipice of the armchair, an old god observing the follies of a new and deeply confusing religion. The Human began the rite, shaking a small, spotted cube in their cupped hand before letting it clatter onto the board. A number was revealed. The red totem was moved. A strange tension filled the air. Then, the Human pressed a button, and the beast, the "Piranha Plant," awoke. It lunged forward with a loud *CLICK*, its plastic maw snapping shut just shy of the red figure. The Human gasped with feigned surprise. I, however, was not so easily impressed. This was not chaos; this was clockwork. A predictable, spring-loaded destiny. I gave a dismissive flick of my ear and began grooming a patch of immaculate fur on my shoulder. Later, when the Human was distracted by the glowing rectangle they carry everywhere, I took my chance. I landed on the table with the silence of a falling shadow. I approached the arena, my whiskers twitching as I analyzed the scene. The little statues smelled of nothing but the factory they were born in. The great plant-beast was inert, its threat entirely dependent on the clumsy finger of its master. I saw no honor in this battle. With a calculated nudge of my nose, I sent the green figure, "Luigi," toppling from the board. He landed silently on the rug. There was no thrill, no challenge. It was a hollow spectacle. I then turned my attention to the true prize: the speckled cube. With a deft hook of my claw, I flicked it from the board. It skittered across the floor, a far more compelling and unpredictable opponent than the plastic plant could ever be. I pounced, chasing it under the bookshelf. The game, I concluded, was merely a clumsy container. The true toy had been freed. The Piranha Plant can keep its stage; I have my star.
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Buffalo Games - PlingPong, for 96 months to 1200 months

By: Buffalo Games

Pete's Expert Summary

Human, you've presented me with what appears to be a highly structured system for containing fun. This "PlingPong" by Buffalo Games is, in essence, a brightly colored plastic obstacle course for a perfectly good set of nine ping-pong balls. While the interlocking trays and rigid rules of a "game" for bipedal players are an insult to the very nature of chaos and play, I cannot deny the appeal of the components. The plastic cups, while gaudy, offer excellent sound potential when knocked from a great height. The true prize, however, are the nine pristine, bouncy, glorious white spheres. The human ritual itself is a waste of my time, but the inevitable errant throws that will liberate these spheres from their plastic prison? That holds promise.

Key Features

  • Includes 25 cups: 6 red, 6 yellow, 6 green, 6 blue, 1 black
  • Also includes: 9 Ping-Pong Balls, 4 Interlocking Game Trays, Game Rules
  • Age 8+, 2-4 players
  • Set-up in seconds with easy interlocking trays!

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans called it "Family Game Night," a term I've learned is code for "loud noises and ignoring the cat." They unboxed the contraption, and the scent of fresh plastic filled the air. My nose twitched in disdain. They clicked together the cheap-looking trays and arranged the garish cups like some bizarre, primary-colored altar. I watched from my throne—the velvet armchair—with my eyes narrowed to slits, projecting an aura of utter boredom. They were fools, preparing a ceremony whose true purpose they could not comprehend. The game began. A cacophony of thuds, hollow *plinks*, and triumphant shrieks filled the room. The little white orb would fly through the air, a fleeting comet of possibility, only to be trapped in a cup or swatted away by an uncoordinated hand. It was an agonizing display. My tail, a barometric measure of my irritation, began to *thump-thump-thump* against the armrest. They were wasting the potential of these perfect spheres on a pointless game of "points." Amateurs. Then, it happened. A particularly clumsy throw by the smaller human sent a ball careening off the edge of the tray. It hit the hardwood floor with a magnificent *tok!* and ricocheted under the credenza. The humans groaned in frustration, their attention already on the next throw. They had forgotten it. Discarded it. But I had not. I flowed from the chair like smoke, a silent gray wraith on a sacred mission. Under the credenza, in the dusty darkness, I cornered my prize. It was light, responsive, perfect. I gave it a single, expert *pat*, sending it skittering across the floor in a beautiful, unpredictable dance. Let them have their pointless game. I had claimed the first soul of PlingPong, and I knew, with the certainty of a predator, it would not be the last. This device, while crude, was an excellent, if unwitting, ball-dispensing machine. Worthy.
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Game Zone Super Stadium Baseball Game - Realistic Tabletop Baseball Game for 2 Players Ages 6+

By: Game Zone

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in his infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured yet another large, noisy plastic rectangle. He calls it a "Super Stadium Baseball Game," which seems to be a human contrivance for flinging tiny white spheres across a green expanse using a series of levers and springs. The whole affair is clearly designed for his clumsy, oversized paws and juvenile amusement. While the cacophony of clicks and the Warden's triumphant shouts are an assault on my delicate ears, I must confess a certain professional interest. The sheer number of small, tantalizingly rollable balls and the little plastic men, so perfectly sized for being batted under the furniture, suggests this may not be a complete waste of valuable napping territory. It has potential, if one can ignore the human operators.

Key Features

  • GOODBYE HOME RUN: Launching levers and hidden contraptions make this miniature baseball game a real crowd-pleaser! Step up to the plate and swing for the fences! Realistic baseball action allows you to hit singles, doubles, triples, and homers with the spring-loaded bat.
  • RUN THE BASES: If you want to play baseball everyday even when it’s raining or night time, the Super Stadium Baseball Game is perfect for you. You get everything you love about baseball without leaving the table. Hot dogs and sodas not included.
  • TONS OF CONTROLS: Magnetized infield creates ball movement. Dual Pitching lever controls curve balls and changes speed. Your opponent won't be able to predict the type of ball. You can throw a fastball, slider, sinker, change up, or whatever your preferred pitch is.
  • ALL THE BASEBALL FEATURES: The Super Stadium Baseball Game has everything of a real baseball game including Dual breaking ball lever, switch hitter feature, disappearing miracle ball, score pad, adjustable fielders positions, batter counts and the ability to choose pitches thrown.
  • PRODUCT SPECIFICATIONS: Package contains (1) Game Zone Super Stadium Baseball Game with Realistic Baseball Action. Includes (1) playing field, (1) bat, (1) pitcher, (3) base runners, (7) fielders, (3) score pins, (5) balls, score sheet, and instruction manual. 1 - 2 players, Ages 6 and up.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The disturbance began, as it so often does, with the crinkle of cellophane and the dull thud of a cardboard box hitting the floor. I opened one eye from my regal position on the velvet armchair, observing The Warden as he assembled the garish green monument. He and the smaller human spent an hour clicking plastic figures into place, their excited babbling a pointless soundtrack to my afternoon slumber. My initial assessment was bleak: it was an eyesore, a cheap shrine to a sport that involves far too much running for far too little reward. I dismissed it and returned to my nap, twitching an ear in irritation at the periodic *thwack* of the spring-loaded bat. Later, silence descended. The humans had abandoned their new idol, likely for a lesser pursuit like sustenance. I stretched, my claws extending for a satisfying pull on the armchair's brocade, and hopped down to inspect the abandoned battlefield. The air still hummed with the faint smell of plastic. My approach was stealthy, my white paws silent on the hardwood. The miniature field was littered with small, stationary figures. With a delicate nudge of my nose, I sent a blue-capped "fielder" tumbling. A small, but deeply satisfying, act of chaos. Then I saw it: a small white orb, no bigger than a beetle, nestled beside a lever. My first pat was tentative, a simple test of its properties. It rolled smoothly on the fake grass. A second, more decisive swat sent it careening toward the far wall, where it ricocheted with a pleasing *clack*. This was promising. I stalked it, my body low to the ground. As I prepared for a final pounce, my paw brushed against one of the levers. To my astonishment, a section of the field beneath the ball vibrated, and the orb took a sudden, sharp turn as if guided by an unseen paw. A magnetized infield, the box had boasted. I blinked. This was no simple ball; this was a devious, unpredictable prey that danced to a hidden rhythm. A challenge. But the true genius of the device revealed itself by accident. In a frenzy of batting the magically curving sphere, I sent it skittering toward a small hole near what the humans called "home plate." It vanished. Not rolled away, not hidden, but simply gone. My ears perked, my tail gave a single, sharp lash. A disappearing miracle ball? I peered into the dark opening, my whiskers twitching. From beneath the plastic stadium came a faint rattle—a secret chamber. The fools! They thought they had bought a game for themselves. What they had truly brought into my kingdom was an endlessly resetting puzzle box, a magnificent altar for the sacred game of "Now You See It, Now I Find It and Hide It Under the Radiator." This stadium was no longer theirs. It was my training ground.
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