Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with what appears to be a brightly colored plastic contraption filled with small, flimsy portraits of their kind. They call it "Guess Who?". The premise seems to be a tedious exercise in staring at faces and asking questions, a skill I perfected long ago to determine which human is most likely to offer a treat. While the little flippable plastic windows hold a certain tactile appeal for a discerning paw, the game itself is clearly a distraction from more important activities, like napping, grooming my magnificent tuxedo, and silently judging their life choices. The box, however, might be of a suitable dimension for a nap once they've discarded the useless contents.
Key Features
- A CHILDREN'S FAVORITE: There's a mystery person on your opponent's card. Can you find the matching face in the crowd. Guess Who is a light game of deduction best suited for young kids.
- BELOVED CLASSIC: This is the original mystery face game from the 1980's featuring all the same cast of characters!
- THE SETUP: Both players set up their 24 character cards in their plastic game units. Each player then picks a mystery face card and the fun begins!
- THE PLAY: Ask the right questions to eliminate the wrong faces. Is the person wearing a hat? Do they have a beard? Once you've got it narrowed down take a guess and see if you can solve the mystery!
- SKILLS: Playing Guess Who will improve your child's memory, recognition, deduction, and logic!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The two humans sat opposite each other, the loud *clack* of plastic echoing in my sunbeam. They had erected these strange blue and red shrines, each populated by a gallery of smiling, two-dimensional faces. I observed from my throne—the top of the bookcase—with an air of profound indifference. They called it a "game." I called it an inefficient method for identifying who in the neighborhood gives out the best head scratches. They began their ritual, a call-and-response of banal questions. "Does your person have a beard?" my human asked. I yawned. A beard is no indicator of character. I’ve known bearded men who recoil at the sight of a hairball and clean-shaven ones who know the precise spot behind my ears that induces a purr-quake. Their methods were laughably primitive. They were looking at hair color and accessories; I was analyzing the soul behind the eyes. I decided to grace them with my presence, leaping silently onto the rug between them. My human had their board open. I peered at the faces. So many options. But the answer was obvious. Their opponent, the smaller human, had chosen "Maria." I knew it instantly. Maria's picture had a tight, insincere smile, the kind worn by people who say "Oh, he's so fluffy!" but then hesitate to actually touch the fluff. My human, bless their simple heart, was focusing on hats. I'd had enough. In a fluid motion, I hopped onto the table, placing a single, pristine white paw directly on Maria's card on my human's board. I then flicked down her "hat," as if to say, "The headwear is irrelevant, you fool." My human stared, first at my paw, then at the card, then back at their opponent. "Is it... Maria?" they asked, a note of disbelief in their voice. The smaller human shrieked with delight. "Yes! How did you know?" My human looked at me, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and confusion. I simply stared back, then began meticulously cleaning my paw. I had not played their game. I had transcended it. My work here was done. I hopped off the table in search of a more intellectually stimulating activity, like watching a dust bunny drift under the sofa. The game was, I suppose, a decent enough vehicle for proving my omniscience.
