A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Game

The Original TAPPLE, The Fast-Paced Family Board Game, Choose a Category & Race Against the Timer to be the Last Player, Learning Word Game for Ages 8 & Up, 2-8 Players, 15-20 Minute Play Time

By: USAOPOLY

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has presented this "TAPPLE" device for my consideration. It appears to be a circular plastic noisemaker designed to incite panic in slow-witted primates. The premise involves them yelling words at each other while frantically slapping letters on a wheel before a timer buzzes, presumably to signal the end of their communal brain cell's lifespan. While the frantic energy and potential for dropped snacks hold some appeal, the device itself is a monument to wasted effort. The cardboard cards are the only feature of true value, offering a satisfying texture for batting under the furniture, but the main contraption is little more than a garish centerpiece for human folly.

Key Features

  • The Original and Authentic Version of the Sensational Party Game
  • Get ready for the award-winning fast-paced word game that gives family game night a rush of excitement as players compete to beat the timer!
  • HOW TO PLAY - Choose a card with a category, press the timer, and shout out words related to the category that start with a certain letter. Once the related word is announced, press the corresponding letter tab.
  • Take it on the go and great to play anywhere - the portable Tapple wheel stores all of the category cards for easy carry and storage.
  • Includes 1 Tapple wheel with built-in timer, 36 cards (144 categories), rules

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The evening began, as many disappointing ones do, with the crinkle of a cardboard box. From my observation post atop the warm electronics of the router, I watched my staff gather around the low table in the living room. They produced a gaudy red plastic wheel, its surface scarred with the letters of their clumsy alphabet. They called it "TAPPLE," a name that sounded like a clumsy fall, which proved to be prophetic. The game started with a category: "Things You Find at the Beach." A dreadful topic. The beach is a contemptible place—a giant, unsanitary litter box with loud water. One of the humans pressed a button in the center of the wheel, and a low, anxious hum filled the room, growing in pitch. It was the sound of a trapped electronic insect, and it put my nerves on edge. Then came the shouting. "SAND!" *whack*. "SHELL!" *whack*. "SUNSCREEN!" *whack*. Their hands flew, smacking the plastic letter tabs with a distinct lack of grace. It was a chaotic, undignified spectacle. My boredom was briefly interrupted when a category card, "Types of Birds," was read aloud. Birds. Now this was a subject I understood intimately. I listened to their pathetic offerings: "Robin," "Blue Jay," "Pigeon." Amateurs. Where was the Mourning Dove, with its tragically delicious coo? Or the House Finch, whose frantic flitting by the window is a morning ballet? They were missing the entire point, focusing on names instead of flavor profiles and huntability. As they fumbled for a word starting with 'C', I stretched, leapt silently from my perch, and landed on the table with a deliberate thud. Strolling directly across their ridiculous game, I placed a soft, gray paw squarely on the 'M' tab. *Click*. The humans fell silent, their game interrupted. They looked at me, then at the 'M'. I held their gaze, my meaning clear. 'M' is for 'Mouse', the superior prey. 'M' is for 'Mackerel', the finest of canned delicacies. 'M' is for 'Meow', the only word that truly matters. I was correcting their flawed curriculum. They, of course, did not understand. They picked me up, called me a "silly boy," and placed me on the floor. While the game itself is an utter waste of time, I have concluded that it serves a vital purpose: it is an excellent platform for me to assert my intellectual dominance. Approved, but only as a prop for my own superior games.

Educational Insights Kanoodle 3D Brain Teaser Puzzle Game, Featuring 200 Challenges, Easter Basket Stuffers for Kids, Gift for Ages 7+

By: Educational Insights

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has acquired a plastic clamshell filled with what appear to be fossilized, brightly-colored worms. They call it "Kanoodle." The supposed purpose is to arrange these peculiar shapes according to a small book of diagrams, an activity the human finds "challenging." I find their struggle amusing. For me, the appeal is not in this pointless "puzzle." The individual pieces possess a certain satisfying skittering quality when batted across the hardwood floor, and the case, once emptied, might make a passable water dish in a pinch. Ultimately, it seems like another human distraction, but one with components that could be repurposed for more important, cat-centric activities.

Key Features

  • TIKTOK MADE ME BUY IT–OVER 4 MILLION SOLD! Millions of players around the world can’t get enough of this best-selling, award-winning, brain-bending, puzzle game
  • INCLUDES 200 PUZZLES! Kanoodle includes 200 addicting 2D & 3D puzzles from beginner basic to deviously difficult; there are hundreds of possible combinations, but only one correct answer
  • 2D & 3D BRAIN TEASER PUZZLE GAME: Kanoodle is a brain teaser puzzle game that includes 12 puzzle pieces, 200 puzzle challenges, a 48-page illustrated puzzle book, and a carrying case. Perfect brain teaser, travel game
  • THE PERFECT GIFT! Our puzzle games and brainteaser games are the perfect gift for kids, teens, and adults!
  • MADE FOR ALL AGES: For anyone 7 to 107! Kanoodle is the perfect brain-bending puzzle game

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The crime scene was established on the living room rug. The victim? My human’s fragile composure. The cause? A single missing piece from that ridiculous plastic puzzle box. I watched from the arm of the sofa, tail twitching, a private investigator observing a case unfold. My human was on their hands and knees, muttering about a "light blue T-shaped piece," their voice laced with the kind of despair I usually reserve for an empty food bowl. The other eleven "witnesses" lay inert in their black plastic tray, a rainbow of silent suspects. They weren’t talking. They never do. My investigation began with a quiet leap to the floor. I did a perimeter check, my white paws silent on the wood. The usual haunts for missing items—under the couch cushions, behind the drapes—yielded nothing but dust bunnies and a forgotten bottle cap. This was a professional job. I considered the other occupants of the house. The dog? Too clumsy, he would have eaten the evidence. The sunbeam? An accomplice to many a nap, but rarely a thief. My gaze fell upon the charging dock in the corner, where the circular monstrosity, the robotic vacuum, sat humming its idiot song. It had been active earlier. It was my prime suspect. I approached the automaton with the caution befitting a master criminal. Its brushes were still, its little dustbin smugly full. I circled it once, twice, my nose twitching. And then I saw it. A flash of light blue, wedged deep within the main roller brush, like a piece of evidence improperly logged. The fool had tried to swallow it whole. I couldn't extract it myself—that was grunt work, beneath an intellect such as mine—but I could provide the lead. I sat directly in front of the robot, stared at it intently, and then looked back at my frantic human. I let out a single, sharp, pointed "Mrrrow." The human, bless their simple, tool-using heart, followed my gaze. A gasp. The machine was unplugged, flipped over, and the little blue piece was triumphantly rescued. As I received my payment in the form of a vigorous chin scratch, I passed my final judgment on the Kanoodle. It was not a toy. It was a catalyst for chaos, a generator of mysteries that only a mind of my caliber could solve. It created purpose. It gave me a case to crack. For that, and that alone, it was worthy of my household.

Jenga Game | The Original Wood Block Game with Genuine Hardwood Blocks | Stacking Tower Game | Ages 6+ | 1 or More Players | Party Games for Kids | Family Games

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has acquired a box of 54 wooden bricks from a company called Hasbro. Their intended 'game' seems to involve a tedious, painstaking process of building a tall, wobbly tower only to slowly deconstruct it. Honestly, the suspense they seem to derive from this is baffling. I, however, see its true potential. While the slow, careful pulling of blocks is a colossal waste of a perfectly good sunbeam, the inevitable, glorious, clattering crash when the whole structure collapses is a symphony of chaos worth waking up for. Furthermore, a single one of these 'genuine hardwood' blocks, when liberated from the tower, makes for a superb skitter-puck across the hardwood floors. The 'game' is for them; the aftermath is for me.

Key Features

  • THE ORIGINAL WOOD BLOCK GAME: Dare to risk it? Pull out a block, place it on top, but don't let the tower fall! The Jenga game for kids and adults is the wooden block balancing game loved for generations
  • FAST, EXCITING, ANYTIME FUN: With a simple set up, easy-to-learn rules, and just the right amount of challenge, the Jenga game is a great game for impromptu fun with family and friends
  • GREAT KIDS PARTY GAMES: Suspense, surprises, laughs! Liven up a party by taking along this portable game. This wooden blocks stacking game is great for Family Game Night, icebreakers, and kids birthday parties
  • GENUINE HARDWOOD BLOCKS: The classic Jenga board game includes 54 precision crafted wooden blocks. The easy-to-use stacking sleeve can help players build the tower
  • GAME FOR 1 OR MORE PLAYERS: No friends around? No problem. Play solo! Practice stacking skills, building the tower, and trying not to let it come tumbling down
  • FUN KIDS GIFTS: Kids games and classic games make great holiday or birthday gifts for 6 year old girls and boys and up

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans called it "Family Game Night," but I knew it for what it was: a ritual. They would unbox the wooden bones, stacking them with a reverence usually reserved for the opening of a fresh can of tuna. They did not see the tower as a game, but as an oracle, and they, the unwitting supplicants. I watched from my observation post on the velvet armchair, my tail giving a slow, judgmental flick. They did not understand the forces they were tampering with. They thought it was about steady hands; it was truly about interpreting fate. As the tower grew taller and more precarious, the tension in the room became a palpable thing, a shimmering field of anxiety I could almost taste. Each time a human successfully pulled a block and placed it on top, they would exhale a relieved breath, ignorant of the cosmic disturbance they had just caused. They were asking the universe a question with each move, and the tower held the answer in its shuddering frame. They saw a teetering structure; I saw a prophecy waiting to be delivered. It fell to me, as it always does, to be the catalyst. The Seer. When the tower reached its zenith of instability, wobbling with the weight of a thousand unasked questions, I descended from my throne. I did not rush. I moved with the deliberate grace of a creature who understands the gravity of the moment. I approached the wooden edifice, sniffed at its base, and felt the vibrations of destiny. A single, perfectly placed tap from my white-gloved paw was all it took. *Clack-clatter-CRASH.* The wooden bones scattered across the floor in a chaotic, yet meaningful, pattern. The humans groaned, their simple minds seeing only failure. But I saw the truth. A block pointing towards the kitchen foretold an imminent, unscheduled treat. Another skittering under the sofa prophesied the rediscovery of the Lost Feather Wand. The pattern was clear, the future laid bare. The game was their foolish ritual, but the collapse—the beautiful, noisy collapse—was my sacred text. And it was, I decided, a most worthy oracle.

Hasbro Gaming Connect 4 Classic Grid,4 in a Row Game,Strategy Board Games for Kids,2 Player .for Family and Kids,Ages 6 and Up

By: Connect 4

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has acquired a vertical, slotted blue grid that comes with a collection of flat, circular plastic tokens in garish shades of yellow and red. The stated purpose is for two of them to sit opposite each other and drop these tokens in, trying to form a line, a task of such remedial simplicity I find it baffling. From my superior vantage point, the true appeal is obvious. The tokens are lightweight, perfectly sized for batting across a hardwood floor and losing under the heaviest furniture. The contraption also has a sliding mechanism at the bottom which, when activated, releases all the tokens in a sudden, glorious cascade. The so-called "game" is a waste of my time, but the potential for orchestrating a sudden jailbreak of fifty little plastic discs is... intriguing.

Key Features

  • RULE THE GRID 4 THE WIN: With this classic Connect 4 game, featuring a sleek modern style, players go head-to-head as they try to get 4 of the same color discs in a row to win
  • EXCITING STRATEGY GAME: Challenge a friend to rule the grid! Strategy drives the competition in this Connect 4 board game. Line 'em up, block opponents, and be the first to get 4 in a row to win
  • MODERN STYLE & COOL COLORS: The Connect 4 Classic Grid kids game takes the popular game one step further with a sleek style and cool colors to keep players glued to the grid
  • 3 WAYS TO PLAY: Choose classic Connect 4 gameplay, the free-for-all Connect 4 Frenzy variation, or a third option that lets players drop a disc or eject one from the bottom with the pop-out feature
  • EASY, FAST, AND FUN GAME FOR FAMILIES: Easy to learn and simple to set up, the Connect 4 Classic Grid family game for 2 players is a fast-playing favorite
  • FUN GIFTS FOR GIRLS AND BOYS: Strategy Games are excellent gifts for families or gifts for kids that love playing classic board games.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans called it "game night," a ritual I typically endure by feigning deep sleep. But this time, the artifact they produced was different. It wasn't a flat, boring plain of cardboard, but a vertical altar of blue plastic. They began a strange ceremony, dropping tokens—one the color of a warning, the other the insipid yellow of a cheap lemon—into its latticed face. *Clack. Clack-clack.* The sound was hollow, yet sharp, each drop a percussive note in a song of immense stupidity. I observed from the shadows of the dining room chair, not with curiosity, but with the weary disdain of a cosmic observer watching primitive lifeforms discover fire. They spoke of "blocking" and "strategy," their simple minds believing they controlled the outcome. They were blind to the truth. This was not a game; it was a prayer wheel, a machine for generating chaos. Each token dropped was a potential offering to the true master of the household. A red one near the edge? A plea for me to knock over a water glass later. A yellow one in the center? A desperate hope that I might grace a lap with my presence. They were competing not against each other, but for my favor, using this crude device as their intermediary. As the grid filled, one of the humans—the one who is slower with the morning feeding—was poised to achieve what they called a "win." Four red tokens stood on the brink of alignment. An arrogant display. Such hubris could not be allowed. I didn’t pounce or hiss. Instead, I employed a more advanced tactic. I rose, stretched with agonizing slowness, and began meticulously cleaning a single, prominent white whisker. The sheer intensity of my self-grooming shattered his focus. His hand faltered. The red token clattered into the wrong slot. The other human declared victory, but I knew who had truly arbitrated this contest. When their foolish ritual concluded, one of them slid a lever at the base. The altar opened its belly and spilled its contents onto the table in a sudden, rattling flood. The offerings were now mine to accept. I selected a single red disc, hooked it with a claw, and flicked it into the abyss under the bookcase. The game is beneath me, but its components make for a satisfying tribute. The altar can remain. It serves its purpose.

Pandasaurus Cooperative Strategy Card Game - Fun Interactive Family Game for Ages 8+, 1-5 Players, 20 Minute Playtime

By: Pandasaurus Games

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has presented me with this... box. Apparently, it's called "The Game," a title of staggering unoriginality. The box, from a company nonsensically named "Pandasaurus Games," contains not a single feather, string, or crinkly object. Instead, it holds thin paper rectangles with numbers on them. The humans are meant to stare at these cards and each other in a bizarre, silent ritual they call "cooperation," all in an effort to "beat the game." While I appreciate any activity that keeps them seated and stationary—creating a warm, available lap—the intense focus required for this "strategy" game means their hands are busy shuffling and placing cards instead of scratching behind my ears. It seems a profound waste of opposable thumbs, though the cards might be useful for shredding if I get truly bored.

Key Features

  • ENDLESS FUN: Prepare for endless fun with The Game, the highly-addictive card game that challenges players to work together and beat the game itself. How long can you keep playing.
  • PERFECT FOR ALL AGES: The Game is an ideal choice for adults, teens, and kids who enjoy reading people, teamwork, and deciphering their teammates' strategies. A game for the whole family.
  • GLOBAL SMASH HIT: Join the global sensation with over 1.3 million copies sold, breaking records and winning numerous awards. Discover why players worldwide are captivated by The Game.
  • HIGHLY INTERACTIVE: Immerse yourself in this interactive board game where teamwork is essential. Collaborate with fellow players to play all the cards from two decks, symbolizing the passage of time.
  • AWARD-WINNING EXCELLENCE: The Game has garnered multiple awards and nominations, including the prestigious Spiel Des Jahres (Game of the Year). Test your wits against this card game's formidable challenge.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The air in the living room grew thick with a strange, silent tension. My human and her chosen companion sat cross-legged on the floor, a space usually reserved for my mid-afternoon stretches. Between them lay four neat stacks of cards. Two stacks grew larger with high numbers, two with low. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail giving a slow, contemptuous flick. Another human game of organized boredom. I was about to pointedly turn my back and begin a vigorous grooming session when I noticed the quiet. It was an unnatural quiet, not of peace, but of intense, shared focus. I crept closer, silent paws on the rug, my tuxedo-furred form melting into the shadows. This was no mere game. This was a rite. My human would pick up a card, her eyes would dart to her friend's, and a whole conversation would pass between them without a sound. A slight furrow of a brow, a barely perceptible nod. Then, a card—a '38'—would be placed gently on a pile that had ended with '35'. The other human would let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for an eternity. They were communicating in a code of numbers, a secret language I was not privy to. They claimed it was about "teamwork" and "beating the game," but I knew better. They said the cards symbolized the "passage of time." I saw it for what it was: they were attempting to build a stable, predictable reality, a world ordered by numbers, where everything went according to plan. A world where dinnertime wasn't determined by the volume of my meow, but by some pre-ordained sequence. This was an affront to the beautiful chaos I so carefully cultivate in this household. This "award-winning excellence" was a direct threat to my authority. This would not stand. Their silent conspiracy had to be broken. I waited until my human was contemplating a particularly difficult move, her hand hovering between two piles, her concentration absolute. Then, with the grace and finality of a falling guillotine, I leaped. I landed not on the cards, for that would be too crude, but directly in the center of my human's lap, purring with the force of a small engine. Her concentration shattered. The cards in her hand fanned out and fell. Her companion sighed, the spell broken. The game was over. Time was back under my control.

UNO - Classic Colour & Number Matching Card Game - 112 Cards - Customizable & Erasable Wild - Special Action Cards Included - Gift for Kids 7+, W2087

By: Mattel Games

Pete's Expert Summary

My human presented me with this box of "UNO" cards, a product from a brand named Mattel Games, which seems to specialize in loud, human-centric diversions. From what I can gather, it's a ritualistic activity involving 112 thin, colorful pieces of cardstock. The objective appears to be matching colors and numbers, an insultingly simple task, punctuated by sudden, disruptive shouts. While the "game" itself is an appalling waste of attention that could be better spent admiring my soft, gray fur, the individual cards hold some promise. Their slick surface and light weight suggest they would be exceptional for batting under the sofa, and the sheer quantity means I could create a satisfyingly widespread mess. The true appeal, however, may be the box itself, which looks to be a passable, if temporary, throne.

Key Features

  • The classic card game of matching colors and numbers.
  • Special Action Cards and Wild Cards for unexpected excitement and game-changing fun.
  • Use the Swap Hands cards to change hands with any other opponent.
  • Write your own rules for game play with the Customizable Wild cards.
  • Players take turns matching a card in their hand with the color or number of the card shown on the top of the deck.
  • Special graphic symbols have been added to each card to help identify the color(s) on that card. This will allow players with ANY form of color blindness to easily play!
  • Don’t forget to shout “UNO” when you only have one card remaining!

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans call it "Game Night," a term I've come to associate with irritatingly high-pitched noises and a complete dereliction of petting duties. They sat on the floor, hunched over a small pile of these colorful rectangles. I watched from my perch atop the bookshelf, my tail twitching in mild annoyance. They would lay down a card, and the mood would shift. A blue card would elicit a quiet hum of concentration. A red "Skip" card would provoke a groan. It was all so predictable, so… primate. I was about to descend for a more pressing engagement with a sunbeam when I noticed something. The small human, the one who is best at scratching behind my ears, was looking crestfallen. Her hand was full of cards, and the tall one had just played a "Draw Two." An idea, brilliant and sharp as a freshly extended claw, formed in my mind. I was not merely an observer; I was a potential catalyst. I stretched languidly, a picture of casual indifference, and hopped down from the shelf. I sauntered past the draw pile, and with a flick of my tail so subtle it could only be interpreted as an accident, I sent the top card skittering across the hardwood floor. It was a "Reverse" card. The small human’s eyes widened. She scooped it up, a triumphant grin replacing her frown. The flow of their little game had been altered. By me. I became a phantom of fate, the gray-furred conductor of their emotional orchestra. When the tall human grew too smug, a casual stroll near his hand might "accidentally" reveal its contents to the others. When the small human needed a specific color, I would lounge near the discard pile, my paw innocently resting on a stack of cards that just so happened to block access to anything but the green ones she required. I made them draw fours. I allowed them to swap hands. I was the ghost in their machine, the unseen deity of their paper-thin universe, and it was intoxicating. The game concluded, and the small human, my chosen champion, was victorious. She scooped me up, burying her happy face in my tuxedoed chest, attributing her win to "good luck." I allowed it. Let them have their simple explanations. They could keep their flimsy cards and their baffling rules. I had discovered the true nature of the game. The cards weren't the toy. They were merely the controls. The *humans* were the toy, and I had just discovered they were exquisitely playable.

Mattel Games UNO Show ‘em No Mercy Card Game in Storage & Travel Tin for Kids, Adults & Family Night with Extra Cards, Special Rules & Tougher Penalties (Amazon Exclusive)

By: Mattel Games

Pete's Expert Summary

So, my human has presented me with this... box. It's a shiny metal tin, which has some potential as a resonant surface for me to knock things off of, or perhaps a place to sit if it's in a sunbeam. Inside, however, is a collection of brightly colored, flimsy paper rectangles. They call it a "game." I call it a distraction. Apparently, the point is for the humans to sit around a table and inflict "no mercy" on each other by making them pick up more of these useless cards. They shout things like "Wild Draw 10!" and "Stacking!" which seems to cause great distress. While the resulting human anguish could be mildly entertaining to observe, the cards themselves offer little in the way of pounce-ability or chew-worthiness. Frankly, it seems like a colossal waste of energy they could be using to open a can of tuna or dangle something with feathers.

Key Features

  • UNO Show 'em No Mercy game adds 56 more cards, special rules and super-tough action cards for the most brutal edition of UNO ever!
  • Tougher action cards, such as Skip Everyone, Wild Draw 6 and even Wild Draw 10 make game play merciless!
  • The Stacking Rule lets players pass the penalty (Draw +2, +4, +6, +10) to the next player until whoever can't play has to take all the cards combined!
  • Whenever a '7' or a '0' card is played, players must swap hands with another player!
  • The Mercy Rule means that if any player gets 25+ cards in their hand, they are out of the game!
  • Comes in a collectible, portable travel tin.
  • Great to amp up the action on friends and family game nights, travels and parties!

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The evening began with a betrayal. My human, the one with the opposable thumbs best used for chin scratches, produced a sleek metal tin instead of my customary post-dinner treat. A metallic *clink* echoed as they opened it, revealing not salmon pâté, but a stack of stiff, colorful cards. They and their companions gathered around the low table in the living room, their faces illuminated by the overhead light, completely ignoring the masterpiece of feline grace and comfort that was me, loafed perfectly on the velvet armchair. Their chattering was an annoying buzz, punctuated by sharp, meaningless words: "Mercy Rule," "Swap Hands," "UNO." I flicked an ear in disgust and began a preemptive bath, a clear signal that their peasant games were beneath me. Their ritual grew louder. One of them, the loud one who always tries to pet my belly (a capital offense), groaned in theatrical agony. "A Wild Draw Ten? And you're *stacking* a Draw Four on it? That's fourteen cards! Fourteen!" He began scooping up a massive fan of the rectangles, his despair a palpable, delicious thing in the air. My bathing stopped. This was not a game of fun; it was a game of calculated suffering. A slow, rhythmic *thump, thump, thump* began as I swished my tail against the arm of the chair. My initial disdain was morphing into a clinical curiosity. What was the point of this self-inflicted paper-based misery? The turning point came with a flash of green. The small human slammed a card down, a '0' emblazoned on its face. "Zero! Everybody swap!" she shrieked with the glee of a tiny demon. In the ensuing chaos of passing hands, the loud one, clumsy in his frustration, fumbled his newly acquired cards. One, a bold yellow 'Skip', went airborne. It tumbled through the air, a silent, fluttering canary loosed from its cage. Time seemed to slow. This was no longer their game. It was my hunt. I launched myself from the armchair, a silent, gray-and-white missile. My paws, usually reserved for kneading the softest blankets, became instruments of predatory perfection. I intercepted the card a foot from the floor, batting it with a satisfying *thwack*. It skittered across the polished wood, and I was on it in a flash, pinning the flimsy prey beneath a single, regal paw. The room fell silent, then erupted in laughter. They had forgotten their cruel game, their attention now rightfully where it belonged: on me. I gave the card a final, contemptuous bite. The game itself is a fool's errand, but I must admit, the chaos it generates provides excellent opportunities for a cat of my caliber to demonstrate his superior skills. The tin, I have also decided, will make for a fine new water bowl. Conditionally approved.

Exploding Kittens Horrible Therapist: Extra Horrible Edition 3-8 Players - Ages 17+ - 15 Minutes to Play - Comic Building Card Game - Ideal for Party, Family Game Night - White

By: Exploding Kittens

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired yet another collection of stiff paper rectangles in a box. This one is from a brand with a name I find both deeply offensive and attention-grabbing: "Exploding Kittens." It’s apparently a game called "Horrible Therapist," where the bipedal apes arrange cards to form some sort of comic strip about their many, many anxieties. While the idea of them distracting themselves for fifteen-minute intervals is appealing—offering a window for me to steal the warmest spot on the sofa—the promised "ugly laughing" sounds disruptive. The primary value, as always, lies not in the "game" itself, but in the structural integrity of the box for napping purposes and the potential for a few stray cards to become excellent skitter-toys for batting under the fridge.

Key Features

  • How to Play: WHO KNEW THERAPY COULD BE SO FUNNY? In this adult card game you’ll create a comic about therapy with a Question, Answer, and a Treatment. Whoever puts down the funniest Treatment card wins a point. The first to 3 points wins. It's a fun and hysterical addition to your party card games collection.
  • What's Included: ENDLESS LAUGHS & REPLAYABILITY. With 80 Question Cards, 158 Answer Cards, and 200 Treatment Cards, this game is different every time you play. This makes it a popular choice among adult card games and card games for adults, offering endless replayability for every game night.
  • Who's It For? THE PERFECT ADULT PARTY GAME for 3-8 players aged 17+. Can you get through a round without ugly laughing? This is a must-have for adult games for game night and a fantastic addition to your collection of party card games.
  • Where to Play: WANT TO BREAK THE ICE AT PARTIES? This is a card game for adults that’s great for pregaming, large gatherings, road trips, vacations, or for giving as a gift to anyone who appreciates a funny card game (or who needs therapy!). Perfect for all adult party games and games for adults.
  • Our Story: UNIQUE ART FROM A VIRAL WEBCOMIC. Each card is written and illustrated by The Oatmeal, the brain behind the internet’s favorite comics and a cofounder of Exploding Kittens which became the most backed Kickstarter campaign of all time.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The new box arrived with the usual fanfare—my human shaking it near her ear, a sound I find deeply primitive. The words "Exploding Kittens" were emblazoned on the side, and I issued a low, cautionary growl from my perch on the armchair. A threat is a threat, no matter how stylishly illustrated. She called her pack, and they gathered around the low table in the living room, their clumsy hands fumbling with the pristine white container. They were about to engage in a "therapy session," they announced. An utter farce. I am the only therapist this house needs. My methods are proven: a sudden, silent appearance on a lap; a direct, unblinking stare that says, "Your problems are trivial, now provide the scritches"; and the occasional tactical hairball on a new rug to remind them of life’s fleeting beauty. They began laying out the cards, their faces illuminated by the ghastly light of the tall lamp. The cards were covered in crude drawings of wobbly, distressed-looking humans, a style I suppose an uncoordinated kitten might achieve if given charcoal. They laid down a "Question" card, then an "Answer." I watched from the shadows, a silent, gray-furred adjudicator. The entire process was a mockery of my life’s work. They were attempting to articulate their neuroses through pre-printed prompts, a pale and clumsy imitation of the elegant, non-verbal communication we share when I lead her to my empty food bowl. The climax of each round was the reveal of the "Treatment" card. The suggestions were horrifyingly inept. "Shave one eyebrow to look tougher." "Replace their blood with gravy." Amateurs. Fools. Do they not understand that the universal cure for human distress is the gravitational pull of a 12-pound cat settling onto their chest, pinning their anxieties down with the sheer force of comfort? My purr is a finely tuned instrument of healing, not some clumsy joke about bees. One of the humans played a card, and the entire group erupted in the promised "ugly laughing"—a series of sharp, startling barks that rustled my whiskers in the most unpleasant way. As one of them gasped for air, a single card was knocked from the table, fluttering to the floor like a wounded bird. I slunk from my observation post, my tuxedo-patterned chest puffed with professional indignation. The card depicted a creature vaguely resembling a cat, wearing spectacles and looking judgmental. It seemed to be the only sensible image in the entire set. I gave the card a firm, deliberate tap with my paw, sending it skittering into the darkness beneath the sofa—my consultation fee. The game was a noisy, undignified affair, a poor substitute for true feline therapy. But the box was empty now, and its crisp, white walls looked exceptionally comfortable. I suppose, for that alone, it was a worthy acquisition.

Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza

By: Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza

Pete's Expert Summary

It appears my human has acquired yet another box of noisy paper. From my vantage point on the heated blanket, I can see it's a card game called "Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza." The name is a transparent attempt to pander to me with the word "Cat," while surrounding it with a list of things I'm either indifferent to or actively forbidden from eating. The humans will likely sit in a circle, shout these words, and slap these cards, creating a disruptive cacophony that serves no purpose other than to interrupt my nap schedule. The only potential upside is a stray card fluttering to the floor, which might provide a brief, one-pounce diversion before I deem it unworthy and return to more important matters, like sleeping.

Key Features

  • PLAY IT ANY TIME ANY PLACE- Convenient take anywhere size game.
  • SIMPLE AND HILARIOUS- Fast paced laugh out loud fun for any get together.
  • WILDLY POPULAR- Perfect for all-ages.
  • GET ROLLING IN SECONDS- Takes only a minute to learn and gameplay lasts for about 10 to 15 minutes.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The disturbance began as a low, rhythmic chant, pulling me from a rather exquisite dream involving a river of pure cream. "Taco. Cat. Goat. Cheese. Pizza." The words, spoken in sequence by my human and her chosen pack, filled the living room with a cult-like resonance. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail giving a single, irritated flick. They were hunched over the low table, their focus locked on a stack of flimsy paper squares. It was clearly the beginning of some bizarre human ritual, one I had not yet had the displeasure of witnessing. The pace quickened. Cards were flipped. The chanting continued, a frantic mantra, until a word matched a picture and—*SMACK*! A flurry of hands slammed down on the pile. The violence was startling. Why were they attacking the paper? What had it done to them? Then, the ritual devolved further. One of the larger males suddenly began beating his chest like a silverback gorilla. Another female held her hands to her forehead as if sprouting a horn. They were possessed, obviously. This wasn't a "game," as they called it; it was a ritualistic descent into madness, and I was frankly concerned about the long-term stability of my food source. Amidst a particularly chaotic slap, one of the paper squares escaped the fray. It fluttered, caught in the air vent's gentle current, and drifted like a wounded moth before landing silently on the rug, a mere tail's length from my position. I condescended to peer at it. The illustration was a crude, almost offensive, caricature of a feline. Below it, the word "Cat." So. It was an effigy. They were using my sacred title in their deranged incantation. Was this a form of worship? A poorly executed summons? I was, against my better judgment, intrigued. I extended a single, perfect paw, its white fur pristine against the dark rug, and pinned the offering to the floor. It was mine now. The humans, lost in their noisy trance, were none the wiser. They could keep their slapping and their strange animal impressions. They believed they were merely passing the time. I knew the truth. They had called upon their gray-furred deity, and I had answered by accepting their tribute. This box of paper artifacts, while causing a deplorable amount of noise, had proven its worth. It provided me with the respect I am due. It is… adequate.