Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a large, wheeled plastic rectangle from a company called Polly Pocket, which seems to specialize in things far too small for a dignified creature like myself. Upon investigation, it unfolds into a three-tiered diorama of some human vacation spot, complete with a slide, an elevator, and other moving bits intended to amuse a child. The true value, of course, lies not in the intended "play" but in the sheer quantity of minuscule plastic objects—dolls, accessories, a tiny car—all perfectly sized for batting under the heaviest furniture where the clumsy human vacuum cannot reach. While the miniature world itself is a potential napping platform, the primary operator will likely be a small, shrieking human, which could significantly detract from its overall appeal. It has potential, but requires strategic, solitary access.
Key Features
- This Polly Pocket Pollyville Resort Roll Away doubles as a playset and storage unit for Polly compacts.
- This action-packed adventure includes 4 dolls, 1 vehicle, and 25 plus accessories with locations like the beach, boardwalk, and hotel.
- The playset opens to a 3-story resort where kids can take part in endless vacation activities with Polly and friends.
- Have fun bringing dolls to the lobby in the resort elevator. The hotel also features a delicious buffet, the coolest arcade, and a bathtub in the hotel room.
- Dolls can fit into the slide and take a sweet ride to the beach boardwalk from the hotel.
- The beach is full of fun reveals and surprises like: speed bumps that activate the parasailing feature, a ferris wheel for dolls, and a helicopter ride with amazing views.
- The extendable handle makes it easy to take the playset anywhere on-the-go. Ideal for ages 4 years old and up especially those who love adventures. Colors and decorations may vary.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived on wheels, an affront of pink and teal plastic that my human rolled into the living room with an absurd amount of glee. She called it a "Resort Rollaway," a name as clumsy as the object itself. My initial assessment was one of deep contempt. It was a traveling case for mediocrity. But then, she unlatched its sides, and the facade fell away to reveal a tiny, vertical world. It was a resort, yes, but I saw it for what it truly was: a poorly managed estate in desperate need of a new landlord. Me. My first order of business was to inspect the facilities. I started with the hotel. I saw the small human place one of the little plastic tenants—a "doll"—into the elevator. I watched, unimpressed, as she manually moved it between floors. Once she was distracted, I took over. A gentle but firm tap of my paw sent the elevator car rattling to the bottom floor. The ride was clearly not up to safety standards. I proceeded to the buffet, a pathetic display of molded plastic food. I selected a tiny croissant with my claw and flicked it across the room. Tasteless. The entire culinary program would need to be overhauled. Next, I surveyed the recreational areas. The slide, leading from the hotel to the "boardwalk," was a particular point of interest. I nudged one of the vacant-eyed tenants to the precipice and gave it a shove. It tumbled down the garish yellow chute and landed in a heap. The mechanism was sound, if undignified. My attention was then drawn to a peculiar speed bump on the beach level. A single, calculated press of my paw sent a different doll, this one attached to a parachute, soaring into the air. This "parasailing" feature was a frivolous and dangerous liability, but I admit I activated it four more times just to be sure. After a thorough inspection that left the tiny car overturned and half the tenants missing (likely having fled my rigorous safety checks to take up residence under the sofa), I made my final judgment. The Pollyville Resort was a chaotic, shoddily constructed tourist trap with questionable amenities. As I settled my fluffy form onto the roof of the hotel, the highest point from which I could survey the beautiful destruction I had wrought, I decided to take it over. It was a fixer-upper, to be sure, but every ruthless tycoon needs a portfolio of properties to manage. This one would be my crown jewel of chaos.
