Pete's Expert Summary
Ah, another piece of molded plastic designed to distract the noisy human kitten. This "DX Ninja Battle Morpher" appears to be a gauntlet of some sort, a trifecta of questionable utility: a morpher, a claw, and a pop-up sword. The primary function seems to be making a racket and encouraging the small human to wave their arm about in a manner that threatens my nap sovereignty. While the concept of a claw is respectable, and the small, throwable "Ninja Stars" show some promise for being batted into the void beneath the furniture, the overall package seems loud, cumbersome, and entirely too attached to a human to be of any real, personal use to me. It's a spectacle, not a proper toy.
Key Features
- Replace with new batteries upon initial use for best product performance
- Unleash the power of the Ninja Stars with the Power Rangers DX Ninja Battle Morpher; Morpher and Battle Gear in one.
- This Morpher has hidden weapons for three unique modes: sword mode, claw mode and morpher mode – it's three epic battle gear items in one; features automatic pop-up sword.
- Connect any of the Ninja Stars to the Morpher to activate unique sound effects; the DX Ninja Battle Morpher comes with 2 Ninja Stars.
- Additional Ninja Stars are included in many items across the Power Rangers Ninja Steel toy line (sold separately) and are cross‑compatible with Ninja Steel Role Play toys (sold separately).
- 100+ Ninja Stars available throughout the year; collect them all to unlock every feature and find your power; requires 3 LR44 batteries (included).
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The Unboxing was, as usual, an affront to dignity. The human child, whose name I believe is "No-Don't-Touch-That," tore into the cardboard with the ferocity of a starved badger. From the wreckage emerged a gaudy contraption of red, black, and gold plastic. It was strapped to the child's wrist, and I watched from the safety of the sofa's highest cushion, my tail a metronome of pure disdain. The child shrieked a phrase I’m told is "It's Morphin Time!" and slammed a small, star-shaped token into the device. Instead of the simple, grating beep I expected, a bizarre symphony of electronic noise filled the air, followed by a synthesized voice booming, *"Lion Fire! ROAR!"* The sound vibrated not through my ears, but through the very pads of my paws, a strange and resonant frequency. The child, oblivious to the cosmic disturbance, then fumbled with a latch. With a sharp *click-clack*, a set of plastic talons sprang forth from the side. *Claw mode*, the box had declared. Claws. A fundamental truth of the universe. I narrowed my eyes. This was not a toy. It was a crude imitation of perfection. My perfection. Then, the true test. With another flick of the child's wrist, a silver-painted plastic blade shot out from the front with a satisfying *shiiing*. It was comically short, utterly harmless, but the *suddenness* of its appearance was noteworthy. The child waved it about, creating a blur of motion. My hunter's instinct, long dormant from a morning of dedicated napping, twitched. The claw was a challenge. The pop-up sword was an invitation. The loud, booming voice was a war cry. This was not a plaything for a clumsy human kitten; it was a gauntlet, thrown down directly at me. My human glanced over, a foolish grin on her face. "Isn't that loud, Pete?" she asked. Loud? It was a declaration of war. I accepted. With a grace she could never comprehend, I slid from my cushion, my gray form a low, silken shadow against the floor. My target was not the child, but the gauntlet itself. I would stalk this plastic pretender. I would learn its rhythms, its sudden movements, its cacophonous roars. And when the moment was right, I would pounce, disabling the pop-up blade with a single, perfectly placed paw. It was an unworthy opponent, yes, but its insolence required a response. The house would have only one master of claw and stealth.
