Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has presented me with this... apparatus. The "Franklin Sports Volleyball + Badminton Set," they call it. From what I can gather, it's a collection of poles, strings, and a large, porous barrier intended to facilitate human flailing in my backyard. The entire endeavor seems dreadfully energetic and will undoubtedly disrupt the delicate ecosystem of sunbeams and napping spots I have so carefully cultivated. However, my professional curiosity is piqued by two components: the so-called "birdies," which possess a huntable, feathery silhouette, and the taut guy ropes, which seem to hold a certain musical potential for a cat of my discerning tastes. The rest of it—the running, the shouting, the garish volleyball—is a lamentable waste of perfectly good grass.
Key Features
- COMBO SET: Play beach volleyball or badminton in the backyard or in the park; Whether you’re at a family barbecue or having a get-together with friends, this starter volleyball and badminton combo set is everything you need for outdoor fun.
- EVERYTHING INCLUDED: This set includes (4) badminton rackets, (2) nylon birdies, (6) stakes and guy ropes, (1) volleyball, (1) ball pump and needle, and (1) convenient carry case to hold everything
- EASY SETUP: The easy-to-assemble net system includes a 1" diameter steel pole that adjusts from 5’1" to 8' feet high so it’s a great set for all ages to enjoy; The net assembles to 20' x 1.5' so it's big enough for many players to play
- PORTABLE: This set is designed for easy setup made to last season after season for grab-and-go fun
- OUTDOOR FUN: This complete badminton and volleyball set lets you enjoy these classic sports nearly anywhere; Enjoy hours of fun and create memories that last a lifetime
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The humans dragged the long, dark bag onto my lawn like a conquered serpent. I observed from the cool slate of the patio, my tail giving a single, irritated flick. A flurry of activity followed—the clanking of poles, the unfurling of a ridiculously large net. They were erecting a wall, a temporary and deeply offensive border that bisected my kingdom. With much grunting and pulling, they secured the structure with a series of ropes staked directly into *my* earth. An ugly, functional piece of engineering, I mused, and retired to the shade of a lilac bush to pointedly groom my white ascot in protest. Their "game" began. It was a cacophony of thwacks, yelps of exertion, and the rhythmic *thump-thump* of the ball. All terribly tedious. I was about to drift into a well-deserved nap when a stray shot struck the net with a sharp *TWANG*. A shiver of vibration traveled down the pole and along the guy rope nearest my hiding spot. The rope, which I had previously dismissed, trembled and emitted a low, resonant hum. My ears, instruments of far greater sensitivity than any the humans possess, swiveled in its direction. My grooming ceased. I crept forward, silent as a shadow, drawn by this subtle, secret sound in the midst of their clamor. I reached the rope, a thin, white cord stretched as taut as a hunter's bowstring. I extended a single, curious paw and gave it a gentle pat. *Thrummm*. A delightful sensation tingled through my pads. Emboldened, I gave it a harder pluck with one extended claw. *THRRRUMMMMM*. The note was deep, sonorous, the very pulse of the lawn itself. The humans, lost in their clumsy ballet, were completely oblivious. I was no longer a mere spectator; I was a musician. I moved from one rope to another, plucking my bass notes, composing a minimalist symphony to counter their frantic game. The *thwack* of the ball was my percussion, their shouts the chaotic brass section, and my ropes, my beautiful ropes, were the string section holding the entire mad orchestra together. They eventually tired, as simple creatures do, and collapsed into their lawn chairs, leaving their equipment standing sentinel in the fading light. The yard fell silent, save for the chirp of a cricket. I sat by my instrument, tail wrapped neatly around my paws. Let them have their graceless games. They provided the noise, but I, Pete, provided the art. This Franklin Sports contraption, I decided, was not a toy for me, not in the traditional sense. It was a stage, and the guy ropes were my cello. A surprisingly worthy addition to my kingdom's ensemble, provided I am never, ever expected to fetch the ball.
