Pete's Expert Summary
My human has acquired yet another distraction for her glowing rectangle, this one apparently a "game" involving the creation of half-fish, half-human hybrids called "mermaids." From my vantage point on the arm of the sofa, it appears to be a digital dress-up activity, where she taps the screen to apply various shiny tails, tops, and other gaudy accessories to these creatures. While the complete lack of anything to physically bat, pounce upon, or shred is a significant drawback, the flashing colors and shimmering digital fish tails hold a sliver of potential to be visually stimulating. Still, it primarily seems to be a high-tech method for wasting time that could be better spent preparing my dinner or providing a warm lap.
Key Features
- Perfect for cute mermaid lovers.
- Create cool looks with fancy and fun mermaid fashion.
- Create stunning mermaid looks.
- Fun mermaid games perfect for girls who love fashion and doll dress up.
- Experience the thrill of styling your own cute mermaid princess.
- Choose from a vast selection of mermaid tails, tops, and accessories.
- Select your favorite mermaid doll.
- Dive into the fun of mermaid dress up.
- Make use of a variety of fashion items to design unique mermaid outfits.
- Features tons of customization options.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The affair began as most modern indignities do: with my human utterly captivated by the light emanating from her little glass slab. I was being ignored, a state of affairs I find fundamentally unacceptable. On the screen, a creature with the tail of a fish and the vacant stare of a doll was being subjected to a series of humiliating fashion choices. A neon green tail. A top made of what looked like purple shells. It was an assault on good taste. My initial plan was simple—a protest walk across the device to remind her of her true purpose. As I executed my maneuver, my front left paw landed squarely on the screen. To my surprise, the mermaid’s ridiculous seaweed hairdo was instantly replaced by a cascade of what looked like spun moonlight. The human gasped, "Ooh, I didn't mean to pick that one, but I like it!" I paused, one paw still on the slab. The fool. She thought *she* had done it. A slow, delicious thought began to form in my brilliant mind. I took another deliberate step, my other paw landing on a different section. The creature’s tail flashed from green to a deep, respectable sapphire blue. This was no game for two-leggers. This was an instrument awaiting a true artist. I was the artist. Over the next hour, I orchestrated a symphony of design. A subtle press of my nose chose a coral tiara. A gentle rub of my cheek against the edge scrolled through a selection of tops. I even discovered that a flick of my own tail against the corner of the device could trigger a shower of digital glitter. My human cooed and tapped, believing she was in control, but she was merely the clumsy assistant to my genius, her fingers fumbling where my paws and whiskers worked with deliberate, elegant precision. I have decided this "Dream Dolly Designer" is not a toy, but a tool. A canvas. While the subject matter is, frankly, absurd, the interface is remarkably intuitive for a being of my superior intellect and dexterity. It allows me to impose my will upon the digital world, to correct my human's atrocious aesthetic choices from the shadows. She can have her little game, but we both know, on some level, who the true puppet master is. The product is therefore worthy, not for its intended purpose, but for the secret satisfaction it provides me.
