Pete's Expert Summary
So, my human has presented me with this… *implement*. It’s from a brand called Tamiya, which I understand makes toys for clumsy giants who enjoy gluing tiny, foul-smelling plastic bits together. This particular object is a "Fine Craft Handsaw," which is a preposterous collection of words. It has a dull gray handle and two interchangeable metal slivers with teeth, which are a laughable imitation of my own formidable canines. The alleged purpose is to cut their little plastic models with "minimum effort" and a "clean edge." While I appreciate the concept of minimum effort, the only construction project I endorse is the building of a taller, sun-drenched cat tree. This is a tool, not a toy, and its only conceivable use for me would be as a slightly interesting, shiny object to stare at for three seconds before I fall asleep.
Key Features
- This small tool is exceptionally useful in the construction and modification of plastic models, Mini 4WD kits and so on.
- The fine teeth on the blade ensure that the saw cuts with minimum effort and leaves a clean edge when done.
- Blade lengths: 46mm (wide blade), 43mm (narrow blade).
- Comes with a plastic case for storing blades safely.
- Blade material: Carbon tool steel SK95 (0.35mm thickness)
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The object was laid upon the rug, a sacrificial offering of gray plastic and sheathed steel. My human, the ever-hopeful simpleton, wiggled it. I responded with a slow, deliberate blink, the highest form of acknowledgment I was willing to grant this pathetic display. It was a handle attached to nothing. A promise of future disappointment. Then, with a series of fumbling clicks, the human opened a small plastic case and attached a thin, toothed blade. It glinted under the lamp, a sliver of captured starlight. I must admit, the glint was of a respectable quality. My human, seeking to demonstrate its purpose, retrieved one of those plastic sticks—the scaffolding, I believe, for one of their miniature war machines. They held the tiny saw to it. I was expecting a crude, grating sound, the auditory equivalent of cheap, dry kibble. Instead, there was only a soft, whispery *shhhhffff*. The plastic parted as if by magic, leaving an edge so smooth and clean it offended me. Humans are not supposed to be capable of such finesse. They bragged in their reviews that it was like "a hot knife through butter," a typically food-obsessed and clumsy analogy. I did not pounce. I did not bat at it. Such actions are for kittens and fools. Instead, a new and far more sophisticated idea began to form in my mind. I watched the human make another effortless cut, and I no longer saw a model-making tool. I saw a valet's instrument. I pictured that blade, with its carbon steel teeth and surgical precision, being used for a higher purpose. Imagine it, not on plastic, but on a prime cut of seared ahi tuna, gliding through the flesh to create perfectly uniform, bite-sized morsels. Imagine it being used to delicately score the skin on a roasted duck breast just for me. This wasn't a toy for *me*; it was a tool for the *staff* to better serve me. My final verdict settled in my mind as the human packed the saw away, oblivious to the grand culinary destiny I had envisioned for it. It is, by itself, a useless object for my direct entertainment. However, as an instrument with the potential to elevate my dining experience from merely excellent to transcendent, it is an acceptable, even necessary, addition to the household. It is not worthy of my play, but it has earned my approval. Now, if I can just communicate the concept of tuna sashimi to the slow-witted oaf who operates it.
