Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has acquired a pair of garish orange plastic bricks from a brand called 'Topsung.' Apparently, these are "Two Way Radios," devices for them to shout at each other from different rooms, or worse, from the Great Outdoors where there are no sofas. They are allegedly lightweight and feature a "hands-free" function, which is particularly insulting; their hands should be free for petting me, not for being clipped to a belt while they "hike." I suppose the attached lanyard could provide a moment's distraction, and their obsession with the crackling sounds might mean they stay in one place for a bit. Still, the potential for high-pitched "low battery" alerts seems a tremendous waste of perfectly good napping ambiance.
Key Features
- 【Smart System】: Auto squelch system, Auto monitor function, Auto memory function, Auto scan function, Auto power saving, Low battery alert
- 【Main Parameters】：22 main channels and 121 privacy codes(2662 Combinations), Long range in different terrains(Up to 1/3/5 miles), Long standby time(Up to 3-4 days), Power by 3 AA batteries(Not included)
- 【Friendly Design】：Palm size, Lightweight(2.9oz), Hands free function(VOX), Keypad lock(Channel lock), Adjustable power and volume, LCD screen with backlight, Belt clip with lanyard hole, 2.5mm Earpiece jack with dust plug, Durable and environmentally friendly materials(ABS)
- 【Various Occasions】：Topsung adult walkie talkies are easy to operate and carry even for kids. So they are suitable for indoor and outdoor activities, such as home, mall, cs games, camping, hiking, cycling, cruise ship, road trip, etc. With Topsung adult walkie talkies, you can keep talking with all family members or all your travel partners at the same time
- 【Professional Service】：All Topsung adult walkie talkies have got the latest FCC certification, so you can return for replacement with any reason in 30 days. Please contact us by email without hesitation if you have any question, we will not let you down
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The silence of the apartment was, for a brief and glorious moment, perfect. The sunbeam was precisely positioned, my nap was reaching peak REM, and the human was out, probably purchasing more subpar kibble. My peace, however, was shattered by a newcomer on the end table. It was one of the orange bricks. An ugly, plastic thing that offended my refined aesthetic sensibilities. I gave it a cursory sniff. It smelled of nothing but factory indifference. Useless. I settled back into my sunbeam, twitching an ear in its general direction as a sign of ultimate dismissal. Hours later, a primal need arose from deep within my belly. The food bowl was a desolate wasteland, a ceramic monument to neglect. I leaped from the sofa and let out a sharp, interrogative "Meeeooww?!" directed at the empty kitchen. In response, the orange brick on the table answered with a sudden, violent crackle of static. *Ksshhhht*. I froze, my tail instantly a bottle brush. What sorcery was this? I stared at the inert object. Tentatively, I let out a softer, more plaintive "mew." Nothing. It remained silent. A fluke, perhaps. I cleared my throat, summoned my most commanding, room-filling yowl, the one that signals imminent starvation. *KSSHHHHHT!* The brick roared back with static, louder this time. And from the human's bedroom down the hall, I heard a faint, identical crackle. A slow, pleased rumble began in my chest. This was not a toy to be batted or chewed. This was an amplifier. A conduit. The human had unwittingly provided me with a broadcast system. I was no longer limited to yelling at an empty kitchen. I could now project my displeasure, my needs, my very essence, into multiple rooms simultaneously. I hopped onto the end table and peered at the little screen, the strange glyphs meaningless. It didn't matter. I didn't need to understand its language; it was learning to understand mine. When the human finally returned, they found me sitting regally beside the orange device, the very picture of innocence. They picked it up, fiddling with the knobs, a confused look on their face. "Weird," they muttered, "must be some kind of interference." As they walked toward the kitchen, I waited until they were just out of sight and let out a short, crisp "Mrrow." The brick in their hand spat a burst of static, and I heard them jump. Oh, this was far better than any feather wand or laser dot. This Topsung device was not a plaything. It was an instrument of power, a scepter for my reign. It is, I have decided, completely and utterly worthy.
