Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to have acquired a bulk shipment of what can only be described as long-range instruments of aquatic terror. These "JOYIN" brand devices are essentially brightly colored plastic cannons designed to propel water—my mortal enemy—at a significant distance. The packaging boasts of a dozen of these menaces, a simple pull-and-push firing mechanism accessible even to the smallest and most chaotic of humans, and a horrifyingly effective range of up to thirty-five feet. While I suppose there might be some grim satisfaction in watching the clumsy bipeds douse each other into sputtering submission, the high potential for collateral dampness on my magnificent tuxedo coat makes this entire enterprise a categorical threat to my well-being and a profound waste of a perfectly good sunbeam.
Key Features
- SUPER VALUE PACK. Our Water Blaster Set includes 12 Packs of 16.5” water guns in different colors. Suit for kids above 36 months
- EASY TO USE. Easy to fill and shoot. Pull back the handle of the water squirter to load the cannon with water, This is gonna last you many more summers of fun and excitement.
- LONG SHOOTING RANGE. Shoot water up to 35 feet. The more pump pressure you give, the longer distance you can shoot.
- PREMIUM QUALITY. Made of high quality plastic. Designed to be leak-free and easy-to-grip handles which are friendly to children.
- Extremely Fun. Our Water Shooters Set brings the perfect Summer spirit to your beach trip or pool party! Fun for outdoor Play period in hot summer, have a great water battle in a swimming pool, beach, yard or garden!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
Field report, day 742 of my observation of the Human Colony. Hostiles have acquired new armaments. From my elevated surveillance post on the kitchen windowsill, I witnessed the Alpha Male unbox a dozen long, garishly colored cylinders. The container identified the manufacturer as "JOYIN," a name I can only assume is a form of psychological warfare, for the objects themselves portend no joy for me. These are not mere trinkets; their 16.5-inch length and solid plastic construction suggest a serious, tactical application. My initial assessment: a coordinated escalation of household absurdity. I maintained my covert position as the Alpha initiated a field test. He approached the outdoor water-spout, a crude but effective liquid refueling station, and performed the priming ritual. He submerged the muzzle of one of the orange cylinders, pulled back a handle, and the weapon drank deeply. The "leak-free" design, a feature noted on the packaging, proved distressingly accurate. There was no tell-tale drip, no warning of the devastation it was built to unleash. The simplicity of the mechanism was its most terrifying quality; even the small, shrieking juvenile of the family unit could, and undoubtedly would, wield this power. The target was a defenseless rose bush at the far edge of the lawn. The Alpha braced himself, then thrust the handle forward. A coherent, high-velocity stream of pure, unadulterated wetness erupted from the device, arcing across the yard and striking the unsuspecting flora with a sharp *splat*. I measured the distance with my eye; it had to be nearly thirty-five feet. A cold dread washed over me, a feeling far worse than any actual water. Thirty-five feet. The sun-warmed patio, the top of the fence, even the low-hanging branch of the oak tree—all my prime napping territories were now within range. I retreated from the window, my mission complete. My verdict is absolute. These are not toys. They are a clear and present danger to my dignity, my dryness, and my fundamental right to an afternoon nap. They are unworthy of my attention as objects of play, but as instruments of chaos, they have earned my wary respect. The summer, I fear, is about to become a long and very damp campaign of strategic avoidance. I must now recalculate all my patrol routes.
