Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe my life is incomplete without a steady stream of brightly colored objects. This time, they’ve presented me with a fuzzy gray backpack masquerading as a mouse, a rather bold and, I might add, unconvincing impersonation of my natural-born foe. Inside this questionable vessel is a tiny, plastic homunculus, also dressed as a mouse, which I find deeply redundant. The primary appeal, if one can call it that, is the "fuzzy" texture of the backpack itself. It might, perhaps, be suitable for a brief chin rest between more important napping sessions. The doll and its miniature bedroom are clearly a waste of perfectly good plastic that could have been molded into something far more satisfying, like a bottle cap. The fact that there is also a "Khloe Kitty" version is a personal affront I shall not soon forget.
Key Features
- FUNCTIONAL FUZZY MINI BACKPACK: Backpacks have never been this adorable. This miniature, fuzzy backpack looks like a mouse and has molded straps for on-the-go play. Includes one mini fashion doll!
- MOUSE-INSPIRED MINI DOLL: Meet Marisa Mouse! She is all about taking time for a selfie and saying cheese! She stands at 4" tall, has long wavy gray and black hair, with a mouse-inspired fuzzy hat. She wears a hoodie with "Cheesy" printed on it, skirt, and molded boots.
- OPENS UP FOR EXPANDED PLAY: Open the backpack to reveal a bedroom scene matching Marisa Mouse's-inspired style. Fit up to four Na Na Na Surprise mini dolls inside!
- TAKE ON-THE-GO: When playtime is over, pack up and take on-the-go for a new adventure.
- WHAT'S INCLUDED: backpack, doll, outfit, shoes, doll stand
- TWO STYLES TO COLLECT: Collect both Marisa Mouse and Khloe Kitty!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The case landed on my sunbeam with a soft thud. My human, the client, gestured towards the evidence: a plush, gray… thing. It had the ears and nose of a mouse, but the scale was all wrong, and it smelled of a sterile factory, not a dusty field. “A tough one, Pete,” the human’s tone suggested. I gave a slow, deliberate blink. This was my territory, my beat. Any new character on this block had to go through me. I circled the suspect, my tuxedo fur immaculate against the gaudy living room rug. It was a front, I could tell. A fuzzy exterior hiding a secret. This wasn't just a toy; it was a Trojan Mouse. My partner—the human—seemed to get my signal and unzipped the mouse’s back. The facade fell away, revealing a garish pink bedroom, a scene of cloying domesticity. And there she was, the dame at the center of it all. “Marisa Mouse,” the file read. Four inches of trouble with vacant eyes, long gray hair, and a hoodie that screamed “Cheesy.” A real piece of work. She stood there on a little plastic stand, acting innocent. I knew her type. I approached cautiously, sniffing the air. No fear, just the faint scent of vinyl. With a flick of my paw, I sent her toppling. She didn't even put up a fight. A pushover. I conducted a thorough search of the premises, which is to say, I stuck my head inside the backpack. The miniature bed was useless, the tiny accessories beneath my notice. The dame, Marisa, lay on her side on the floor, looking just as empty as before. The whole operation was a bust. There was no conspiracy here, no hidden cache of contraband catnip, no grand scheme to overthrow my dominion. It was just a hollow mouse filled with hollow promises. I rendered my final verdict with a pointed yawn. The case was closed. Marisa Mouse and her cheap bedroom were relegated to the evidence locker under the sofa, where forgotten things go to collect dust bunnies. The fuzzy backpack, however… that was a different story. It was soft, after all. The plush ears were perfect for rubbing my face against. I claimed it as a spoil of the investigation, a comfortable, if slightly undignified, pillow for my long afternoons of contemplation. It wasn't justice, but it was the next best thing: comfort.
