Pete's Expert Summary
My human has acquired a small, purple creature with an unnervingly vacant smile, permanently encased in what they call a "deluxe ToyBop Brand Box Protector." This is not a toy. It is a tiny, plastic prisoner in a scratch-resistant, UV-blocking cell, designed explicitly to be stared at and never, ever batted under the sofa. The creature itself, some relic of my human’s own kittenhood named "Barney," is frozen in an offer of a hug it can never give. The only potential for amusement lies in the structural integrity of its transparent tomb when it inevitably meets the floor from a great height. Otherwise, it is a complete waste of vertical space that could be better occupied by, well, me.
Key Features
- Funko Pop Barney & Friends - Barney (Hug Time) #145 / 84122 — Gift Set Bundle includes Funko Pop! Retro Toys Cartoon Animation Figure and Funko Compatible ToyBop Brand Box Protector Collector Case (2 items)
- Comes with the upgraded deluxe ToyBop Brand Box Protector — UV and scratch-resistant, acid-free, and built from durable 0.5 mm PET to preserve your collectible’s value and display appeal
- Look for the RMC sticker and the ToyBop logo to Protect your Pop with our deluxe clear protector cases
- Stylized collectible stands about 3 3/4 inches tall, perfect for any super fan or collector!
- Notice: Please verify you receive ToyBop Brand Protectors with your Bundle!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The object arrived with a reverence usually reserved for a particularly succulent piece of poached salmon. The human called it a "collector's item," a term I've learned means "do not touch with your murder mittens." It was a two-step process of disappointment. First, the small purple being was freed from its cardboard box, only to be immediately re-imprisoned in a perfectly clear, hard plastic cube. The human held it up to the light, admiring the way the "UV and scratch-resistant" surface gleamed. I saw only a cage. Inside, the dinosaur’s arms were outstretched, its painted-on smile a mask of silent, plastic agony. I leaped silently onto the bookshelf for a closer inspection, my soft gray paws making no sound. The human had placed it next to other, similar prisoners. I pressed my nose against the case, but the 0.5 mm PET plastic denied me any satisfying scent, offering only the sterile smell of industry. I nudged it gently with my forehead. It didn't yield. This "ToyBop" brand was clearly proud of its work; the box was rigid, a fortress of clarity. The purple inmate simply stared forward, its hug eternally rejected by the very thing meant to "preserve its value." What a pointless existence. My patience, a finite and precious resource, wore thin. A toy that cannot be chewed, chased, or hidden is an affront to the very concept of play. I began to see a different purpose for it. This was not a toy, but a challenge. A test of physics. With a casual flick of my tail to feign disinterest, I positioned my paw. My target was not the creature, but the corner of its prison. I wanted to see if "scratch-resistant" was also "gravity-resistant." A single, calculated shove was all it took. The cube tumbled from the shelf, turning end over end in a silent, slow-motion ballet of my own making. It landed on the rug with a dull, unsatisfying *thump*. The human gasped. I, however, was merely observing the results of my experiment. The box was intact. The prisoner was unharmed, its idiotic expression unchanged. My verdict was clear: the object failed as a toy, failed as a victim, and failed even to make an interesting noise upon its demise. I yawned, showing a flash of pink and fang, and hopped down from the shelf. I gave the fallen idol one last look of disdain before stretching languidly and padding away to find a sunbeam. The human could keep their tiny, well-protected monuments to poor taste. I had important napping to attend to.
