Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in a fit of what I can only assume is nostalgia for their own kittenhood, has procured a pair of plastic effigies. It appears to be a large, spiky blue creature—a poor imitation of a bird, perhaps—and a small bipedal accomplice with questionable blonde hair. The marketing babble calls them "Dreamworks Dragons" and boasts of "movable limbs" and "real feel wings." For me, this translates to multiple articulated points for strategic disassembly and a textured surface to test my teeth against. The smaller figure is likely to be batted under the nearest piece of heavy furniture within minutes, but the larger beast, the "Deadly Nadder," might present a mild, fleeting challenge before it too succumbs to gravity and joins the dust bunnies in the Under-the-Sofa Realm. It seems a frivolous use of plastic, but I suppose it could serve as a temporary distraction between naps.
Key Features
- Dragon & Viking Rider: Create thrilling How To Train Your Dragon adventures with a 3-inch Astrid action figure and 10-inch Deadly Nadder dragon toy, with real feel dragon wings and movable limbs
- Genuine Movie Styling: Attach Astrid to Deadly Nadder using the saddle pegs, before flying off on a thrilling mission
- Let Their Imagination Soar: Engage the imagination with pretend play dragon toys to create all-new adventures with your favorite dragon
- Collect Them All: Build your dragons collection and assemble all your other favorite heroic Dragon & Viking duos from How to Train Your Dragon
- GIRL & BOY TOYS: Dreamworks Dragons How To Train Your Dragon action figures and plushies make great holiday or birthday gifts for kids ages 4 and up. Toys for kids and kids at heart
- Includes: 1 Dragon, 1 Viking
- Covered by the Spin Master Care Commitment. See below for full details
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The operation began at 14:00 hours. The target package was deposited by the Handler (my human) directly in the center of my primary surveillance zone—the living room rug. I observed from my command post on the armchair, my tail twitching as I processed the intelligence. The assets were a duo: a small, fixed-stare operative I designated "Blondie," and her oversized, blue reptilian transport, codenamed "Spike." Their mission was clearly infiltration, but their methods were clumsy, their plastic sheen a dead giveaway against the soft fibers of my territory. I descended with the silent grace befitting a field agent of my caliber, initiating a slow, circular patrol around the subjects. Blondie was the weak link. A single, gentle nudge from my nose sent her toppling over with a pathetic, hollow clack. She offered no resistance, her painted-on defiance a laughable facade. Clearly, she was merely a decoy. I dismissed her with a flick of my paw, sending her skittering toward the dark abyss beneath the television stand. One down. My full attention then turned to Spike. This was the real threat. It was large, imposing, and its "real feel wings" were a tactical variable I had to account for. I initiated contact with a tentative paw, testing the texture. It was a rubbery, slightly yielding material—a decent forgery, I’ll admit, but it lacked the authentic warmth of true prey. I began a structural analysis, batting at a leg joint. It moved. Interesting. A weakness. I prodded its garish yellow snout, then delivered a swift, decisive strike to its flank. The entire apparatus clattered onto its side, wings splayed in surrender. The engagement was over. The intruders had been neutralized. They were crude, silent, and posed no genuine threat to my authority. However, they were not without their uses. The transport, Spike, had a particularly satisfying heft when pushed off the edge of the coffee table, and its tail made for an adequate chew toy when I felt the need to exercise my jaw. My final verdict: while they are unworthy of being called adversaries, they will serve as acceptable training dummies. For now, they can stay. Under close supervision, of course.
