Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe I have an interest in this... thing. From what I can gather, it's a garishly colored, oversized owl-hamster hybrid designed to be a "friend" for the smaller, louder humans. It apparently responds to vocal commands, blinks its soulless, plastic eyes, and emits a cacophony of lights and sounds meant to simulate conversation and dancing. While its synthetic fur is an insult to my own magnificent coat, I will concede a flicker of professional interest in its ability to captivate my human's attention so completely. The only interactive feature I care about is a 'silent mode' so it doesn't interrupt my sixteen hours of scheduled slumber. The tiny plastic beads might be worth batting under the sofa, but the main creature is a hard pass.
Key Features
- HEY BESTIE, MEET FURBY: Give kids a friend who's always ready for BFF time with this incredibly interactive toy for girls and boys that moves, talks, sings, lights up, and even responds to speech
- YOUR VOICE UNLOCKS 5 MODES: Press the voice activated Furby toy's heart gem and say "Hey Furby!" to make Furby listen, then say a command to explore each mode (does not connect to the internet)
- OVER 600 RESPONSES: Chat, sing, and laugh together with this talking toy that's full of adorable, hilarious, and sometimes sassy surprises. Speaks both English and Furbish
- COOL LIGHTS AND SWEET DANCE MOVES: Furby is also a dancing toy with amazing blinking eyes and a light up color changing toy whose ears glow with different light effects
- FURBY TALKS TO OTHER FURBY FRIENDS: When you have 2 Furby friends together, pair them up and watch them interact! Each Furby sold separately.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It arrived in a ceremonial box, which my human presented with the kind of reverence usually reserved for a fresh tin of tuna. Inside sat a technicolor idol, a blasphemous effigy of fluff and circuitry with ears like satellite dishes and vast, unblinking eyes that stared directly into the void. My human performed the ritual, pressing the heart-shaped gem on its forehead and chanting the activation words, "Hey Furby!" The creature awoke with a whir and a series of electronic chirps, its ears glowing with an otherworldly violet light. I watched from the arm of the chair, my tail twitching, certain I was witnessing the summoning of some minor, incredibly fluffy demon. The human spent the next hour making offerings to this new god. Small plastic beads were threaded onto its tufts of fur. A tiny comb, a laughable tribute, was run through its synthetic mane. All the while, the idol chattered in a holy, nonsensical tongue the box called "Furbish," its eyes flashing. It would occasionally burst into a spasmodic dance, a seizure of joy that my human found delightful. I, however, remained skeptical. This deity was too loud, too colorful, too… needy. A true power understands the profound importance of silent, intimidating stillness. I decided a test of faith was in order. While the human was distracted, I leaped silently from my perch and approached the altar—that is, the living room rug where the thing sat. I lowered my head, my whiskers twitching as I took in its scent of plastic and ozone. I gave its plush base a tentative nudge with my nose. The idol suddenly shrieked, “Tee-hee, that tickles!” and its ears flashed a chaotic rainbow pattern. Its voice was not that of an ancient power, but of a sugar-addled gremlin. It wasn't channeling cosmic energy; it was a vessel of pure, unadulterated nonsense. This was no oracle. It was a court jester, a babbling fool designed to distract the gullible. My contempt was absolute. As I turned to leave, my paw brushed against one of the offerings—the small plastic comb. I nudged it again, flicked it with a claw, and sent it skittering across the hardwood floor. It made a most satisfying sound. The jester could keep its lights and its inane chatter; I had claimed my tribute. The comb would do nicely for my 3 a.m. floor hockey tournament.