Pete's Expert Summary
Honestly, my human must think I have an endless supply of patience. This object, a "Furblet," appears to be a shrunken, fluff-covered noisemaker designed to inflict auditory torture. It's from the "Furby" lineage, a clan known for its unsettling, wide-eyed stares and nonsensical babbling. This particular specimen, the "Mer-May," promises "ocean music," which I suspect is just a series of tinny, electronic plinks meant to mimic water but failing spectacularly. On one paw, its small size and plush exterior could make it a passable victim for a vigorous batting session. The pop-up ears and keychain clip present a flicker of potential for interactive pouncing. On the other, its 45-plus sounds are 45-plus potential interruptions to my meticulously scheduled naps. It's a high-risk, low-reward proposition that teeters precariously over the abyss of "utterly annoying."
Key Features
- MER-MAY THE MINI FURBLETS FRIEND: Furblets are mini Furby toys with their own musical personalities and fur designs! They're great small gifts for stocking stuffers, rewards for kids, or even desk toys
- PLAYS MUSIC AND SPEAKS FURBISH: Mer-May is a music toy who plays undersea style music and says funny phrases in Furby language (does not speak human languages). Includes 3 A76/LR44 button cell batteries
- 3 WAYS TO ACTIVATE 45+ SOUNDS: Press the beak for fun feeding noises and tap the heart gem for music. The top of the head powers on and off and activates fun Furbish phrases (ships in try me mode, see instructions)
- KEYCHAIN CLIP FOR ON THE GO: This 2 inch (5 centimeter) small plush toy for girls and boys has a removable keychain clip for backpacks or other travel bags. Surface clean only
- PEEKABOO EARS POP OPEN: Fold one or both ears down and press the head to make them pop back up to reveal the character
- HARMONIZE WITH OTHER FURBLETS (SOLD SEPARATELY): Furblets come with different colors and music style personalities. Collect more than one and make them sing together!
- WORKS WITH FURBY, TOO (SOLD SEPARATELY): If you have a big Furby, activate Furdar mode to see what Furby has to say about their "dee noo-lahs" (little friends)
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The case landed on my sunbeam at precisely 14:00 hours. The Perp was small, a two-inch tuft of garish purple and teal fur, with eyes so large and vacant they could swallow a soul. The Warden—my human—called it "Mer-May." I called it Suspect Zero. It sat there, silent, its plastic beak shut tight, a gaudy heart-shaped gem gleaming on its chest. It was playing dumb, but I've seen its type before. All fluff, no substance, and hiding a racket that could wake the dead. I decided to start the interrogation. My initial approach was a classic soft-paw, hard-claw technique. A gentle nudge to the top of its head. *POP*. Two ridiculous ears shot up from its scalp as it let out a stream of gibberish—"Furbish," they called it on the street. A confession? Unlikely. More like a cheap trick to disorient me. I moved on to the motive. I tapped the heart gem, the source of its power. A cascade of dreadful, synthesized "undersea" notes filled my pristine air. It was a sound so offensive, so utterly devoid of artistry, it could only be a diversion. I tapped its beak next, and it made a series of pathetic slurping noises. Trying to win me over with the promise of food? A rookie mistake. The interrogation was going nowhere. The suspect was just a fountain of meaningless noise and cheap parlor tricks. I was about to dismiss it, to sentence it to a lifetime under the sofa collecting dust bunnies, when I saw it: the metallic glint of the keychain clip. The whole case snapped into focus. This wasn't a companion. It wasn't a musical prodigy. It was a professional dangler. Its entire existence was designed around being hung from a precarious height, swinging back and forth, practically begging for a well-aimed swat. The sounds, the pop-up ears—they were just window dressing for its true, noble purpose. My verdict was swift. Guilty. Guilty of being a surprisingly decent toy, provided one ignores all of its primary functions. I delivered the sentence immediately. Hooking a claw into the keychain loop, I dragged Suspect Zero to the edge of the cat tree, held it over the precipice for a dramatic moment, and then administered a perfectly executed batting. It soared through the air, blessedly silent for a moment before landing with a soft thud. Justice, in its purest form, had been served. The case was closed.
