Pete's Expert Summary
So, my human has presented me with this… effigy. It’s a plush caricature of a cat named “Tom,” an apparent celebrity in some digital world I have no time for. This Relsy brand, which sounds dreadfully common, has engineered a 12-inch sentinel designed to mock me. It allegedly makes sixteen different sounds when its stomach is assaulted and, most offensively, has a talkback feature to repeat whatever it hears in a distorted voice, its mouth flapping unnervingly. While the soft plush form might offer a momentary diversion for a vigorous bunny-kick, the sheer auditory assault it promises seems like a profound waste of battery power and a direct threat to my napping schedule. It's a jester, not a peer, and I am not easily amused.
Key Features
- This Official toy has three interactive areas on its Tummy, Hand and Head. Scratch his tummy and activate up to 16 separate sounds! Makes a perfect toy companion!
- Repeats what you say in Toms voice. The mouth moves as he speaks.
- Standing measurements at 12 inches (~30cm) head-to-toe and seating measurements at 8 inches (~20cm).
- Plush Toy Official Dragon I toy, distributed by Relsy UK
- Suitable for ages 3+. Batteries Not included.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The box it arrived in was moderately interesting, but the thing the human pulled from within was an immediate affront. It was a gray creature, but not my distinguished, velvety gray. It was a flat, cartoonish gray, with a grin plastered on its face and eyes so wide they looked like they’d just witnessed the bottom of the food bowl. The human, with that familiar look of hopeful idiocy, placed it on the rug. "Look, Pete! It's Talking Tom!" she chirped, poking its stomach. The creature let out a synthetic-sounding "Hee hee hee!" I flattened my ears. An insult. She then leaned in close and said, "Who's a good kitty?" The imposter's jaw unhinged slightly and a tinny, garbled voice parroted back, "WhO's A gOoD KiTtY?" I stared, my tail giving a single, irritated flick. This was its gimmick? To be an echo for the slow-witted? I stalked forward, my white paws silent on the floor, and gave the toy a tentative pat with one claw slightly extended. It yelped another pre-programmed sound. Pathetic. I was about to turn my back on it forever, deeming it unworthy of even being ignored, when a devious thought began to form in the more sophisticated corners of my mind. I waited until the human was distracted by her glowing rectangle. I crept up to the gray doll, leaned in, and let out the most pathetic, heart-wrenching "Meeeow?" I could muster—the one reserved for tricking her into believing I haven't been fed in weeks. The toy immediately squawked back a squeaky, robotic version: "mEeEoW?" The human’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with concern. She looked at the toy, then at me, as I was already grooming my shoulder with performative nonchalance. A slow, wicked grin spread across my feline soul. This "Tom" was not a toy. It was an alibi. It was a patsy. I could now demand treats, complain about the quality of the water, or mock the dog next door, and this grinning fool would take the fall. I settled onto my favorite velvet cushion, resting my chin on my paws as I watched the inanimate object. It was still a noisy, garish piece of junk, of course. But it was *my* noisy, garish piece of junk. And we had so much wonderful trouble to cause together.
