Bluefun 12V Kids Electric Wiggle Car with Drift Function, 360° Spin, Cool Mist Spray, Bluetooth Music, Interactive LED Lights, USB/MP3, Pedal Drive, 110 LBS Capacity, Ages 3+ (Pink)

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It arrived in a box large enough to be a respectable napping fort, but my human, with a baffling lack of foresight, tore it open to reveal the pieces of a plastic chariot. The assembly was a clumsy affair, a prelude to the cacophony I knew was coming. Once constructed, the "Wiggle Car" sat there, an aggressive pink stain on the otherwise tasteful beige of the living room carpet. My small human, the one with the grabby hands and the high-pitched squeal, was placed upon it. The machine whirred to life. My initial assessment was, regrettably, correct. The thing spun in nauseating circles, accompanied by some tinny, synthesized beat that rattled my sensitive ears. Then came the ultimate insult: the mist. A fine, cool spray erupted from its front, and I flattened myself under the coffee table in disgust. This was not a toy; it was an instrument of chaos, a mobile disaster zone that disrupted the delicate peace of my kingdom. I watched from my shadowy refuge, tail twitching in irritation, as the small human shrieked with a delight I could not begin to comprehend. The day wore on, and my contempt solidified. But then, as twilight painted the windows in shades of bruised plum, the creature revealed its true purpose. The human activated the LED lights. Suddenly, the floor was no longer a floor. It was a swirling galaxy of light. Comets of emerald and sapphire chased nebulas of ruby red across the hardwood. The pink monstrosity itself became irrelevant; it was merely the engine for a silent, frantic ballet on the floorboards, a hunt made of pure energy. My instincts, long dormant under layers of pampering and pâté, screamed. A low crouch. A twitch of the tail. I was no longer a house cat; I was a shadow, a whisper of gray tuxedo hunting pure color. I burst from my hiding place, ignoring the giggling pilot and the offensive music. My paws danced across the floor, batting at a fleeting speck of blue, pouncing on a swirl of green just as it vanished. I was magnificent. The car would spin, and I would counter, intercepting the light-prey it cast upon my domain. The Pink Menace is, in itself, an absurdity. It is loud, occasionally damp, and piloted by an amateur. But as a vessel, a mobile projector for an endless, unpredictable laser light show? For this, it is sublime. I will permit its continued operation, not for the small human's amusement, but for mine. Every predator, after all, requires a worthy adversary, even one made of light.