Post by Dave on Nov 7, 2007 12:01:54 GMT
From the old board. Very amusing.
My Hour with Ultimate Bumblebee featuring Bad Language
- Graham Thomson
History, they say, has a habit of repeating itself.
Several years ago, when Beast Machines was at its peak, Hasbro released its flagship toy: Supreme Cheetor. It was big, yellow with electronic lights and sounds. And it was based on the "popular" character. It was also shit.
Now it's 2007 and Hasbro have released Ultimate Bumblebee. The popular character. Which, ironically, is big, yellow and has electronic lights and sounds.
My Hour with Ultimate Bumblebee featuring Bad Language began on the way home from work yesterday with a trip to my local Toys R Us. I was looking for Ironhide and Starscream. There was a girl in uniform putting out some "Ultimate Bumblebee" toys. "Interactive!" it said. "Bumblebee comes to life!" it promised. "£79.99!" it mocked.
I must have blacked out because before I knew it I was at home at the table opening "Ultimate Bumblebee" with my Switch card sobbing in the corner having been violated to the tune of £79.99.
Ultimate Bumblebee was interactive, he did come to life. He even asked for my permission to speak. But poor Bumblebee had wings and chest panels that got in the way of its shoulders and when he tried to aim his weapon the gears inside screeched and clicked. Was he in pain? His eyes glowed with light-piped sadness. And then, inexplicably, he fell down. His loose hip joints gave way and he fell on his back, wings and arms flailing, eyes flashing and strange 80s music playing. Is this what happens when angels die?
And so, to alleviate his suffering I tried to get Bumblebee into car mode. After 20 minutes of clicking and bending and snapping, we managed it. He seemed to enjoy the experience as he continued to play different types of music as we went. I did not, however. It was a frustrating process and the plastic was fragile, looking like it could shatter. I said words like fuck, bastard and c*nt in frustration.
It seemed that Bumblebee preferred to be in car mode. As he rolled on the floor, his engine came to life, the faster he was pushed, the higher-pitched his revs became. And when he stopped, his brake lights came on and he made screeching sounds. I was endeared to his car mode. He played more music. We were happy.
But he didn't want to speak to me as a car. I think he was hiding, pretending not to be a robot. So I transformed him back. Reverse transformation was an even more painful process than before. I swore again while he played music.
As a robot again, he started talking. But again his wings and chest stopped him from moving properly and again his loose hips made him fall again.
I wanted to love Ultimate Bumblebee, I wanted to be his friend and let him protect me from the Decepticons. But while the will was there, there was no way. For all his impressive features and gadgets and electronics, he was badly designed and poorly constructed. He was great as a car, but awful as a robot.
I returned him to Toys R Us within the hour and, to their credit, they were happy to take him back and refund my money. As I turned my back, Ultimate Bumblebee, from his tie-wrap prison, sang "Whip it" one last time. He eyes glowed an icy white then faded to nothing as he was was shoved under the Customer Service counter.
And I never saw Ultimate Bumblebee again. Piece of shit.
My Hour with Ultimate Bumblebee featuring Bad Language
- Graham Thomson
History, they say, has a habit of repeating itself.
Several years ago, when Beast Machines was at its peak, Hasbro released its flagship toy: Supreme Cheetor. It was big, yellow with electronic lights and sounds. And it was based on the "popular" character. It was also shit.
Now it's 2007 and Hasbro have released Ultimate Bumblebee. The popular character. Which, ironically, is big, yellow and has electronic lights and sounds.
My Hour with Ultimate Bumblebee featuring Bad Language began on the way home from work yesterday with a trip to my local Toys R Us. I was looking for Ironhide and Starscream. There was a girl in uniform putting out some "Ultimate Bumblebee" toys. "Interactive!" it said. "Bumblebee comes to life!" it promised. "£79.99!" it mocked.
I must have blacked out because before I knew it I was at home at the table opening "Ultimate Bumblebee" with my Switch card sobbing in the corner having been violated to the tune of £79.99.
Ultimate Bumblebee was interactive, he did come to life. He even asked for my permission to speak. But poor Bumblebee had wings and chest panels that got in the way of its shoulders and when he tried to aim his weapon the gears inside screeched and clicked. Was he in pain? His eyes glowed with light-piped sadness. And then, inexplicably, he fell down. His loose hip joints gave way and he fell on his back, wings and arms flailing, eyes flashing and strange 80s music playing. Is this what happens when angels die?
And so, to alleviate his suffering I tried to get Bumblebee into car mode. After 20 minutes of clicking and bending and snapping, we managed it. He seemed to enjoy the experience as he continued to play different types of music as we went. I did not, however. It was a frustrating process and the plastic was fragile, looking like it could shatter. I said words like fuck, bastard and c*nt in frustration.
It seemed that Bumblebee preferred to be in car mode. As he rolled on the floor, his engine came to life, the faster he was pushed, the higher-pitched his revs became. And when he stopped, his brake lights came on and he made screeching sounds. I was endeared to his car mode. He played more music. We were happy.
But he didn't want to speak to me as a car. I think he was hiding, pretending not to be a robot. So I transformed him back. Reverse transformation was an even more painful process than before. I swore again while he played music.
As a robot again, he started talking. But again his wings and chest stopped him from moving properly and again his loose hips made him fall again.
I wanted to love Ultimate Bumblebee, I wanted to be his friend and let him protect me from the Decepticons. But while the will was there, there was no way. For all his impressive features and gadgets and electronics, he was badly designed and poorly constructed. He was great as a car, but awful as a robot.
I returned him to Toys R Us within the hour and, to their credit, they were happy to take him back and refund my money. As I turned my back, Ultimate Bumblebee, from his tie-wrap prison, sang "Whip it" one last time. He eyes glowed an icy white then faded to nothing as he was was shoved under the Customer Service counter.
And I never saw Ultimate Bumblebee again. Piece of shit.
