Kids.Woot : One Day, You’ll Understand (SM)

Contains No Tinfoil – OR DOES IT?

No, hon, don’t be afraid. This isn’t like when Uncle Rodney’s hat talks to him.

For one thing, when this Yo! Gabba Gabba Magic Dance Hat talks to you, other people can hear it. For another thing, it doesn’t have anything to say about fluoridation of the water supply or the Bretton Woods Agreement.

No, all this hat wants to talk about is dancing. Let the voice of DJ Lance Rock guide you through his favorite dance moves. Start dancing on your own and activate the music. Or play a little game of “DJ Lance Rock Says”: run, hop, or walk on his command, and stop when he tells you to freeze. It’s OK to do what this hat says, honey. It doesn’t mean you’re cra- er, eccentric, like Uncle Rodney.

But listen, hon? If this Magic Dance Hat ever starts telling you to do, um, Uncle Rodney-type things – like, you know, stockpiling crossbow bolts or learning to raise pigeons for food – uh, you be sure and tell Mommy, OK?

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Fast Enough That We Can Fly Away

Great moments in toy marketing: “Fires Up To 1,000 Scale MPH!”

Yes, that phrase is touted front-and-center on the box of this GX Racers Motorized Multi-Launcher. The hope is that inattentive shoppers will pounce, expecting to shoot the four included GX Racer cars at four-digit speeds. Just to help that (mis)perception along, “Fires”, “1,000” and “MPH” are in eye-popping yellow, with the key word – “scale” – in unassuming white.

Can’t blame a guy for trying, we guess. But are there really toy-car enthusiasts that dense? What’s the overlap between people with credit cards and people who believe that a toy car can break the sound barrier? Not huge, we imagine.

Still, we’d hate for them to be disappointed when they discover that their GX Racers can only break the scale sound barrier, producing only cute little replica sonic booms. So we’ll state it clearly: “1,000 scale MPH” means that if these were full-size cars racing at the same relative speed, they’d reach 1,000 MPH. But of course, they aren’t, so they won’t.

Now you know. Now you can enjoy the GX Racers Motorized Multi-Launcher’s many fun features – the way the cars race across the included 15-foot tightrope, the many stunt possibilities inherent in this toy, the way it can launch up to five cars at once – without illusions.

And if you still think these cars can go 1,000 MPH, well, we suppose we’ll still take your money.

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Super Old or Super AWESOME?

These NFL Gladiators of the Gridiron action figures are a little outdated, it’s true. But who’s going to care more, you or the kid playing with them?

For instance, most kids don’t care that Shaun Alexander, Rudy Johnson, and Marvin Harrison have retired. What does retirement mean on the playing field of a child’s fantasy? They can still play game after game at Imagination Stadium, after all. So what if Jason Taylor, Robert Gallery, and Jeremiah Trotter are wearing a slightly outdated version of their current team jerseys? A better question would be, will their huge muscles and pose-ability be enough to stop the Dreaded Mercurian Overlord From Outer Space from sucking out the brains of everyone on Earth? The fact that T.J. Houshmandzadeh and Jake Plummer don’t play for the teams their official licensed jerseys and helmets represent doesn’t matter in the land of make-believe, parents, especially when they are called upon to protect the kingdom of Footballia against Über-tron and legion of Shadow-bots with their removable footballs! And while the fact the Jeremy Shockey and Jonathon Vilma are playing in today’s big Super Bowl game as Saints might excite them for a second, I’m willing to bet their performance in the Ultra Colossal Time Bowl of 20XX, the one bowl game that decides the fate of the very universe, will be a little more important than that.

So, for a moment, just disregard the slight inaccuracies when choosing one of these NFL Gladiator figures and think about the kids. With a little love and a bit of creativity, the possibilities hidden within their outdatedness are endless.

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The Smallest Wookie

There are bullies everywhere, even in a galaxy far, far away.

There are bullies everywhere, even in a galaxy far, far away.

“RaowworRUHROaarowror!”

“Aw, what’s wrong my little Wookie buddy? What do you mean all the other kids are jerks?”

“RRooRAWroaaRaH raRAOorh Rawr.”

“Oh, I see. Playing “Keep Away”, huh? They made you stand in the middle and made of you for being so short. You are a little on the puny side there, kiddo.”

“RAWRROARRORAHROR!”

“Whoa! Easy there! No need to pull my arms off, buddy. I’m just stating fact. Here, maybe this will help. This Hasbro Nerf Cosmic Keep Away game should even the odds a bit. You can choose from 3 different game modes, either Team Countdown, Classic Keep Away, or One-Minute Keep Away, and the electronic Keep Away ball chooses the teams and which players go in the middle. That way, there’s less of a chance you get singled out for being smaller or less coordinated.”

“Roraororaw?”

“Who me? Play Keep Away with a bunch of Wookies? No, thanks, kid. I’m kind of partial to my arms, thank you.”

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Hello? Customer Service?

There’s a minor issue with my order.

Hi, yes, I’m calling about my Evenflo ExerSaucer Walk Around Active Learning Center Garden. No, no it arrived just fine. Yeah, no issues there. Actually, though, I did have a question that I didn’t see in the catalog.

Was it supposed to come with a baby?

No, I know my baby. This is not my baby. I don’t know, maybe 2’4”? Caucasian. Green eyes. Actually I’m not sure, I mean, they all kinda look the same for awhile, you know? It’s not like I’ve had to change it. I guess the outfit is blue, so maybe boy? Look, I’m not calling America’s Most Wanted here. There’s a baby in my house and it’s not mine.

Well I don’t know! Is anyone at the warehouse missing a baby? I mean, I feel like I shouldn’t even have to ask that. What? No, yeah, the product itself is fine. Safety brakes, lots of different toys, a teether, I mean it keeps him pretty occupied, which is good, but I’d like it to be keeping my own child occupied.

What do you mean, you’re happy to hear I’m satisfied? Are you listening to me? There’s a strange baby in my house! And you seem to have shipped it here! I would have much rather you sent the three AAA batteries I need. Look, I just need someone to take this kid!

NO WAY AM I PAYING POSTAGE TO SEND IT BACK!

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Prisoner of the Mantis-God!

The ruined city sat deathly quiet under a cold white moon. Skogar’s keen barbarian senses told him there was no life lurking in the deep purple shadows. And yet, he felt… a presence…

Rounding a corner, he saw the tower. It loomed over the shattered city walls like a single candle looms over a half-eaten birthday cake, if the candle also radiated a supernatural malevolence. Skogar shuddered. Its roof was pitched, pointed, grooved, cutting a cruel silhouette against the cobalt sky. And the tower’s rounded walls, Skogar reckoned, appeared to be formed of crystal. Oh, to be home again among clear mountain streams, rather than the wreckage of some bygone, accursed race! Oh, to be knife-fighting gleefully with his brothers, and away from the stink and stain of civilization!

A scream pierced his ears then, a single womanly scream. If he was going to rescue the Khakhamite chieftain’s daughter, Skogar knew he must follow the sound, even into the forbidding tower. He swallowed his superstitious terror in one mighty brain-gulp and readied his mighty sword-

“Justin! Juuuuustiiiin! Where are you? Do you have my Praying Mantis Pagoda?”

“No.”

Another scream redounded, but this time from a throat far less comely – a shriek, really, or a howl, from some ghastly foulness like a giant praying mantis or a stupid older sister. Finding no entry at ground level, Skogar scaled the sheer outer walls. Through their crystal haze in the midnight gloom, he thought he saw an inhuman shape moving inside. His blood chilled, but Skogar’s climb only quickened, the sooner to dispatch the vileness to whatever sorcerer’s hell whence it ca-

“There you are! I knew it! You are playing with my Praying Mantis Pagoda!”

“It’s not a pagoda! It’s the Temple of the Praying Devourer!”

“Don’t say that about Keithie! He’s my pet and I love him! Now give it back so I can feed him! Who’s hungry for aphids? Do you want some aphids, sweet widdle Keithie?”

“I’m playing with it! Let go!”

“It’s mine! I’m the one who sent away for the eggs, I’m the one who paid the additional $3 shipping charge for the eggs, I’m the one who raised Keithie from when he was a nymph, I’m the one who released the other nymphs into the wild! You’ve never done anything for Keithie and that’s why he hates you!”

“He does not! He wants to devour this barbarian jelly bean! You never let him do anything fun!”

“Give it back!”

“Take it! I dare you!”

“Give it back right now!”

“No! No!”

“Let go or the lid’s gonna come off and- OH GREAT! NOW LOOK!”

“I didn’t do it! You did it!”

“Keithie! Keithie, come back!”

“It was a stupid pet anyway. He never liked you. Bugs can’t like people.”

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!”

The fists rained down on Skogar, but behind the arms he’d thrown up to protect his face, he wore a grim smile. The Praying Devourer had fled, his temple in ruins.

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There’s Gold in Them Thar Hills

If by “gold,” you mean “an old license plate”

Oh, how I wanted a metal detector when I was a boy. In those days, there was no such thing as a kids’ model, though. A tyke would have had to get the real deal, a heavy, pricy, adult-sized contraption available only in weird little stores off the path beaten by polite society: Pawn shops, rare coin shops, rockhound joints, Sears.

I pleaded and pleaded for one, but they far exceeded the toy budget. Moreso even than did the U.S.S. Flagg, G.I. Joe’s seven-and-a-half-foot-long aircraft carrier, the purchase of which my parents also ruled out without having to give it a moment’s consideration.

What Mom and Dad were apparently too dense to understand, though, was that unlike the Flagg (which, OK, I’ll grant you, would have been an impractical extravagance), a metal detector would more than pay for itself the very first time I used it. I’d auction off the first chestful of gold coins I unearthed, or the first suit of Conquistador’s armor, or cache of Revolutionary War bayonets, and reimburse my parents for the metal detector, take the family out to dinner, and have more than enough left over for the Flagg.

Sadly, they couldn’t see the big picture, so I passed my entire childhood without even laying hands on a metal detector once. (I’ve still never used one.) This meant I had to just dig up the yard at random, hoping to find coal deposits, or dinosaur fossils, or Chippewa pottery fragments. One place I decided to excavate was right in front of the back door to our house. I dug a pretty deep hole there, which yielded no buried treasure, but did make an effective ankle-breaker trap for anyone who stepped outside without looking. In retrospect, it was a poor choice of site, and I regret that.

Kudos to Discovery Kids, then, for manufacturing the Ultimate Tools Metal Detector, a three-pound yard-sweeper with a telescoping design that fits kids of all sizes. This is one educational toy that could have done me enormous good in my youth. For one thing, it would have been really, really fun to use. For another—and this would’ve been the really educational part—I would have found out that the only metal there was to detect in the woods behind our house was bits of barbed wire, a few rusty nails, and a Matchbox car I lost out there myself.

It was a lesson I only could have learned by the tedious experience of a thorough and fruitless search.

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Boogity Sold Separately

“Convert to hydrogen fuel cells! Convert to hydrogen fuel cells! Convert to hydrogen fuel cells!”

“Now, Jacob, that’s not how this NASCAR Dale Earnhardt Jr. Voice Command Rumblin’ Racer works. You can only tell it what to do within certain guidelines.”

“But what about our increasing dependence on foreign oil? What about the impending Peak Oil catastrophe? We need that petroleum to fertilize our over-farmed soil! NASCAR could set a great example-”

“I know, I know. Your mother and I appreciate your social conscience, but this car and its remote run on eight AA batteries (four AAs included) anyway. See, the idea is, you’re in the driver’s seat! Just think of what you always want to do when you’re watching NASCAR, and shout it right into the headset!”

“Change the channel to the basketball game! Change the channel to the basketball game!”

“Uh, no, see, you tell it to do what you want to see the cars do.”

“Play basketball! Play basketball!”

“OK, let’s try this one more time: you’re supposed to have fun by commanding the car to do whatever you’d do if you were driving in a NASCAR race!”

“Fall asleep from boredom! Fall asleep from boredom!”

“No. No. The available voice commands only include things that a car would do during an actual NASCAR race.”

“Well, then, why is one of them ‘turn right’?”

”...You got me there. Hey, hand me the remote. I think there’s a basketball game on.”

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Carnival Knowledge

Day 1: “OK, just this once, just for tonight, you can sleep in the Carnival Ball Zone. But tomorrow night it’s back to your bed, got it?”

Day 2: “All right, if you don’t stay up all night playing the Monkey Toss, Duck Pitching, and Elephant Dart games, you can sleep in there again. But no more after tonight.”

Day 4: “Fine. I can’t take the crying any more. Go sleep on those 50 plastic balls. But when your back aches in the morning, don’t come crying to me.”

Day 9: “Oh, did you have an accident? It’s OK. This polyester wipes right off.”

Day 17: “I know you really like it, but it’s just not where a big boy like you should be sleeping. Don’t you want to be a big- OK, OK, don’t start the tantrum again. You can sleep in the Carnival Ball Zone. Again.”

Day 28: “Why don’t we just put your bed on Craigslist?”

Day 47: “No, my mind is made up. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t be with a 38-year-old man who insists on sleeping in a circus-themed ball pit. Have a nice life. And don’t ever call me again.”

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Check the specs!

See 3-D through no colored glasses

When the Woot team hit the Consumer Electronics Show, almost a month ago now, we got to see firsthand how 3-D screens are the big technology of the day. Problem: with most of your expensive, big-name, fancy-pants 3-D entertainment systems, you have to wear special glasses or the picture’s all messed up. Without the glasses, your super high-tech 3-D TV just looks like a regular TV during a bad storm.

What the Muk? We’re not going to put on glasses just to watch TV. Glasses make people look like giant nerds!

Er, no offense to our customers who wear—uh, they look really good on you, actually.

Anyway, we say to Johto with this fancy newfangled 3-D. Give us those old-school lenticular images instead. We love those things! You know, like you used to find in boxes of Cracker Jack, or like Grandma’s portrait of Jesus that watched you wherever you went in the room. Actually, we didn’t love that one; it was creepy. But the effect was impressive.

The lenticular 3-D process just keeps improving, too. These Hobbico Pokemon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea puzzles look way better than Grandma’s Jesus ever did. Which we don’t mean in a sacrilegious John Lennon way, we’re just saying the lensing and printing have gotten better since Grandma’s time. If she were around to buy a new Jesus Sees-All portrait today, its stare would probably freak us out more than ever.

OK, but is the new digital 3-D technology more sophisticated than this lenticular stuff? Sure. Does it look better? Well, yeah. But answer us this: Do you really want to wear some dumb specs the whole time you’re putting together four awesome Pokémon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea puzzles? We thought not!

Again, if you wear prescription eyeglasses anyway, we don’t mean yours. Your specs are cool.

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