In early February I debated whether to make a promotional video for my Kickstarter. The 3D modeling was done, the armor was printing reliably, and I figured the concept of 3D printed medieval armor for Barbie dolls would just about sell itself to the right crowd of people. Did I really need to invest the time in making a video?
SPOILER: I ended up making the video.
I dithered and hemmed and hawed for a day or two while I weighed the pros and cons of investing even more time in the Kickstarter. Eventually the creative itch won out over the practical hurdles of lighting, shooting, and editing with less-than-professional tools (my vendetta against Apple Motion 5 continues unabated) and after much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments I released this to the world:
Acquiring scenery and minifigs for the video wasn’t a problem, but I clearly needed a Big Bad. I rooted though every bookshelf and toybox in the house and came up empty. The Zhengspawn are growing up quickly, and are more interested in playing with software than they are with plastic. Clutter is the enemy, so only the most cherished or useful toys remain in the house.
Last year’s purge resulted in an unfortunate paucity of plastic dinosaurs in the storage tubs, just when I needed one the most.
Ever supportive, the Lovely and Talented Mrs. Zheng3 dropped by the local thrift store, popped some tags, and returned with Sparky. She found him in the discount bin for a dollar, on account of his non-functional pushbutton speaker.
Sparky is a generic-looking therapod carnivore with very broad feet. Artistic compromises were clearly made during his design, but I think the size of his forearms pegs him as a reasonable attempt at an Allosaurus, with a little pre-1990’s tail anatomy thrown in for stability’s sake.
I’ve spent a lot of time with Sparky, and now I’m curious about his origins. Somewhere on the Internets there’s an expert on cheap plastic dinosaurs who can take one look at Sparky and identify him immediately. Until that person surfaces, our only clue is a “MADE IN CHINA” stamp between his legs, which narrows his origin not at all.
The wear patterns on Sparky’s maw, brow, and toes suggest that he was extensively played with in the past. He’s definitely attacked his fair share of villages. Sparky, at some point in his life, was loved. The discount bin would be too ignominious an end for such a loyal toy.
To the workbench with you, my Jurassic friend.
Whoever sculpted Sparky did some nice work, especially with the reticulated scale patterns on his skin, but the person or people who inserted his speaker botched the job a bit; I think a hole saw was used to access his chest cavity but the opening was messily enlarged with a knife at some point before the speaker was jammed inside.
With some prying and pulling I’m able to extract the speaker assembly, hopelessly mangling it in the process. It uses two LR41 batteries, which are easy enough to come by, if redonkulously expensive when purchased as singletons.
Sparky’s noisemaker is a simple affair. A speaker is connected to a small circuit board, activated by a (gray) plastic plunger that completes the circuit by touching that solder squiggle in the middle.
But wait, you say? How does nonconductive plastic complete a circuit? There’s a circular swatch of black, conductive somethingorother glued to the bottom of the plunger. Any EE’s who swing by, please tell me what this stuff is called, for curiosity’s sake.
If you squint and turn up the contrast on your monitor you can see a dark circle in the southwest corner of the circuit board. That’s where the recording of Sparky’s voice is stored underneath a blob of epoxy. A little more on that later.
Two fresh batteries later, here’s what Sparky sounded like straight from the factory. Turn your speakers down, it’s a bit unpleasant.
Hmm. That roar sounds familiar. Here’s Godzilla, king of monsters:
Here’s the two of them, side-by-side with a little bit of audio cleanup in Audacity. Sparky is first, followed by Godzilla. Big G is sped up by 90% with an accompanying change in pitch to make Sparky.
It appears to me, at least, that someone just ripped off Godzilla when Sparky was made. I’m offended.
A little research tells me that I won’t be able to hack Sparky’s audio chip and record my own roars. Apparently the audio is burned onto an IC at the factory and then covered with a little black blob of epoxy. “Flip-chip” technology, this sorcery is called, and working with it is beyond any magic I possess at Zheng Labs.
I’d love to be able to hack these chips because they show up everywhere, especially in Happy Meal toys.
I do have a toolbox full of electronics, and I might be able to cobble together a replacement roar for Sparky after the Kickstarter is finished. At the very least, I can print him a new bezel for his speaker today.
Guy can’t be walking around with a nasty hole in his chest, now can he?
Also. All the time I’ve spent on TVTropes? It actually paid off: see how many tropes I managed to cram into one video, and post in the comments below: