Pacman

A while ago, some time back in May, a little yellow friend of mine celebrated his 30th birthday. Firstly, let's just chuck it out there. Pacman is AWESOME. It's simple, addictive, and damn fun. But do you think it's much fun for the poor guy? Have you heard him recently? 'Wacca-wacca-wacca...' It must be driving him absolutely fucking bat shit insane! A constant loop of some meaningless irritating noise. But it's not only this, no no, it gets worse for our nearly circular friend. I mean, he's constantly on the move, in fear, chomping away at his little yellow blobs of food, in the desperate hope that it takes his mind off the GHOSTS that are chasing him. Fucking ghosts! Just imagine - we've never (let's be honest) actually seen a bloody ghost, so to be chased by four is fucking ridiculous! The poor guy...! So, to give the little yellow dude a chance, he's allowed to eat the ghosts, so long as he has recently eaten a power pellet. How this makes any sense, I'd love to know. Answers on a postcard please. So anyway, after a long slog of running (?) around a maze, fleeing from ghosts, and then charging back at them, Pacman finally eliminates all the ghosts. After all that, could you imagine the relief he must be feeling? Well it doesn't last for long. Because guess what? He has to do it all AGAIN. Why? Because we want to get a high score. Fuck we're selfish. Pacman is forever stuck inside a death maze. We all love the guy, but we don't realize what we've done to him. He's probably a complete babbling nervous wreck right now. I would even go as far as saying that he's probably pretty suicidal. You see, that's what we've all collectively done to Pacman. The greatest hero of all time (maybe). Happy now? 'Cause I sure as hell aint. We've got to get him out of there. Even if he turns out to be a complete dickhead, we have to save him for his sheer bravery and for the fact that he's shaped like a fucking pizza. Fucking. Pizza.