Dark Pac: Difference between revisions
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However, I was strong. My raw passion for Pac-Man pulled me through, and, with the machine on my back, I limped back to my lousy condominium. I unplugged my Maytag Microwave from the socket and plugged in this ziggurat of electronic entertainment. The typical arcade boot-up garble came up and I held my breath. Finally, I saw the Pac-Man title screen and wept. She was back.
But… something was off. Instead of reading Midway at the bottom of the screen under the ghosts’ names, it said
I was immediately caught off guard by the lack of a beginning jingle. If you’ve ever played Pac-Man, you know it. However, it wasn’t here. I was starting to tremble a bit by then. I had no idea what other terrors the game had in store. The game started just fine. Even though the jingle didn’t play earlier, the sound effects came through just fine. My heart pounded with joy at each
But things started to change soon after. The
I ran into the bathroom and threw up. I couldn’t believe what I just saw. Pac-Man was in some sort of horrible pain. It physically hurt me to even think about that. I didn’t want to play this game any more. I stumbled back towards the machine, but, without looking at that wretched monolith, I unplugged it from the wall. I turned to the machine. I could see my reflection in its dark glass. Thankfully, the nightmare was over.
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Or so I thought. It appeared that this game had a different plan. The screen flickered on again, showing the usual arcade boot-up garbage.
All out of options, I shoved the entire cabinet over, so that the screen faced the floor. I decided that I would just ignore its existence and go to sleep. After all, I had a long day. So I tucked myself into bed and said hello to the world of dreams. Only these dreams were not welcoming. I had one dream in which the Pac-Man design featured on the side of the original arcade cabinet was being skinned alive. It led to another dream where all of the ghosts were sobbing in a black void. I woke up crying myself, but it was immediately interrupted by fear.
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Please only wake me when there comes a future where this Pac-Man machine doesn’t exist. The human race will tear itself apart if this machine continues on, and I do not wish to witness such a sad destruction. Perhaps one day, the world can find an answer to end such a tragedy. I place my trust in you, the reader of this note, to help cultivate a better world for the people of tomorrow. A tomorrow I can look forward to waking up to.
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