Ms. PacMan. I'm playing, I get passed the first two mazes, and "They Meet." Cute, nice, innocent, beautiful. Obviously, this game will chronicle the relationship of these two young lovers as they painfully face their fruit wrought obesity head on and defeat the spectral demons that constantly antagonize their psyche, forcing them into their most basic instincts of flight or fight. But what's the next scene? How does their love progress? The number 23 occurs in the score constantly, a sign of Illuminatus malcontent in the programming, driving the audience towards addiction and intrigue, forcing them to play the first three or four levels of Ms. Pacman over and over again. Know why? Because there is nothing after that! The character development is in constant limbo, and any interest you have in seeing how these two overcome the odds to kick their chemical dependencies and escape their unholy persuers to live in peace and harmony with one another is an illusion wrought only to suck quarters out of your pocket fifty cents at a time. The futility of the game is highlighted best through the warp tubes. You escape, you disappear, you're gone, and then you enter the battlefield once again only to be delivered back into the hands of your embittered enemies. Your only scraping hope of salvation are "Power Pellets," whose only purpose is to teach children that they can legitimately cannibalize their oppressors if they scarf a large white glowing blob of peyote first. Even these elements are fleeting and temporary, and when they're gone, you're a victim waiting to be happen. And why are the ghosts even in pursuit? What is their motivation? Money, food, sex? Whatever, it is, it must be violent, because when they get her, she folds her mouth backwards and implodes. Poor Ms. Pacman, rest in peace, God take your soul, your lover never came to save you and failed to flee your pursuers. Game over, corrupter of minds, eater of quarters, damn you all.
Also, I'm going to chime in and say that anything that ass pinching booze swiller, Tomonobu Itagaki, has touched is for masochists only. You'd be better off spending your sixty bucks on a nice leather cat-o-nine-tails than Ninja Gaiden, slime covered blonde babes or no.