2:40 a.m.: My evening with Pac-Man begins with a delightful little tutorial, in which our hero explains his dependency on me. "My world can be tricky sometimes," he admits, "so I'll need your help finding things, getting out of trouble and solving weird mysteries!" Then we practice "working together."
That's right. I don't control Pac-Man. No, he acts on his own volition. Instead, I am forced to work with him, using only my limited abilities as an outside influence. I can suggest Pac-Man look in certain directions. I can throw him a power pellet from my stockpile, if he finds himself cornered by nasty ghosts during his travels.
Oh, and yes. I have a slingshot, which I can aim anywhere.
Including Pac-Man himself.
The tutorial instructs me in the art of Pac-Man 2: assisting an adorably moody, species-less yellow thing in carrying out his mundane, daily tasks using only the power of persuasion.
Persuasion is, to put it lightly, not foreign to me.
"Now that we're friends," he goes on to say, "here is an important hint: When I'm happy I'll pay more attention to you!
I'll be sure to keep that in mind.
