My fan fiction.

Hey guys this is my fan fiction I struggled with the word limit and keeping it under the required amount so I have only written the first chapter. Never fear the second chapter will be uploaded to a fan fiction site when it's done and i will blog you to let you know what it is when it's done. Cheers Trevor.

I DIED WITH THE EIGHTIES.

Like many I was peer pressured by my friends and co workers to join face book. This social networking tool gradually took over my life. Before I knew it I was regularly spending time on this site looking up old friends who I had not seen in years. One afternoon whilst looking at my old friends from primary school a picture of a friend popped up, it was one of my dearest friends I hadn’t seen in years. We used to hang out all the time eating cherries and other fruit. I was always amazed at how much he could eat. Seriously anything you put in front of this guy he would eat (except ghosts, he was afraid of ghosts.)

I clicked on the link immediately and added him as a friend. It took a couple of hours before he affirmed my friend request, but once he had I eagerly browsed through his profile. The first thing I noticed was his status; it said he was unemployed and single. This was strange, the last time I had seen him he was happily married and working more than ever; “poor bastard” I thought.

I don’t really know why I did what I did next, maybe it was a rush of blood to the head or maybe I was just being a good friend. I snatched a piece of paper and took down his address and rushed out the door, before I knew it I was driving towards his house and a couple of hours later I was outside his house. It must have been a rush of blood to the head, I felt uneasy and nervous and wasn’t sure if I should knock on his door or not. Screw it, I thought, I was here now and had come all this way and decided I would go in. I mean if I didn’t it would have been a complete waste of gas money and being that we are in a recession that would be reckless.

I sheepishly crept up the pavement towards the house hoping he wouldn’t see me and come out to greet me, I always hated it when you were spotted from a way off, it gave you time to consider how to greet the person. It gave you time to develop a myriad of options of how to act. Inevitably I always got confused and screwed up, offering an awkward hybrid greeting that was a mix between a hug, high five, handshake and a kiss on the cheek. Luckily I arrived unseen and made my way up the steps toward the door, I could see the door was ajar and called to my old mate through the gap. No answer.
“Hello”.
No reply.
“Heeellloooowa “ I said elongating and adding in sounds to my greeting in the hope it would arouse the ear drums of my dear friend. There was not response or any sign of life from inside. (At this point I would like to point out that I watch far too much crime drama on TV)

I instantly thought the worst. Had he been murdered? Was he festering away, days old and bloated? Or was he further on in the decomposition process? Were the flies and maggots already at him?

On that thought I bolted in, prepared to see the worst. I was greeted by something depressing and dire, but he wasn’t dead.
Who was this guy? He used to be so full of life. He used to be round and yellow, the bright brilliant yellow colour that a five year old would use to finger paint a picture of the sun. What happened? Where had my old friend Pac man gone?

He sat alone with the lights switched off. His once perfect circular shape now took a malformed pear shape with what looked to be a bite taken out of the middle of it. His brilliant, bright yellow colour he was known for was at best a sickly beige colour.

What the hell had happened to this eighties icon? Where was the old Pac man I knew and loved?
Any awkward greeting I could possibly have imagined did not compare to this, I didn’t know what to say so I just sat down next to him waiting for the right moment to say something.
“Who’s there?” Pac man said. “Are you a ghost; leave me alone.” “Please go away”.
I forgot Pac man didn’t actually have any eyes and there was no way he could see me. I gave a hurried response to put his fears at bay. “No, I’m no ghost. It’s me Trevor.”

At the sound of my voice his sickly beige colour seemed to turn a light lemon colour. I knew I didn't have to dodge the tough questions with Pac man so I asked him straight out “What happened man?”

“I don’t really know, things were great, Mrs Pac man and I had just got our first place and were thinking about starting a family. I was living the dream.
Then things all went wrong the eighties ended, I lost most of my work. The only people that kept me going were diehard fans who would bring me out at Christmas and public holidays. Anyway work dried up the wife left me and I stopped eating fruit and started eating junk food.
And I’ve pretty much been rotting away here ever since.”
I knew I had to get him off the couch and back into the mainstream so I decided to devise a plan.

Chapter 2
Pac goes back to the future.