Pac-Guy

Within some underground labyrinth, five large man-like and multi-coloured ghosts roam the empty hallways. Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde. They ran past the floating dots and occasional fruit, for they were of no use to them and they seeked a certain foe...a glutton that had been eating them for years. They wished to create mischief and chaos, but he was too much of a friend of carefree-living to let that happen.

Elsewhere in the halls was the bald and pot-bellied ghost-eater himself, Pac-Guy, with his curiously vibrant skin and unmatched optimism. As evidenced by his attire--gloves, boots, and a skin-matching thong--he was also quite brave. And despite his slightly pudgy look, Pac-Guy devoured those dots without end, save for when he passed by the spots he had already cleared. Pac-Guy's innards were a true wonder of biology, with its only hindrance being his boredom or his defeat- neither of which have occurred in a long time. Pac-Guy, in turn, had an undeterred feeling of invincibility.

During this run, the ghosts had tracked Pac-Guy down with their usual strategies. In turn, he waited for them to get near before running to the nearest 'super-dot'. The ghosts turned the hue of weakness and were unable to outrun their foe. With individual well-placed bites, he CHOMPED and he CHOMPED and he CHOMPED and he CHOMPED all the ghosts in quick succession, and their eyes scampered away to recover.

But something didn't seem right to Pac-Guy. He counted down each finger on his one hand to make sure of something, and...Yes, the count of ghost eyes was off. And the one ghost--Pinky, was it?--looked eager to get eaten. Just then the hero heard laughter come from his gut. Looking down revealed two big ghost eyes looking back with vengeful intent. A startled Pac-Guy punched the eyes but only hurt himself. As the effects of the 'super-dot' vanished, so did the ghost eyes into Pac-Guy.

Before the confused Pac-Guy could think leave to continue his prior tasks, his gut let out a very quiet pop, followed by an odd gurgling. He looked on with confusion. The gut bulged out to his surprise, then bulged again, and then a little more with an audible glorp. The now-worried Pac-Guy stared as his belly had become like a sportsball.

He struggled to recall where the storey's exit was, hoping to find a bathroom soon. Reaching that goal proved clumsy and slow due to his increasingly weighty stomach, and the discomfort felt from the sloshing and bouncing.

What was happening, Pac-Gut wandered, what is in there. Before a hypothesis could be reached, he paused to let out a mighty belch, with his hand covering the noise. This block-aid let the gas swirl along his tongue. Within this gross gas-tasting was sour fruits mixed with an odd powdery blandness. To Pac-Guy's knowledge, nothing could make such strange flavours. Still, after a moment of inactivity, Pac-Guy's cool was regained.

"Is that it? Huh. For a minute there I was worried. So was your whole plan to just...somehow...make me a little fatter? Kind of a silly plan."

The ghost within cackled at his victim's assumption. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!! You have idea of what you're in for!"

"Huh?"

From the ghost's intent, a mighty force built up within Pac-Guy's middle. Pac-Guy could only look on in surprise as his belly bubbled at a seismic level. After that brief moment of violent activity, everything quieted down before Pac-Guy's roundness grew in a new short burst, followed by another, and another, and another. As his belly gradually overcame his torso, his worry mirrored it and his ribcage accommodated it.

The exitward dash was resumed but the bursts continued. In time Pac-Guy's run was slowed down to a jog, then a walk, then a heave. He had reached far into the hallway before the bovine-like weight was too much for his legs, leading to a hefty slam to the floor with a mighty BLORP and a hefty burp. The stationary Pac-Guy's gut had swelled to a size that clearly dwarfed the rest of him. What was once an inconvenience was now a floor fixture, with its owner feeling unbelievable strain on his gut. And from around the corners of the halls, the ghosts came to happily witness their enemy's demise. 'Fearful' was insufficient to describe what Pac-Guy felt, as was 'loud' for the laughter of the ghosts, and neither was going to settle soon.

The source of the trouble wasn't diminishing, now lifting Pac-Guy from the ground. What he wouldn't do at that moment for a wheelbarrow or a crane. Alas, Pac-Guy was left helpless, even with the exit a mere 'twenty fridges' away. Soon his flatbottomed girth loomed over the pleased ghosts. As his arms and legs hung over the giant expanding blob, Pac-Guy whimpered due to both the pain and not knowing where all this skin-stretching fluid was coming from.

Blinky mocked "So, Pac-Guy, what's it like to hold in everything you've ever eaten!"

"What?!"

"Hehhehhehheh. Yes, Pac-Guy. So many dots, so many fruits and so many ghost bodies. You didn't think we don't know where it goes? Well, we do."

The ghosts howled in laughter from behind Pac-Guy, even when everything vibrated from the force within Pac-Guy's insides. He felt a massive increase within his intestines. His limbs rubbed around to ease what pain they could, as the stress on the reddening mass grew. Soon his whole being reached the walls and ceiling of the hall. It seemed that Pac-Guy's defeat was surely imminent!

However, Clyde spoke up. "Hey, uh, anyone notice something not quite right?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Just then, Inky and Blinky noticed what Clyde noticed--an immense swelling from Pac-Guy's pucker, which meant one thing.

Blinky called out. "Hey, Pinky? Can that thing work any faster?"

Pac-Guy didn't know what to make of the odd sensation in his backside. As Pac-Guy's swelling continued, the feeling of something escaping grew stronger.

"Oh geez! I think I need to-...uuuuuhAAAUUUUUHH!"

A stream of odd-hue liquid escaped and hit Inky like a fire hose, turning him to two fleeing eyes. The others backed away in fear from the spew. In time, Pinky joined the rushing fluids, and the deflating Pac-Guy looked back as her eyes escaped. Seeing the remaining ghosts, he adjusted his behind, letting the spray hit Clyde and turning him to eyes. The spray died down and Pac-Guy was back on his feet. Still holding in some bad fluid, he bent over and faced his rear at the fearful leader-spectre. He reached around the bloopy sack and squeezed out the farthest reaching stream of the lot. Like the rest of the pack, Blinky was done for.

Pac-Guy's stomach had shrunk to a more favourable size, but there was a sudden blockage. With one last hard squeeze, he popped out a purple cork along with the remaining fluid. He picked up the cork before standing. In its end were pinholes and imprinted on the side was the name 'Pac-belly Cosmos Tube'.

He shrugged, tossed it away, and aimed for the door while reaching for the phone in his thong. He hit autodial and brought it to his ear.

"...Hey Honey? Could you get the hose and a bucket of soap water ready? I kinda got a bit dirty...No, it's nothing big. I'll explain when I get there."

As Pac-Guy made his leave, revived and vengeful ghosts looked on with scorn.

"Dammit! We were so close! What do we do now!"

Blinky made a call to action. "You don't think this is over, do you? This plan was nearly perfect. We just need some extra, like..."

Blinky retrieved the cork and pulled it apart, creating two new corks and giving the other ghosts hope.

"...a few more corks? Hehehehehehehehehehe!"