Pac-Man Devours the Ghosts of *A Christmas Carol*, Leaving Dickens “Seasonally Confused” and London “Slightly More Arcade”

LONDON—In what literary scholars are calling “a cross-platform incident” and the rest of humanity is calling “absolutely inevitable,” Pac-Man has reportedly eaten the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come, effectively cancelling Ebenezer Scrooge’s annual moral awakening and replacing it with a steady, rhythmic chomp.

Witnesses say the event unfolded shortly after midnight when a faint, spectral rattle of chains was heard across Scrooge’s chambers—followed by the unmistakable sound of a yellow disc-shaped consumer-product mascot clearing a corridor like an industrial vacuum.

“Normally we get three ghosts, a bit of wailing, then Scrooge cries and buys a turkey,” said Mrs. Dilber, still clutching a candlestick and a deep sense of genre whiplash. “This year we got… waka-waka-waka… and then the future stopped happening.”

The Haunting Began as Usual, Until It Didn’t

According to the official log of the Marley & Marley Afterlife Outreach Program (a division of Eternal Regrets, Ltd.), the evening began according to Dickensian protocol. Jacob Marley appeared, clanked his chains, expressed appropriate remorse, and announced the arrival of three spirits designed to deliver narrative therapy.

“It’s a robust system,” explained Marley, speaking through an interpreter because—being dead—he is technically “all wind.” “We show a miser his life through time, he panics, he reforms, capitalism survives Christmas, and we all go back to suffering with a sense of purpose.”

But just as Marley was about to exit and the Ghost of Christmas Past was about to float in dramatically, a glowing pellet trail appeared along the floorboards, curving helpfully through Scrooge’s bedroom like an invitation.

“It was so obvious in hindsight,” Marley admitted. “The pellets are always a bad sign. You see pellets, you’re not in a moral fable anymore. You’re in a maze.”

Moments later, Pac-Man entered the room at speed, paused briefly as if to consider the emotional stakes, then ate the Ghost of Christmas Past in a single confident bite.

Ghost of Christmas Past: “I Was Literally Trying to Help”

The Ghost of Christmas Past—now described in official paperwork as “previously luminous and instructive; currently digested”—had reportedly prepared an itinerary featuring Scrooge’s lonely childhood, lost love, and the exact moment his soul began to resemble a damp ledger.

“He didn’t even let me show him the school,” the Ghost said in a pre-consumption statement recorded by Stave Security Services. “One moment I’m shimmering in a wreath of memory-light; the next I’m a snack. I want it noted for the record: I was literally trying to help.”

Scholars say the loss of the Ghost of Christmas Past is particularly significant because it removed the narrative’s critical first step: the emotionally destabilising slideshow.

“Without the Past, there’s no context,” said Professor Harriet Niblick of the University of Gravy and Seasonal Studies. “Scrooge can’t learn why he’s miserable, which means he can’t take responsibility. He can only take… high scores.”

The Ghost of Christmas Present Briefly Attempted Negotiations

The Ghost of Christmas Present, described by sources as “large, jovial, and now extremely absent,” reportedly attempted to offer Pac-Man a compromise: a guided tour of festive London, plus a tasting menu of pudding, goose, and humble pie.

But Pac-Man—whose legal name is believed to be “PAC-MAN™ (property of Namco, all rights reserved)”—responded only with more chomping.

Witnesses say the Ghost of Christmas Present tried one last strategy: pointing out Tiny Tim.

Pac-Man enters Scrooge’s bedroom, leaving a trail of glowing pellets

“It was very manipulative,” said Pac-Man through his publicist, who communicated exclusively in 8-bit sound effects. “But I have a strict policy: if it’s edible, it’s edible. I don’t make exceptions for allegory.”

Tiny Tim was unharmed, though he was reportedly “confused by the sudden presence of a giant circular being who behaves like hunger made visible.”

“He seemed nice,” Tiny Tim said. “He didn’t say much. He just… moved with purpose.”

Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come Was Eaten Mid-Ominous Gesture

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come had barely entered the room before disaster struck. According to eyewitness accounts, the hooded figure raised a bony hand to point toward Scrooge’s grave, only for Pac-Man to interpret the gesture as a direction to the nearest snack.

“It’s humiliating,” said an anonymous spectre familiar with the matter. “You spend centuries learning the art of dread, you cultivate silence, you perfect the slow reveal. Then a yellow dot eats you like you’re a grape.”

As a result, the future is now—according to multiple respected authorities—“kind of glitching.”

The Thames briefly flowed backwards. A lamppost proposed to a pigeon. And several hedge fund managers reportedly became generous without explanation, which economists agree is the surest sign that time has been compromised.

Ebenezer Scrooge Left Without Redemption, Chooses Arcade Domination Instead

Scrooge, deprived of his spiritual intervention package, did not awaken on Christmas morning “as light as a feather” or “as happy as an angel.”

Instead, he woke up and immediately asked two questions:

  1. “What’s my score?”

  2. “Where do I buy more lives?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen Scrooge display joy,” said Bob Cratchit. “Unfortunately it was the joy of a man who believes compassion is a power-up.”

Scrooge then proceeded to spend Christmas Day chasing four confused office clerks around his counting-house, shouting “GHOSTS!” whenever they turned a corner, and attempting to eat them when they panicked.

“He’s not even reformed,” Cratchit added. “He’s just… motivated.”

By noon, Scrooge had announced a series of new workplace policies, including:

  • All wages to be paid in pellets.

  • Lunch breaks replaced with “fruit opportunities.”

  • Casual Fridays replaced with “maze attire.”

  • Any employee who complains will be “sent to the blue corner until you stop being edible.”

London Authorities Form Taskforce: “We Are Not Equipped for This Genre”

Jacob Marley tries to deliver the usual warning, interrupted by arcade logic

The Metropolitan Police confirmed the formation of a special unit, Taskforce WAKA, after multiple reports of “a man-shaped circle consuming seasonal metaphors.”

“We have protocols for hauntings, and we have protocols for arcade cabinets,” said Chief Inspector Maud Wetherspoon. “We do not, at present, have protocols for a haunting that has become an arcade cabinet.”

When asked whether Pac-Man posed a threat to public safety, Wetherspoon replied: “Only to anything that can be interpreted as a pellet, fruit, or abstract representation of regret.”

London’s mayor urged calm, reminding residents that Pac-Man is “mostly harmless unless you are small, symbolic, and positioned in a corridor.”

Literary Community Divided: “Vandalism” vs “Necessary Modernisation”

Reaction among Dickens enthusiasts has been mixed.

“This is vandalism,” said Sir Aloysius Thatch, Chair of the Society for the Preservation of Earnest Victorian Suffering. “You cannot simply replace the spiritual architecture of redemption with a hungry mascot. The entire point of A Christmas Carol is that human beings can change.”

Others argue the new version is simply more relatable.

“Look, the Victorian model is: face your trauma, repair your relationships, become generous,” said cultural critic Nadine Floss. “The modern model is: avoid your trauma, pursue optimisation, eat everything in your path. This adaptation is faithful to the times.”

A group of experimental theatre directors has already announced a touring production titled A Christmas Chomp, promising “all the wonder of Dickens with none of the emotional labour.”

Tickets are selling well, mostly because audiences receive a complimentary coin at the door and are told it “represents their last chance.”

The Ghost Union Issues Formal Complaint

The International Brotherhood of Seasonal Apparitions released a statement condemning the event as “an unacceptable escalation in cross-dimensional workplace hazards.”

“Our members are trained for chain-rattling, moral instruction, and tasteful ominous pointing,” the statement read. “They are not trained to be eaten by a corporate sphere.”

The union is demanding:

  • Hazard pay for all future hauntings.

  • Anti-consumption protections, including spectral pepper spray.

  • A ban on pellets in Victorian bedrooms.

  • A legally enforced minimum distance between allegory and arcade characters.

Negotiations are expected to be tense, particularly because Pac-Man has refused to attend any meeting that is not laid out in a neat, consumable line.

Scientists Attempt to Explain How This Happened, Fail Immediately

The Ghost of Christmas Past is eaten mid-shimmer

Physicists from the Royal Society conducted an emergency symposium titled Causality, Christmas, and Circular Hunger. The proceedings lasted seven minutes before everyone agreed the problem was “too stupid to be real,” at which point reality politely disagreed.

Dr. Simon Boggle, a specialist in narrative integrity, suggested the incident may be the result of “franchise gravitational pull.”

“When two cultural properties occupy the same holiday season, they can collide,” Boggle explained, gesturing at a diagram showing Dickens on one side, Pac-Man on the other, and a drawing of Scrooge being chased by four lawyers. “It’s like tectonic plates, but with intellectual property.”

When asked what the solution might be, Boggle sighed and said, “We could try introducing a power pellet—something that makes the ghosts temporarily able to eat Pac-Man.”

This idea was immediately rejected by the Dickens community on the grounds that “it would be silly,” a criticism that arrived several hours too late.

Sources Confirm the Ghosts Are “Not Gone, Just… Somewhere Else”

Despite their consumption, spiritual authorities insist the Ghosts have not been destroyed. Instead, they are believed to be “inside Pac-Man,” which raises complex theological questions and at least one uncomfortable sentence: Pac-Man is now haunted by Christmas.

“There is hope,” said Marley, adjusting a chain and attempting optimism for the first time since dying. “If Pac-Man contains the spirits, then Pac-Man may be forced to confront the meaning of Christmas.”

At press time, Pac-Man was seen pausing near a window, staring out at falling snow, and appearing—briefly—to reflect.

Then he ate a nearby wreath and accelerated.

What Christmas Looks Like Now

With the Ghosts missing, London’s Christmas has entered what experts call “a transitional phase,” characterised by:

  • Increased generosity from people who are frightened they might be next.

  • A sudden surge in pellet-based cuisine.

  • Carol singers adopting a more rhythmic “waka” beat.

  • Scrooge shouting “Merry Christmas!” not out of goodwill, but because it sounds like a bonus round.

Meanwhile, Tiny Tim remains cautiously optimistic.

“I still think people can change,” he said, watching Scrooge attempt to eat a door. “I’m just not sure they’ll change in a way that makes sense.”

As night fell, a faint jingling echoed through the streets—chains, perhaps, or the sound of a coin being inserted somewhere in the heavens. And from deep within the maze of modern Christmas, a single truth rang out, timeless and universal:

No matter the era, no matter the moral, no matter the literary tradition—

If you leave glowing pellets on the floor, something will eventually come along and eat them.

The Ghost of Christmas Present offers a festive negotiation (and loses)