The bow, the lipstick--even those narrow, beady eyes--you just knew from the start Ms. Pac Man wasn't a pixelated version of June Cleaver.
That said, I guess I didn't know just how trampy Pac Man's missus was until now. The folks at the wonderfully named T-shirt Hell are currently offering up a design that shares that dirty little secret with everyone who passes you on the street (or works out next to you in the gym).
I think I'll have to get one--size small, sleeveless and in black--despite the fact that I'm trying to be a grown up these days and not wear shirts with "stuff" on them. Life's too short, right?