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Excerpts from Memoirs...
Spitting the sand of Monkey Island from my mouth, I began to wonder if the life of a mighty pirate was all it was cracked up to be. I'd ignored recent events that should have been warning shots across the bow of my soul, from my wife's brush with death to the anti-pirate ramblings of Australian gazillionaire Ozzie Mandrill. If only I'd chosen a different path, LeChuck might still be dead, and the mystery of the Ultimate Insult might have remained an enigma. If I'd never picked up a sword, the grog-swilling pirates of the Tri-Island Area might be unthreatened by the twin forces of gentrification and demonic heckfire. If only . . . suddenly, the hairy finger of a familiar monkey tapped me on the shoulder. It was time. Time to stop LeChuck (again). Time to make the world safe for pirates. Time for the biggest battle of my swashbuckling life.
Excerpted from "The Memoirs of Guybrush Threepwood,
the Monkey Island Years"
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