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Monkey Island 5 - Operation Guybrush.
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Chapter 5: The horror! The horror!

As Guybrush begins to recover from the shock of everything that has happened to him since he was kidnapped, LeChuck addresses Agley in a stage whisper, “Agley, escort our prisoner to his chambers.”

In response to this command, Agley grabs Guybrush under his arms and hoists him roughly to his feet. Guybrush sways forwards slightly, unsteady, a combined result of being horizontal for so long and from losing a significant amount of blood from the purposely inflicted wound on his left arm. As he staggers a little, Agley grabs Guybrush by the collar with one strong hand and lifts him right off his feet, leaving him dangling slightly precariously in the air. By shifting the position of his hand on Guybrush’s shirt while still maintaining a firm yet relatively gentle grasp on it, Agley forces a confused and quite frankly terrified Guybrush to his eye level. Guybrush gazes, petrified, into Agley’s huge, slate grey eyes that seem strangely soulless yet hypnotic. If any emotion runs through his vast, empty eyes, it is a slight gleam of pure malice and evil. Guybrush frantically tries to struggle free, squirming in Agley’s powerful grip. Agley’s hold doesn’t physically hurt him, although it is not exactly comfortable, but Guybrush is suddenly stricken with fear, and instinctively feels the need to escape, sensing things could get far worse. He attempts to trick his captor into dropping him, suddenly shaking his body from side to side, thrashing around madly in his grip, but this tactic doesn’t work, as Guybrush simply does not possess the strength to actually break free from his grasp. He then eventually resorts to lashing out at Agley, kicking out with his bound legs and punching viciously with his fists. (The flight or fight response having automatically kicked in!) Agley sighs deeply, looking incredibly bored, and, grabbing hold of Guybrush’s shoulders, frogmarches him towards the porcelain cage. Guybrush panics as he realises exactly where Agley is going to deposit him, resisting Agley’s hold fiercely, albeit pointlessly, as he is dragged across the room and is (quite literally) thrown into the cage. He lands heavily on his knees, but springs up as soon as he recognises what he has come into contact with, temporarily forgetting his bound ankles. As he leaps up, he pitches forward violently, but catches himself just in time to prevent himself colliding with the ghastly semi-solid wall of porcelain. He wraps both his arms around himself, trying desperately to avoid touching the delicate sides of his prison.

When he eventually feels relatively calm, (the key word being relatively), he quickly tries to formulate an escape plan. He racks his brains, considering precisely how to either destroy or distract LeChuck and his henchmen (thus taking his mind off the Monkey Island equivalent of room 101). As he contemplates exactly what to do, LeChuck excitedly gathers his cronies around to discuss the tortures he has planned for Guybrush. LeChuck himself becomes increasingly animated and expectant as the group conspires, plotting various punishments for Guybrush to endure. Guybrush has a sudden stroke of inspiration, and begins to swiftly scour his pockets, occasionally getting distracted, and feeling
slightly disturbed due to his hearing the odd whispered threat and roar
of hollow, heartless laughter ring through the air. Eventually, his fingers close blindly on the object he was searching for, and without a moment’s hesitation he plucks the bottle out of his pocket, shakes it up manically and unleashes the foaming, fizzing spray over LeChuck’s form.

As the liquid hits him, LeChuck gasps in shock, then, realising what the liquid actually is, bursts into a fit of frenzied laughter. Guybrush lets out a surprised “Huh?” and glances down at the bottle.

“Oh, no!” he moans in a state of horrified disbelief, “Dr. Pepper!”

Regaining a little of his composure, he reassures himself gently, shrugging in a resigned tone “Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Aha- ha! Ye’ll soon find out the worst that could happen,” LeChuck taunts gleefully, as he beckons Largo, who wields the voodoo doll in one hand and a horrific looking, rusty implement in the other. As Largo slowly advances upon Guybrush, a fiendish grin plastered over his face.

Guybrush gulps “Uh-oh,I really brought this punishment on myself”


As Guybrush is being tormented by LeChuck and company, Elaine remains under the Voodoo Lady’s strict instruction. Now, says the Voodoo lady gently, I’ve promised to teach you the basics of what you need to know to rescue your husband, and we will begin now. She pauses dramatically, allowing Elaine a moment to prepare herself, but Elaine, an anxious expression on her alert face, cries “Please, don’t patronise me, may we begin the lesson now?”

The Voodoo lady sighs, a slightly stern look on her face, then “Very well. We will start with perhaps the most important element of the Art, and this will certainly give you hope, Elaine.” As Elaine looks increasingly agitated, the Voodoo Lady continues her instructions, “It is essential to remember that the vast majority of situations and
spells encountered in Voodoo can be reversed.”

Elaine’s frown lifts for a moment, and she even manages to smile a little. “So there is hope then?” she muses wonderingly.

“Yes, but we must hurry. The reversal of spells and hexes only works if there are no other options for rectifying the situation, and unfortunately, once a hex has been used on a person, there is only a limited time in which the reversal spell will act. Wait any longer than 48 hours, and the original spell will normally be permanent. Now, the basics to the history of Voodoo, which you will need to study carefully, can be found in-”

“Wait just a minute!” shrieks Elaine indignantly. I thought you were
going to teach me everything I need to know, I certainly didn’t expect to be given a pile of books to read!

The Voodoo Lady’s face tenses, and her expression becomes quite terrifyingly frosty, but she gazes at Elaine calmly for a moment, ”Elaine, the best way to get a basic grounding in the subject is to study literature from the history of Voodoo, and also to study the spell books you might need. Here, this should be enough to teach you all you need to know.” The Voodoo Lady approaches her cobwebbed bookshelf in the corner of the room, and is obscured by shadow for a moment, emerging with a huge pile of books, so tall she is almost hidden from sight as she staggers under the sheer weight of them. “Here, take these.” She thrusts the tower of books at Elaine. “If you need any help understanding any of the concepts, I’ll be willing to explain anything.” She pauses and adds as an afterthought, “Except perhaps the history of Voodoo…”

Elaine sighs slightly, rather irritated that she must be reduced to the level of a school pupil, but settles down with the first book on the pile, coming to the quick conclusion that it would be better to just study the required material as quickly as possible, rather than to complain and prolong Guybrush’s rescue. She succeeds in engrossing herself in the colossal heap of books, but after hours of studying and managing to work her way through about half the pile, Elaine gradually becomes increasingly exhausted from the effort of the extensive studying, and is suddenly stricken with an unbearable fatigue, and knows she cannot work productively anymore without a break. She gently rests her head on her arms, closing her eyes and trying to force her body and mind to relax, having studied for so long, and being so concerned about Guybrush, she finds it incredibly difficult to calm herself. Suddenly, all she can see ahead of her is total darkness. Relieved that she must finally be relaxed enough for sleep, Elaine eases naturally into a state of relaxation, shattered into shards as she hears manic, satanic laughter echoing wildly around her, and realises, with a sinking, sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach, that this horrific laughter is mingled with her husbands agonised yells. Trying desperately to seek Guybrush out by calling his name over and over, increasingly loudly and passionately, Elaine suddenly shields herself against a great wall of flame that bursts up from the very heart of the darkness, and, as the flames gradually ebb away, Elaine spies something so dreadful to her that she cannot see clearly after a few seconds, her vision blurred with tears of anguish, crying out, “No! NO! It cant be!” as she spots Guybrush lying perfectly still on the ground, completely inert and lifeless.

“Elaine! ELAINE!” Suddenly, Elaine is back in the Voodoo Lady’s shop, sweating and trembling all over as she is roused from her vision by the now, very concerned Voodoo Lady. “Elaine,” starts the Voodoo Lady in her gentle, rhythmic voice. “I’m sorry I have to tell you this, but-” she pauses, quite uncomfortably, then murmurs, “I know what you just saw, because I saw it too. And I’m afraid, it is something of a... well- a premonition.” Elaine gasps, still recovering from the shock of her nightmarish vision, so not adequately prepared for such startling news.
“I-I really was much happier before y-you told me that.” Elaine’s voice shakes slightly.
“I’m so sorry, I can completely understand how terrifying and shocking such visions of the future can be, Elaine, but you must remember, you can prevent such occurrences. Listen, Elaine. I’ve had many such visions, both of my own, and through other people, and over many years, I’ve learnt that the best way to overcome these visions is ultimately to keep busy and to refuse to think about them.”

Elaine takes a deep, calming breath. “Ok, I’ll do that. Thanks for the help.” Elaine settles back down with the books, but she cannot concentrate properly. It is not so much the vision that keeps distracting her, but her deepest fears and anxieties, which all are led by pure uncertainty, and the darkest worry that she will never see Guybrush again.


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