"Mmffh! Brmmffmmmfgt!"  

"That be well-spoken, pet. But save yer breath, lass. You'll be needing it fer when ya scream 'I do!'"   

Guybrush glared through the green bars of the cage at none other than the vicious pirate LeChuck himself, metamorphosed into a flaming-bearded fiend. Beyond him was Elaine, bound with an entire coil of rope and gagged besides, and behind her...  

It was hard for him to describe what he was seeing. Monkey Island's familiar ape head--far too familiar for his liking--was visible in the distance, but behind that was a mountain he didn't remember at all. Thin tracks of metal looped around it, diving down into the head's open mouth. The entire place had a brightness that wasn't natural for this late at night--every one of the odd buildings around the monkey head was lit ten times as tastelessly as the Goodsoup hotel--and some kind of calliope music was playing incessantly in the background. He was certain he'd never been here before in his life--and yet, somehow, it tugged at his memory. "Where.. .where are we?"   

"Don't ye be rememberin' this place, Threepwood?" LeChuck was smirking. "T'was not long ago that I trapped ya here, to suffer tortures most foul."   

"Wait--" Ever since he'd landed on Plunder Island, there'd been an odd lapse in his memory; now, as he pushed against it, it gave a little. "I can remember! I've seen this place before....in some terrible nightmare.."   

The zombie's smirk widened. Elaine alternated between struggling with the ropes and glaring death down on LeChuck. "T'was no mere nightmare, Guybrush." Then, mockingly, "Search yer feelings. Ya know it to be true."  

And the memory block shattered, releasing the entire horrific episode. Chuckie, the carnival, the voodoo dolls, his parents, his escape into the ocean.... "Oh no! It can't be! But it is!" Now he knew where he was--inside his nightmare world-turned-real. "This is the Carnival of the Damned!"   

"Aye. The Carnival of the Damned!"   

"You fiend! Why have you brought us here?!"   

LeChuck was infuriatingly calm. "There be two reasons, ya pathetic privateer. I be intendin' to torture and kill ye...and I'll be givin' Elaine a treasure."   

Even reeling under the impact of the recovered memory, Guybrush was still defiant. "Ah, you're wasting your time, LeChuck. Elaine's love can't be bought."   

"Ahhh, but this be a very special treasure." LeChuck remained undisturbed--he knew he had the upper hand. "This be the fabled treasure of Big Whoop!"   

And Guybrush's equilibrium, such as it was, flew merrily out to sea. "Big Whoop!?"   

"Aye. The very pirate treasure you were searching for before I caught up with ye!"  

Ha. Even giving Elaine the treasure he, Guybrush, had failed to find wasn't going to win her over. But..."What's so special about the treasure of Big Whoop? Isn't it just like any other pirate treasure?"   

"I see.." This seemed to throw a new light on things. "Ye do not yet know the dreadful power that be Big Whoop."   

"I guess not."   

"Quake in fear, Threepwood, when I tell ye that Big Whoop be a damned portal to a demon netherworld!"  

Guybrush blinked. "Ookay..."   

This was obviously not the reaction he was looking for. "The treasures of Big Whoop be the very gates of Hell themselves!!" LeChuck thundered.   

"Yipe!"   

The undead pirate went on. "Elaine shall pass through the hoary gates of Big Whoop, just as I once did--down to the inky blackness of the infernal nether regions." Not if I have anything to say about it, glared Elaine. "For ya see, Big Whoop gives those who pass through it the greatest gift of all--immortality!"   

Insanity! "But at what cost?"   

LeChuck actually laughed. "Cost? Pah. Granted, people may find me a bit unapproachable now--and the smell does take a while to get used to--but it be worth everything, now that I have the power to make Elaine love me."  

This was making no sense. "But if you kill Elaine, won't she hate you even more?"   

"Aye, at first." This didn't seem to bother LeChuck. "But soon she'll be understandin' what a grand gift eternal life be. And besides, the datin' pool be surprisingly small when ye're the livin' dead. She'll just have to give me another chance."   

That seemed logical--in a twisted sort of way. But nothing else did. "This whole amusement park.." Guybrush indicated his surroundings with a wave of his hand.. "Why?"  

That was a mistake--LeChuck loved to tell stories as much as Guybrush did, and he had a captive audience. "The Carnival of the Damned was me most brilliant idea," he began. "Once I had the power of Big Whoop at my command, I could make Elaine love me at last."   

"I see. But again, why an amusement park?"   

"I'll be gettin' ta that." LeChuck, like most evil villains, hated to be rushed. "I knew Elaine would need a little coaxin', and that I'd be needing an army--a horrible army of the undead!"   

"Okay...but why an amusement park?"   

"Aren't ya gonna let me finish?" The zombie's pained expression would have been comical under calmer circumstances. "I'm not talkin' just to hear m'self talk, ya know."   

Guybrush suppressed a sigh. "You're right. I've been rude. Please, go on."  

"Everyone knows that the life of a seaman is a long, hard, lonely one. Sailors spend months longing for just a few days' leave--and you know what they're looking for as soon as they get into port," LeChuck actually leaned in companionably, as though he and Guybrush were just having a little guy chat, "Eh?"  

"Err...." The mighty pirate felt his face getting hot. Oh surely LeChuck didn't mean.....  

"A family-oriented fun park!"   

Guybrush's thoughts had been along another line altogether. "Oh, that..heheh...of course..."  

LeChuck continued. "They come to take a ride on the giant roller coaster--the Great Monkey Mountain. They reach the top of the highest peak, and then, hands in the air, screaming like monkeys--they plunge down the slope into a great stream of lava!"   

"That doesn't sound the least bit fun."   

"Aye, it's not. In fact, it's downright unpleasant. But when they reach the other side, they're fitting warriors for my skeletal army of the damned!"   

And it got worse from there. LeChuck had done a hundred evil things, and it seemed he wanted to boast about all of them. He had set out as a young pirate to find Big Whoop in order to win Elaine's heart, but when his ship was destroyed, he used his "indefinable LeChuck charm" to convince Minnie Goodsoup that he loved her--then stole her diamond to buy a new ship. Racing a crew led by Elaine's own grandfather, Captain Marley, he had beaten them to Monkey Island by mere moments--and so they saw him pass through Big Whoop with their own eyes.   

Marley was determined to keep its location a secret, so he cut his treasure map into four pieces and gave three pieces of it to his crew, keeping the fourth. They all promised that they would keep it a secret to their graves. But LeChuck, now a vengeful spirit, pursued them and made certain that they kept their word. Rum Rogers Sr., the first mate, was killed when his toaster "accidentally" fell into the tub with him; Rapp Scallion, the cook, died in a flash f ire in his hut on Scabb Island (where Guybrush later restored him, temporarily, to life with a voodoo spell); and young Lindy, the cabin boy, went to LeChuck and begged for his life. The zombie spared him, even giving him enough money to start up a successful advertising firm, then sent him an account he could never possibly handle--Gangrene N' Honey. When his firm was bankrupt, then LeChuck came to collect his debt--Lindy sold his map piece for enough money to pay him back, but in the end was so desperate that he agreed to hire himself out as a human cannonball. One day he was shot from a cannon without a helmet, and that was the end of him. No one could be that desperate, thought Guybrush.   

But the fate of Captain Marley was the worst of all. LeChuck bragged that he had caught up with him while he was racing in the America's Cup and had offered him a choice between giving LeChuck his grandaughter's hand in marriage--or dying more horribly than any of his crewmen.   

"What did he say?" asked Guybrush.  

"Actually, he said quite a few things. 'Oh, the pain!' 'Stop it, you're killin' me'.."   

"MmrrggAAFGHHHH!!!"   

"Some other things, I forget them all...."  

All these horrible stories were beginning to make Guybrush feel ill. But there was one more thing he had to know. "What is the Secret of Monkey Island?"   

"The Secret of Monkey Island?" LeChuck hesistated. "I could tell ye, but I'd rather make ye guess."   

"That 'Rosebud' is a sled?"   

"That's not it! Everyone knows that! No, it goes much deeper than that.." LeChuck paused. "It's an ancient secret, closely guarded by the..uh..natives, and pirates, who happened to..um.."   

"You don't even know the Secret of Monkey Island, do you?" It wasn't really a question.   

"Err..no, not really" admitted the dread zombie.   

There was nothing more to say. Elaine couldn't free herself and he was locked in a cage surrounded by high explosives and barbed wire. Their only hope was that something would go wrong, and so now Guybrush tried to force LeChuck's hand. "I've heard enough of your evil stories! Let's get this over with!"  

"But there be so many more horrible things I be wantin' ta tell ye!"   

"I'm not listening to you any more" Guybrush replied firmly. He turned his back on LeChuck and squeezed his eyes shut. "See, I'm ignoring you."   

No villain can stand to be ignored. "Aaaarghh...you'd better listen!"   

Guybrush put his hands over his ears. "Did somebody say something? I didn't hear anything."  

For a moment he thought he might actually have some control over the situation, but LeChuck wasn't finished yet. "Very well, Threepwood" he growled. "If yer going ta act like a child, I'll help ya get in the mood." His tone was menacing enough that Guy brush turned around to face him--and his insufferable smirk. "I think you deserve a Time Out, young man!"   

Whatever that was, it surely wasn't good. LeChuck drew back and released something with his hands--   

--and Guybrush's entire world turned green. He heard heavy running footsteps and something dragging on the ground, then silence. Gradually he became aware that the green was the wall of his cable-car cage. Dangerous, hopeless, or stupid, he had to try to open that explosive door and save Elaine.   

He lifted the latch. It gave easily and swung open. "A ha! It's not locked!" he triumphed as he leaped out. "Your plan was flawless, LeChuck, except for one minor detail. That will be your downfall!" And Guybrush Threepwood, mighty pirate, toddled towards the Carnival as fast as his drastically shortened legs could carry him.   

As it was, he was so loaded with adrenaline that he was well inside the Carnival proper before he noticed what tiny steps he was taking, or how low to the ground he was, or how short and stumpy his arms were. All he could think was He's taken Elaine on his roller coaster of death. I've got to reach her before she becomes his undead bride! But gradually he became aware that something was different, just by noticing little things that he'd never realized before. His earring felt heavier than usual, the tip of his piratey ponytail was just touching his neck, when he knew that it usually curled itself up and out of the way, his left shoe was a little too tight--and then he looked down and saw what LeChuck's spell had done to him.   

He was a little boy. He might have been a third of his former height, but his head was about the same size, and he could still talk in his normal voice, so not everything had changed--but to all appearances he was younger than ten. Even his clothing had shrunk to fit his stumpy little body and skinny bowlegs. And then, worst of all, his mind began to fog up. Part of his brain was also that of a little boy, and all that part of him wanted to do was play--he didn't understand what was so terrible about being in a Carnival, especially with no parents to tell him no.   

Guybrush fought it down, but it was stubborn--and with all the effort it cost him, he couldn't spare anything to worry about Elaine. "What's happened to me?" he wondered. "Head...foggy...can't think..." suddenly the little boy sprang up again, making it even harder for him to remember what he was trying to do "mind swimming..." he made a desperate effort "must...concentrate...and rescue Elaine! I've got to save Elaine! But how can I save Elaine when I 'm just a little boy?" The inner child was fighting fiercely now. "If only I could think straight!"   

Guybrush pressed both hands into his temples as though trying to drive Little Guybrush out, but his concentration was spoiled by a loud Hyuk! He turned--and there was a large man in a dog costume. "Hey there, little guy! Come over here and meet your old pal, Dinghy Dog!" The sight of him seemed to excite Little Guybrush, putting even more strain on the mighty pirate.   

"Oh, for crying out loud!" said he, disgusted. He tried to disillusion his inner child--"Are you the real Dinghy Dog?"   

Hyuk. "You bet I am! And I'm here to make sure you have fun fun fun. What's your name, little boy?"   

That hadn't helped. "Okay, for starters, I am not a little boy" he informed the man in a Dinghy Dog costume. "I'm Guybrush Threepwood, mighty pirate."   

"Well, shiver me timbers" hyuk-ed Dinghy Dog. "That's swell!"   

There was no way that Dinghy Dog--the man in the Dinghy Dog costume, he forcibly corrected--was going to take him seriously, but he still had to try to reach Elaine. "I need to get on the roller coaster!"   

"I'll bet you do!" Hyuk. "It's fun! But that ride's only for bigger kids."   

"I don't care if it's not safe! I have to ride it now!" Despite his best efforts, a whine from his younger self crept into his voice. Little Guybrush was good at whining.   

"Oh no no no, son," Hyuk. "It's not that it's not safe for little kids to ride. It's just that you've gotta be much, much older to really appreciate the sheer mind-numbing terror of the coaster. But just wait a few years and you'll have matured enough to ride. You'll also be able to buy candy and eat it whenever and wherever you like, just like us grownups can." Hyuk hyuk.  

He'd had just about enough of this. "Don't you patronize me!"   

"Well! Sounds like you've learned a very big word!" Hyuk. "You're a very bright little man. That's swell!"   

"Laugh while you can" threatened Guybrush darkly. "Soon I will destroy LeChuck and your entire world will lie in ruin."   

"You bet!" hyuk-ed the annoying creature cheerfully. "Run along and play now, son!"   

Over the protests of his younger self, he turned around to look at the only other booth in sight, which was run by a man in a rat costume--his cigar protruding from between the rat's teeth. Halfway there he could smell the terrible aroma of unwashed pirate--and worse. It did not at all appeal to the little boy, but Guybrush, propelled by a need to save his girlfriend, was still in charge.  

He could not, however, control Little Guybrush's initial reaction. "Peeeeyew!"   

"Yeah, kid?" snarled the grotesquely smelly rat. "What is it?"   

"What is that horrible smell?"   

"It's a giant rat suit, you little brat! What did you expect--roses?!" Funny--he found it easier to deal with this obnoxious personage than with the amiable Dinghy Dog. It also helped that the little boy was taking no interest in the conversation.   

The midway booth was an odd setup--a cannon was mounted next to the rat and a stack of pies. It faced a wall with a large target on it--a clown's face looked through a window in the center. "What are you guys doing here?"   

"It's 'Blow the Man Down,' the most fun on the midway," the rat trotted out his jingle in a singsongy monotone (not an easy thing to do). "Hit the funny clown and win a fantastic prize. Watch the pies fly from the cannon with blinding speed and loud report. And, if your aim is true, go home with your winnings. Join in the laughs with your happy sailor host Wharf Rat and his pal, Monty Meringue." Spiel finished, Wharf Rat fell silent.   

"What flavor?" asked Guybrush curiously.  

"What?"   

"What flavor are the pies today?"   

The rat seemed irritated that he was asking. "I dunno! Lemon meringue, I think. What kind of a stupid question is that?!"   

Little Guybrush temporarily seized control. "I wanna shoot the cannon! I wanna shoot the cannon!"   

"Sorry, little boy, you're too young. 'Blow the Man Down' is for older kids."   

Since this happened to be in line with what the adult Guybrush wanted to do, he went along with it. "That's discrimination! And how do I know it really works if I can't see it go off?"   

Wharf Rat snarled a sigh. "Okay, kid. Ya wanna see the cannon fire? Here we go." He scooped up a pie from the stack, threw it into the cannon, and fired. Monty Meringue got a face full of egg whites and a new pie was tossed on top of the stack.   

Egg whites. Hmm.. But he still couldn't clear his mind enough to think straight. "What's Dinghy Dog really like in person?"   

"What are ya askin' me for? I'm just a giant rat" His tone was bitter. "I'm not allowed to associate with His Highness, the Great and Mighty Dinghy Dog."   

Just how far could he push this guy? "Could you..uh..introduce me to Dinghy Dog?"  

"No. I can't. Now go away."   

This was actually becoming fun. "Dinghy Dog is really cool, huh?"   

"Oh, yeah. He's a regular saint. So much more gifted a performer than any common old giant rat." His tone dripped sarcasm. "Give a guy a big dog suit and he turns into a freakin' prima donna."  

"I bet Dinghy Dog gets paid a lot of money, right?"   

The rat still managed to keep his patience, barely. "Yeah, and so what if he does? It doesn't take any talent to make a big puppy dog appealing. Now, getting children to hang around a giant rat..heh heh..that's art."   

Guybrush couldn't resist another barb. "And I'll bet his suit doesn't stink, either."   

"You know, you're really starting to bug me, kid."   

"I bet Dinghy Dog could beat you up."  

"Could not!"   

"I bet he could!"  

"I'll tell you what, kid--why don't you go take a swipe at him and then come back here and tell me what happened, hmm?" It was the closest Wharf Rat would come to actually losing his temper.   

The entrance to the roller coaster was invitingly close, but Dinghy Dog was too vigilant to let him get by. Beside that was a booth offering snowcones--a shirtless and hairyness-enhanced pirate in an apron manned it. Odor-enhanced, too--not nearly as bad as Wharf Rat, but still enough to attract flies. There was a pepper grinder on the counter near him. Guybrush was too short to be seen over the counter, so he was able to acquire it without any trouble. Snowcones were free, but after listening to the (rather polite) pirate list off all his unique flavors, he realized that they were too unique to be edible. What in the world was a mold cone, for example?   

A sign over Dinghy Dog's head caught his eye--Guess Your Age and Weight. Below it was a scale with prize shelves on both sides--toy cannon, Smuggle Bunnies, a small anchor, and a skull. A skull? Could it be--?   

"Yo, Murray."  

"Hey! It's you!" Luckily Little Guybrush was fascinated by the demonic skull and kept quiet. "Are you dead yet? You look different."   

"Not dead, Murray. Just cursed."   

"Cursed? That's perfect! I'm cursed too! Let us join our cursed forces together, and together we can rule the world! Bwahahahahaha!!"   

"Uh...yeah." Sometimes Murray's evil enthusiasm was a little much, even for him. "Let me get back to you on that."   

He turned back to Dinghy Dog. "How can I win one of these fabulous prizes?"  

"Well, that's easy," hyuk "matey. If I can't guess your weight or your age, you get to pick what you want."   

"What's the catch?"   

"There's no catch! It's just that easy!"   

Okay.. "I bet you can't guess how old I am."   

Hyuk. "Bet you I can! A little fearsome buccaneer like yourself must be...seven years old."   

"Ha! Wrong! I just so happen to be twenty!"   

The giant mutt never once lost his act. "Well, do you have any proof for your old pal, Dinghy Dog?"  

"You calling me a liar?"   

Hyuk. "You bet I am!"   

But this time he was in the wrong, because Guybrush had his SCUMM™ Actors' Guild membership card out and handy. "'Guybrush Threepwood--Age Twenty'? Well, I suppose you're right. Pick your prize."   

Little Guybrush broke in. "I really want that talking skull!"   

Murray overheard and laughed diabolically. "Bwahahaha! With my unfettered demonic might we will rule the world!"   

He wrestled his younger half down. "You're right, Murray. If I had all that power, the temptation for evil would be too great." To Dinghy "I'll take the anchor."   

"Well, take it away." Hyuk. "Congratulations. Enjoy your stay here at Big Whoop."   

He approached the prize shelf, keeping a tight hold on Little Guybrush. "Look into your heart," coaxed Murray. "I'm the prize you really want!"  

And Guybrush reached out his hand--and took the anchor. "What?!! You picked the anchor?!"   

"It's a really nice anchor, Murray. Sorry." And he walked away, despite the bitter complaints of the skull. "It's not even a real anchor! I'm a real talking skull!"   

At Wharf Rat's booth, he put the anchor into the topmost pie and let Little Guybrush have free whining rein. "I wanna shoot the cannon! I wanna shoot the cannon!"   

"Not right now."   

"Ooooohh...but I wanna see the cannon fire!"   

"Beat cheeks, half-pint!" snarled the giant rat.   

"Look, man, I pay your salary. You want me to tell LeChuck you've got unhappy kids running around here?"   

The threat worked. "Okay, okay, you little--" Wharf Rat bit off the end of that statement, shoved the top pie into the cannon, and fired. This time there was a clang and a soft thud. Monty's face did not reappear in the window.   

"Did you just hear something?"   

"No," lied Guybrush, looking innocent.  

"Weird."   

"Maybe it's the acoustics of that giant, smelly head" he offered.   

"Shut up, kid!"  

Guybrush walked around the target wall and looked through Monty's window. The mime was stretched out a short distance away, quiescent. "Yoohoo! Stinky Mister Rat!"   

Wharf Rat was truly mad now. "Get out of there, you little punk!"   

"What are you going to do about it, vermin-boy?" taunted Guybrush.   

"This'll teach you!" Wharf Rat loaded the cannon and the mighty (if shorter) pirate got a face full of meringue. He scraped the remnants off his face and kept ahold of them. Then he returned to Dinghy Dog, wondering how he was going to push his way past him and get to the roller coaster. Time was running out--he had to do something, soon.   

And so he reached out and shoved Dinghy Dog with his empty hand as hard as he could. It hardly moved the massive guy, but it did slightly annoy him. Hyuk. "Now that's not very nice, little boy."   

Another shove. "I'm not going to warn you again, kid."   

If he could make Dinghy mad, he might be able to distract him. Shove. "You know, you're really startin' to bug me, kid."   

Shove. "All right! That does it!" Hyuk. "You're going down, little punk!" And, before Guybrush could move, Dinghy reached down, grabbed him with the mouth of the dog suit, and bit down hard. It really did hurt--he scrabbled at the creature's "face," and succeeded in tearing off a handful of hair.   

Dinghy released him. "Give me back that hair, kid. You're ruining the suit."   

But Guybrush had no intention of giving it back, because he'd just realized what he was holding--a pepper grinder, egg whites, and the hair of a dog that bit him. He ran for the snowcone guy's booth and ordered a plain snowcone, then added the meringue, pepper, and dog hair--then took a big bite of the disgusting snowcone. He swallowed it as quickly as he could, but it really was disgusting.  

The result was a massive brain freeze--and more. He'd never tried to sober up with Griswold's hangover remedy before, but now he understood the weird contortions of the bartender's face. It felt like someone was trying to hammer the fogginess out of his brain--with a real hammer. And the little boy was fighting back. Guybrush was caught in the middle--for about half an eternity, he was under so much pressure that he honestly worried his head was about to burst open. Then something gave--he snapped back to his original height in a second, every trace of fogginess gone. He waited only long enough to get used to being so far off the ground before he raced for the roller coaster and Elaine.  He had overcome the zombie's spell--and he had a score to settle with its maker.