A Babylon 5/Monkey Island 3 crossover brought to you by the B5maniac.

Date: 12:40 03/09/99

Standard disclaimers apply...I'm just borrowing B5 as a setting for a little while, no infringement intended, and I am DEFINITELY not making any profit from this story. LucasArts - don't kill me either, I'm just borrowing Guybrush for a little while as while.

This story will only make any real sense if you have played the entertaining PC game "The Curse of Monkey Island" from LucasArts. DON'T READ THIS if you haven't completed the game and don't want any spoilers. (Story set on Blood Island)

This is my first finished fanfic story and is ended so that there can be another follow-up story. Please send any comments to me at: "alaka@breathemail.net"

Please note: this is supposed to be humorous!!!

Anyway, enough with the blabbering and onto the story...

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A Babylon 5/Monkey Island 3 crossover
by the B5maniac
(alaka@breathemail.net)

(Author's note: Story set after Guybrush "dies" and finds himself in Aunt Goodsoup's crypt)

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Guybrush looked around in despair. He admitted to himself that it had been a good trick, using that "Goodsoup Family History" on the bartender, thus making him believe that he was Hearty Beef 'N Potato Goodsoup, and then once again, mixing his "Head B Clear" with the grog, drinking it, and for the goodness-knows-how-manyeth-time, faking his death, but he had never dwelled on the fact that once he was inside the good Aunt's tomb, he would not be able to get out of it again! He had tried to pry open the crack in the far wall with the crowbar but it had had no effect, and the uncooperative grave digger inside the room was far too enveloped in his horror stories to take notice of a certain resurrected pirate going by the name of Guybrush Threepwood, who was also desperately in need of being let out of a certain crypt. Anyway, he knew that he could not give up yet, and so he walked back over to the coffin in which he had been buried. He then turned to his left and lo and behold, what should he spot but a crumbling hole in the wall.
   
'It looks like I just might be able to fit through that hole,' he thought to himself. 'Well, it's worth a try.' Guybrush certainly couldn't see any other way out of there. So, with a bit of effort, he pulled himself cautiously through.

He looked around. Where on earth was he? This didn't look like anywhere else he'd ever been. As far as he could tell, he was standing in a circular room which had plenty of buttons, gadgets and control panels all over the sides. There were many people sat down there, all hard at work and wearing curious, yet very smart, blue uniforms. Guybrush didn't recall ever seeing any pirates looking like that. Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted when a tall and rather authoritative-looking man approached him.

'He must be the captain of this crew,' Guybrush thought.

The man spoke,

"Excuse me, but I do not believe you are authorised to be in C and C. Who are you?"

"My name is Guybrush Threepwood and I'm a mighty pirate," he said, and then added under his breath,"Boy, am I getting sick of saying that," and then aloud,"And who might you be?"

"I'm Captain John Sheridan." The captain looked slightly amused. He continued,"Did you just come through the temporal rift in Sector 14? If not then I think you must be in the wrong year. We don't really get many 'mighty pirates' coming through here in the 23rd century."

Guybrush was confused and slightly overwhelmed by this man's remarks, but even though he hadn't fully taken in the weight of the captain's words, he knew he must have been insulted somewhere in there.

"Who are you insulting, you big old, bed-wetting, doody-head?!?"

Sheridan immediately straightened and clasped his hands firmly behind his back. His eyes narrowed as he said,"Excuse me?"

Guybrush noticed the great amount of emphasis on these two, small words. He now thought that calling this man a "big old, bed-wetting doody-head" had probably been a bad idea, so he immediately took it back. Sheridan accepted the apology and asked again who he was. Guybrush sighed and saw that this was not going to be very easy, so he told the truth.

"Okay. Basically, I am a very loveable and immortal character in a 20th century game by LucasArts called Monkey Island, and..."

"Oh!" Sheridan interrupted. "Monkey Island! That's practically an antique these days. It's ancient!"

"Hey! Who are you calling ancient, you big old, b-. Oh never mind."

"Well it is ancient," Sheridan continued, "over 150 years old actually..."

Guybrush's jaw dropped to the floor. "150 years??? What year is this???"

"2260."

"2260? 22-." Guybrush didn't have time to finish as he twizzled around on one foot and fell in a heap onto the ground.

* * * * * * * * * * *

A WHILE LATER...

Guybrush attempted to open his eyes.

"Awwwggghhhhh," was all he managed to get out. He felt *really* bad and put his hand to his head. He didn't have a hangover but swore it felt just as terrible, so he took a swig of his "Head B Clear". It actually seemed to work. When he felt a little better, he tried to examine his surroundings in more detail. He wasn't...was he?...oh no...he was. He was back in that blasted crypt again. Had he just dreamt all of what had just happened? What he needed right now was a big barrel of grog. He was about to try climbing through the crumbling hole again but was stopped in his tracks when he spotted a box with his name on it. He slowly walked over to it and cautiously lifted the lid. Inside, there were two objects. One was some kind of gun, but in an odd way, it didn't really look like one. The other was a small piece of, well, something, with little arrows on the front. It was just small enough to fit in his hand. Guybrush spotted a folded note in the box. He picked it up and opened it.

It read:

"Hi. If you're feeling a bit groggy, don't be surprised. After all, you did end up fainting on my command deck... :-)"

Guybrush thought,'Me? Feeling groggy? What did that mean? That I felt like grog?' He also thought,'Whoever wrote this mentioned a command deck. Maybe I was on a ship after all.' He started to read the note again:

"I decided, well being a nice guy at heart, I felt it my duty to help you out, so I borrowed Monkey Island 3 off a friend of mine, who happens to be very interested in early history and also collects old computer games. It took me a while to actually get a P.C to play it on, but I did. I've sent you two things I could spare to help you out. The larger one is a P.P.G - it's a, well, futuristic kind of gun. You can use it to blast the lock, and I'm sure it may come in handy later. The smaller one is called a Link. We use it as a communication device. It's supposed to 'stick' to your hand but uses genetic coding to do so, so since I'm lending you mine, you'll just have to keep a hold of it.

When you finally get onto LeChuck's ship, or his 'theme park', all you have to do is tap the Link six times. I can't explain properly - it would take too long, but basically, it will cause an explosion, and a big one at that. Therefore, I suggest you and Elaine get the Hell out of there before that happens! Good luck, and I hope you and Elaine have a very happy life together!"

The note was signed:

Captain John Sheridan, Earth Alliance station Babylon 5.

Guybrush put the note in his pocket, grabbed hold of the Link and prepared to leave. He whipped out a piece of paper and quickly scrawled out a thank-you note. He then sent it through the crumbling hole and turned to the crypt gate. Taking hold of the P.P.G, Guybrush got accustomed to how it felt in his hand and then carefully aimed at the lock, and fired.

"Coooool," he said in awe. He then proceeded to walk out of the crypt, glad to see the night sky around him, and made his way to the hotel.

There was still a lot of work ahead of him, and he had to do it quickly if he ever wanted to see Elaine again. Mentally thanking the captain for his help, he continued confidently on his adventure.

THE END

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Well? Comments anybody? I am now putting forward a challenge for any B5/Monkey Island fans to write a follow up to this story. Any offers?

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"As with everything else,..it's the thought that counts." - Captain John Sheridan, Babylon 5