Well, here we are! I've had this one sitting on my computer for a while...I'm not labeling this one as a WIP on my profile because it's just a collection of one-shots that I'll update as I'm inspired.

Rating on these stories will generally be K. Will post any warnings that need be. But, generally, if you're old enough to play the games you're old enough to read these stories. Most of these stories will be humor, but there will also be action and the occasional hurt/comfort or whump story.

This particular story is set about a year before Tales of Monkey Island (all timelines based off of the Monkey Island wikipedia page).


Chapter One: Interlude in a Tavern

"We'll be ready to sail as soon as I fetch my husband," Elaine called back to the ship. Guybrush had had one job to do, just one—purchase a map for the next phase of their journey. Undoubtedly he'd gotten distracted in town.

It was just as well. She already had a hold full of maps. It was little tasks like this that made her dashing—albeit clumsy—husband feel important yet keep him out of the way for the truly important phases of their journey.

She knew where he would be, after all. This little island boasted one of the finest taverns in the area, a place where pirates and merchants would congregate to share grog and tell stories.

And there wasn't a vintage of grog yet that could preoccupy her husband for this long.

"So, there I was, at the mercy of fifteen murderous pirates, with only a broken bottle and my wits to defend myself! But I wasn't scared. Those pirates had nothing on me, Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate!"

Elaine shook her head as she entered the tavern. As she had predicted, he was seated at a table in the middle of the tavern spinning a wildly exaggerated tale. What was surprising was the number of patrons clustered around him to hear the tale. The people on this island must be absolutely starved for news.

Of course, several of those gathered around were women. Elaine crossed her arms and frowned for a moment. She should have known that beard was a bad idea. Back when he'd been clean-shaven most of the bar wenches left him alone, not wanting to keep company with a man who looked young enough to be their son (grandson in some cases). But, now that his beard had finally filled in (it had only taken six months), he was starting to look every part the dashing young pirate captain.

A very young pirate captain. Never mind that he'd be thirty in a couple of years, he barely looked a day over twenty-one. The Threepwood face must age slowly, Elaine thought. Or maybe it would all show at once. He'd wake up at age fifty and all the wrinkles and gray hair he'd already caused his wife would have caught up with him.

"…my back to the wall, one arm bloodied and useless, I still fought on with every breath left in my body! Those men would rue the day they faced me!" Guybrush was in his element here, arms waving dangerously, story exaggerated far beyond reason.

"Oh! What did you do?" one of the bar floozies leaned against him, trying to give him a good view of her ample cleavage.

Gods bless her oblivious husband, he just scooted away from the wench so he could swing his arm through the air as he continued his story. Charming as he was, Guybrush was particularly clueless when certain women were trying to flirt with him.

"I skewered one with the broken bottle in my hand! 'Mercy!' he cried, 'I never expected to cross swords with you!' But I show no man mercy. Three men fell to my next blow!"

"Actually, it was one man," Elaine murmured as she tried to ease through the crowd. "He tried to take your wallet and I clobbered him."

"My, I wish we had men like you around here," another of the bar wenches cozied right up to Guybrush and rested her head against his shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Er…yeah," he looked a bit uncomfortable at her proximity. "Hey, do you have something in your eye?"

"I have something in mine!" the first floozy tugged on his other arm. "Look here, see?"

"I don't see anything," Guybrush shrugged, studying the woman's eyes. "You do have an awful lot of eyeliner on. Doesn't that get sticky in this humidity?"

Elaine rolled her eyes and clapped one hand to her forehead. If we have to fight our way out of another bloody tavern because my husband has all the tact of a hermit crab….

"Hey, she's nothing," the second one actually had her hands on Guybrush now, turning his face back to face her. "Want to spend some time with me, sailor?"


"No, he wants me! I saw him first, Octavia!"

"I called dibs, Edwina!"

"Did not!"

"Ladies?" Guybrush, finally aware of the situation he was in, started trying to extricate himself from the table. "I really need to get back to my wife."

"Did so!"

"You can't call dibs on the clients!"

"Says who? I called dibs!"

"Oh boy," Guybrush was trapped in his chair, two angry women nose-to-nose in front of his face. Each one was leaning against the hapless pirate, effectively pinning him to the chair with their bosoms.

Elaine grumbled a bit and shoved her way through to the table. "Shove off, you hussies, he's mine."

The two women turned to look at her.

"Hmph. Too skinny," Octavia turned up her nose.

"Don't you know how to dress for this line of work, dearie?" Edwina flounced her hair.

Enough was enough. Elaine drew her sword and planted one foot on the table, leveling the blade in between the two floozies. "That's my husband. Step away from him. Now."

The two took one long look at her sword then fled to opposite ends of the tavern, shrieking. Soon Elaine was left alone, facing her rather sheepish husband.


She rolled her eyes and sheathed her blade. "Come on, dear, it's time to go."

The tavern patrons parted for her as she led the way to the exit. Seeing the so-called hero's wife rescue him from a pair of bar wenches probably put a damper on the storytelling.

"What was with those two? I didn't do anything!" Guybrush hurried to catch up to her. He glanced back at one of the women, flinching away at the dirty looks she was shooting him. "Sheesh, I was just telling a story. What do you think they wanted?"

That was her husband, all right. She hadn't spent the last six years married to Guybrush Threepwood without picking up on the fact that he was completely clueless at reading women.

Thank goodness.

"I'll tell you when you're older, sweetie." Elaine chuckled, hooking her arm through Guybrush's as they made their way toward the docks.

"Aw, that's not fair. Why can't you tell me now?"

"That would spoil the fun."

"What fun? Are you keeping secrets from me?"

"It's for your own good."

"That's what my mom always said."

"She must have been a wise woman."

"Not really. She always wanted me to be a concert pianist. That just sounds dirty."

Elaine laughed, hugging her husband's arm close. "Where would the world be without Guybrush Threepwood, Might Pirate?"

"Exactly!" he kissed her on the top of the head.

The tides were just starting to pull out. If they sailed now, they'd make their next port right on schedule.

"So…what did those two women want, really?"

The End

So, did you like it? I would love to know what you think.