Though we made it back to the beach in record time, we heard yet another volcanic rumble on the way; they were definitely growing more frequent. Fortunately though, my raft was still where we left it. Elaine and I climbed on and paddled to the ship with the yardarm and Apple Bob's arm. They'd turned out surprisingly handy - pun intended - especially Bob's, who had a strong crawl stroke. Elaine got a slight greenish twinge once or twice when the raft spun in circles while also rocking side to side at the same time. But like her usual plucky self, she never uttered a word of complaint.

"It's a rush job," I apologized as I secured the raft to the anchor rope. "But I think she's got at least the trip back in her."

"It would be wonderful if you'd apply your skills after this adventure, sweetie," Elaine said while climbing up the ship side. "Our house could use some improvements."

"I'll get right on it later," I optimistically overpromised.

On the upper deck, we found the solitary figure of LeChuck, standing silently by the wheel.

"Elaine," he said uncomfortably once he noticed us. "Threepweed."

"What, no greeting stab?" I answered after once again pausing to almost pet Scruffles and contemplate ringing the ship's bell.

"Don't get used to it," LeChuck said irately. "I'm looking forward to the end of our truce."

That confirmed he was the same LeChuck as I encountered in the church earlier, but I realized that I'd never checked his identity then.

(WARNING: MI3 SPOILER)

"What did you use to turn Elaine into a gold statue again?"

Elaine rolled her eyes as LeChuck grumbled, "For the last time, I wasn't going to give her that ring! You're the one who stole it and got engaged!"

(END OF MI3 SPOILER)

"Yup, it's definitely LeChuck," I said.

"Ahh." LeChuck folded his arms. "What did I and me crew have for dinner on the first of February?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I stole your diary for Lila's disguise spell, not memorized it."

"What was it like?" Elaine asked.

"There was a lot about catchphrases, and you and me actually. I don't think he's got many friends."

"You haven't much room to point fingers there," Elaine chided me. "You always introduce yourself by telling everyone how many times you've defeated LeChuck. It's hardly a polite icebreaker."

"Anyway," LeChuck interrupted loudly.

(WARNING: MI2 SPOILER)

"What is at the top of the Dinky Island elevator?"

"I thought we don't talk about that," I answered firmly. "I'm not sure which was weirder, that or the abandoned theme park we just left. I guess both are just plain creepy."

(END OF MI2 SPOILER)

"It seems that ye be the genuine article." LeChuck glanced around. "Were ye followed?"

"Not that we know of," Elaine said. "We haven't seen the pirate leaders at all, except Captain Trent from a distance."

"Have you?" I asked.

"That infernal Lila dogged me across the island," LeChuck growled. "She was trying to herd me back into the caverns to trap me. I finally shook her and returned to me ship. They shouldn't be able to spy on us here from on shore."

"I don't like it." I shuffled my feet nervously. "We should hurry."

"With what?" LeChuck's ghostly flames burned higher in frustration. "Between Lila and all the blasted jungle, I found nothing."

"Not us," I declared proudly.

"We wanted to wait to decode it with you," Elaine told him politely.

"To be fair, we mean." I withdrew the paper scrap and Madison's book from my pockets. "We could have done it just fine on our own."

LeChuck started mumbling, clearly unable to express his pleased gratitude. I didn't bother waiting and instead got on with it. It sure felt strange; I usually just solved puzzles, not explained them.

"Elaine and I found this written on the back of the stone tablet in the lowest cavern," I said, tapping my scrawl on the paper. "It doesn't make any sense on its own, but a lot of the same words show up in the list written on that scrap Trent dropped. Then we run into those weird symbols that have been popping up everywhere."

I handed the paper over to Elaine and began thumbing through Madison's annoying book. "Since appendices are almost always alphabetical" - there was a phrase I'd never thought I'd say on an adventure, excluding that one time I was surrounded by ferocious jellyfish whose only weakness was words beginning in 'A' - "then that means we can translate the symbols on this list, and then put them into the mystery poem."

We settled on a system where I looked up the weird letters in the book, LeChuck noted them on Trent's list, and Elaine wrote the substitutions on the tablet poem, after I'd torn it off from the list.

"Okay, here it is." Elaine carefully crossed through the last replaced word. She read aloud:

"Four pirates on a

Dead three-headed monkey's chest,

Do re re and

A mug of grog."

"The edits didn't improve the flow," I stated the obvious. "I wonder if the author takes criticism."

LeChuck ignored me. "Will it open the Secret?"

"I won't stand for animal cruelty, no matter how important the Secret may be," Elaine told us both sternly.

"No, there won't be any," I said, slowly putting it all together. "I'm pretty sure I see what to do. The only problem is getting grog." I turned to LeChuck. "Do you have any leftover from your crew's landing celebration?"

"No," he growled. "Just one Grog Lite." He nodded towards a small reinforced can sitting forlornly on the deck.

"Wow, it must have been some party," I chatted as I went to pick it up. "Did you all make toasts to what a stellar swabbie I'd been and the many messes I purged from your lives?"

"If you mean the huge mess we purged by throwing you off the ship, then aye, we all drank to that," LeChuck riposted.

"We'll see if you're still saying that the next time a flock of seagulls flies over." I examined the can closer. "I wonder what the difference is between Grog Lite and regular grog."

"Let me check the list of ingredients," Elaine offered. "I remember all of the main ones, except the last, funnily enough."

"Really? I thought you couldn't stand grog," I said curiously as I handed the can over.

"The Foundation looked into it as a potential cure for scurvy. The researchers were very enthusiastic about testing it."

"Did it work?"

"No, quite the opposite."

"We need the full potency," fretted LeChuck. "No second chances."

"I think I remember the last ingredient," I volunteered. "It's on the tip of my tongue. Figuratively, of course."

To be honest, I'd seen a collection of odd and alarming drink-related recipes, so it was hard to narrow it down. I went through the likely suspects.

"Was it cilantro?"

"No. You're thinking of cocktails," Elaine said. "By the by, it's been awhile since we visited the hotel on Blood Island. I wonder if we still have a discount."

"Was it…" I shuddered. "Porcelain?"

LeChuck snorted scornfully.

"I still don't understand why exactly you have such an aversion to porcelain," Elaine said gently.

"Please don't ask." What else… "How about root beer?"

Now it was LeChuck's turn to shudder.

"No, that's it's own drink." Elaine frowned. "Are you sure you remember it?"

"Don't worry, I've narrowed down now. It's pepperoni, isn't it?"

"That's it!" Elaine looked pleased but pained. "Though I wish I could forget again. Anyway, that means we need to add propylene glycol, artificial sweeteners, red dye no. 2, and pepperoni**."

"Arrr. Just like how the Scumm Bar brews it," LeChuck said fondly.

"Nothing like it," I agreed. "Not that I ever had the grog there myself," I added hastily after seeing Elaine's reaction.

"I know. You wouldn't be here breathing if you had," she said serenely. "I hope you're not going to tell me someone's drinking it for the Secret."

"No," I answered, considering the poem. "No one living, anyway, if I'm right."

"In that case, let me check my emergency kit," Elaine offered.

"I'll raid the galley." LeChuck stalked off.

"Good news, sugar boots," Elaine exclaimed soon after. "There's propylene glycol and red dye no. 2 in this packet of biscuits, according to the nutrition label. I should read these more often when shopping."

"Wow, you sure came prepared," I said, impressed as usual.

"Anything can happen," she said. "And it usually does - especially since I met you."

"Same for me!" I stepped closer and held her hand.

LeChuck cleared his throat to interrupt us. "This is the only thing the ship's cook left behind." He held up what looked like a string of dubious sausages.

Putra made those? Good thing I was thrown overboard before dinner. "If anything goes wrong, I'm blaming your pepperoni," I warned.

"It's not like we have other options, what with the volcano and the state Melee's in," Elaine reminded me. "Have you got anything, Guybrush?"

"What else do we need again?"

"Artificial sweeteners."

"I'm not sure I have that exactly," I said, peering into my pockets. "Too bad keys or coins aren't ingredients. I've found lots of those."

"Just do your best with what you've got, sweetie."

The only thing remotely sweet I had on me, as I discovered after regretfully biting into a spare lime and peering vainly into my mug for a leftover drop of that fruity avocado drink, was the smell of the purple flower I'd picked in Melee's forest. Experts say that, in general, natural sweetener is better than artificial anyway, right? I'd been planning on surprising Elaine with it later, but there were plenty more where it came from, and this was a noble cause. "I've got something for the sweetener," I announced as I put it along with the can back in my pockets. "We should wait to combine them when we get there," I decided, recalling a previous adventure. I only had the one mug, after all.

"Where's 'there'?" prodded LeChuck. "Don't think you're leaving me out of this!"

"No, we'll go together." If I was interpreting this right, we needed him. Also, it was getting kind of annoying thinking of things to test each other with. "Follow me!"

Once again, we ended up in the monkey caverns without coming across another soul. We did hear a deep rumbling echo while hurrying down the stairwells, and braced ourselves in case of tremors, but it quieted down.

"This may not the safest place to be," Elaine noted grimly.

"This began with the Secret ritual," LeChuck intoned. "That means it will end with it. All the more reason to hurry."

"We're almost there." Seconds later, I drew to a stop in front of the final monkey statue - or rather, the lower half of one. Sparks fizzled from the shorn-off circuits that should have been concealed in its stomach. "Here's the 'dead' monkey!"

"But not three-headed," LeChuck said ominously. "I knew I couldn't rely on a bumbling fool like you."

"Hey! I'm getting to that," I retorted. "First, he needs a chest."

I placed the Secret chest on top of the broken structure. The greasy mug wouldn't balance on its curved top, so I stuck Apple Bob's arm on the side to have somewhere to hang it from. The skeletal arm kept on spilling it - maybe Bob was craving some coffee while poring over construction budgets somewhere - so the mug ended up dangling loosely from the yardarm instead.

"I just need to pick up the skulls and Murray from my ship," I said, surveying my sculpture. "Then we can mix the ingredients, and we should be good to go."

"We'll stay here and guard the secret chamber," Elaine offered. "See you soon, sweetie!"

I headed for the doorway, but lingered just inside of it.

She could see I was hesitant to leave her there. "I've been monitoring the volcanic activity," she confided. "We've got enough time left."

"How much?" I murmured.

"I'd say enough time for a final battle, much less unlocking the secret. But I don't want to jinx us." Wise, as usual. "Remember, we need to finish this to settle it down. And if I'm wrong, we'll leave straight away. Just hurry back safely!"

I ran through the cavern portal to Melee and all the way to the docks. To my relief, the Sea Monkey II still floated just where I'd left her.

"How'd you like to go on a little trip, Murray?" I asked as I retrieved the two skulls I needed from their decorative chain.

"Would you be on it too?" Murray asked sullenly. "If so, my answer's no."

"Don't be like that." I walked back to the dock in front of my clacking figurehead. "You get to learn hidden knowledge, something no one's ever seen before."

"Normally, I'd say you need knowledge way more than I do," Murray said with a snide look. Or maybe it was more of a sour look; it was hard to tell with talking skulls. "But the seagulls here are really rude. They keep ignoring my evil offers to join forces, much less have the basic decency to flee in fear from my threats of destruction. Speaking of: you're not planning on squashing or hurling me again, are you?"

"Nope. You just get to sit there - or, stay there - and watch." I hoped.

"Very well. Bear me there, minion."

"Thanks, Murray!" I pulled him from the prow, and turned around to head back. Unfortunately, I was stopped by a blade to my throat.

Madison's henchman and woman waited at the dock steps with their swords drawn. If only I'd left the skulls at Monkey Island instead of decorating my ship with them, I lamented silently. Though with how my luck usually went, that just meant I'd have been ambushed there instead.

"You're outnumbered, and outclassed," Lila taunted. "Carry those skulls and come quietly."

"Count again, foolish mortal! It is two against two!" Murray shouted from beneath my arms, which I'd wrapped around him in surprise. "Though I can't argue about outclassing my minion.

"It's not over, Lila," I told her stubbornly. "I have the high ground!"

Trent looked embarrassed on my behalf. "We are literally standing above you right now."

"I meant morally," I explained.

That just made them laugh without wavering from their stance. "It's cute that you think that makes a difference," Lila snickered, moving to poke at my ribs with the tip of her blade. "Move."

I sighed. This was far from my first time held at sword point at terrible odds; I never looked forward to what came next.

**A/N: WARNING: The Monkey Island grog recipe is fictional and some of the ingredients are poisonous. I know you already know this and that that's the joke in-game anyway, but I'm just including this note for my own peace of mind :)