I cursed my luck again as I slid down the monkey's throat. Have my dreams of guzzling grog and plundering galleons been reduced to this? "Three small trials and you're a pirate like us," they said. Fair enough. If only I could stomach the foul brew these scurvy seadogs swilled, the rest would be easy. How could I have known I'd meet a powerful and beautiful woman with a jealous suitor too stupid to realize he'd been dead for years? And how can I crawl through this great stone monkey to find a man who walks three inches above the ground and sets fire to his beard every morning? Do business with quaint and humble shopkeepers. Participate in complex and meaningful dialogues. Visit interesting places and steal stuff. Experience the never-ending nightlife of Melee Island.
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This was way too much dopamine than my brain could handle at the time, so of course after being told that, not only did such a game exist, but it also is one full of PIRATES and ADVENTURE (!!!), the right thing to do was to boot it up and drop it almost immediately after.
It all made sense, pirates have been romanticized to death : they're brave, adventurous, out-there people with their paraphernalia of swords, parrots, wood legs and hooks, surprisingly warm figures for the imagination, and an illusion that Guy Threepwood seems to be the last one to still believe in.
It's a deeply charming game that time, somehow, hasn't even been able to approach, let alone touch.
Every. Damn. Line. Works to a point it's pretty much unbelievable, it's already a feat to write comedic dialogue that always sticks the landing, but still managing to hit at full intensity over 30 years later is the stuff of legendary writing.
It took me a whole decade of my life to travel back and forth from Monkey Island, but the feeling of closure these fireworks brought might, in fact, be an even more incredible experience than getting out of the final labyrinth that haunted a child's mind.