Guybrush likes the vibes he’s getting off of this kid. Might actually put up a fight instead of all these other sissies.

So the tiny pirate, blond ponytail flopping behind him, rushes up to the boy with the cape and holds out his plastic replica cutlass, making a menacing pirate face as he adjusts his eye patch.

“Come and fight, ye scurvy dog!” cries Guybrush, flailing his sword, “Or surrender yer treasure and avoid an early trip to Davy Jones’s Locker! Arr!”