Huh. Those looked useful. Guybrush risked a gander behind him, just in case he had his own brigade of air bubbles. Unfortunately he didn’t; the pirate turned back, disappointed.

“If you insist,” he shrugged, “Just don’t come running back to me when one asks you for directions. Ah, assuming it needs directions. The psychic powers might do funny stuff to their sense of direction.”

…Yeah.

“And since you so eagerly asked, I’m Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™. Nice to meet you, Ava.”