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Hey, Captain?

Summary:

A brief correspondence between one Largo M. LaGrandé and G.P. LeChuck.

Notes:

I regularly flicker between whether it would be funnier for Largo's middle name to be 'Marco' or just something completely unrelated.

For the first day's prompt in the In-Universe Unusual Formats and Media Prompt Fest (bit of a mouthful, that). Workskin not required, I just like it. Feel free to disable if it fucks things up

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

LeChuck,

I thought you were gone forever. Now I hear you're getting married? I didn't think Elaine'd ever want you like that. And I wasn’t gonna come anyway, but it would’ve been nice, at least, if you had invited me.

Let me know how the wedding goes. Send a letter. If you need an address to write to, send it to the inn on Scabb. They'll know where to take it.

- L


Largo,

There are good reasons you were not invited. Do not contact me again.

- G.P. LeChuck


Chuck,

All I'm saying is that me and an old deckhand had bets on if you'd ever get married, and I really don't wanna pay the 400 bucks if you do.

If you think you're so much better than me now that you got the girl, then fine. But don't blame me for being curious.

- L

P.S. Let me know if you knock her up on your honeymoon. I've got another $200 resting on you not doing that.


Chuck,

Too busy with your new girl to write me back? I see how it is.

If you're still at Mêlée, expect a visit. I have to see this.

- L


Chuck,

It's been a week and your ship's still at Mêlée. But where are you?

Town's saying you're dead, I'm saying it's bullshit, but I found my last letter unopened & pinned to the mast, so I'm pinning this one over it and hoping you see it.

Write me back.

- L


Chuckie,

You up and died on me??? It's fine, I don't need you anyway. Settled down nice and proper on Scabb again; remember when we visited there? I miss

I got a newspaper that tries to sort out what happened to you. On Booty (?) Island they were fighting over it. Held a whole debate on who killed you, what killed you, how. I thought about going. Maybe I'd find you there.

- L


Chuckie,

Popped down to Mêlée the other day to watch them clean your blown-up ghost-guts off the dock. Marley's back in town. Not a wedding ring on her, so I still win my bet. I'll have to find the deckhand.

- L


Chuckie,

I'm still

It's not

I don't think

I want

Me and this voodoo-priest guy I found have been looking into bringing you back. Show the world what they've been missing, you know? You can come back again. We just need a piece of you.

- L


Chuckie,

You're never gonna fucking believe what I just found. We're bringing you back tonight.

It was crazy! This guy shows up holding your beard, saying HE did you in— he doesn’t look like he could win a fight even if he had the advantage. So I beat him up and took it and decided ON MY OWN to leave Scabb and come back to you, to get you back.

Anyway, I'll be seeing you soon. Just as soon as I find that fortress you made us build.

- L

Notes:

Letter/formatting code for this fic nipped off here. You, too, can comb through your collection of late 90s web graphics & tiling backgrounds in desperate search for something perfect for what you're going for here.