Guybrush followed Javert through the halls quietly, keeping his hisses of pain to himself. The last thing he needed (besides every thing that wasn't an attempt to speed up the healing process, including exactly what he was setting out to do at that second) was for the experienced inspector to send him to his room with a scolding for wandering while he was so battered. He could hear it now: go back to your room, Guybrush. Fighting in your condition is just being foolish, Guybrush. Just because we put out the fine silverware doesn't mean you have to steal it, Guybrush.

All right, that last one sounded more like Elaine than Javert, but the tone was right.

"Just a fight with my roommate," Guybrush answered as they crossed the hall. "They took him for special counseling, gave him super powers, and he punched a couch into me. Nothing too exciting."

[To here.]