that feeling when when you have to go back to the mansion after sludge in the river caused an purple octopus tentacle created by a bald mad scientist to become more intelligent, sprout arms, and vow to enslave humanity if it takes him two hundred years, prompting that same mad scientist to hurt that tentacle and his better mannered friend and advisor; a green octopus tentacle sans arms who wrote a letter to you, an uber-nerd who was in another lucasarts game a few years prior, a surfer dude named after the pennsylvanian name for a submarine sandwich, and a budding med student who is positively disconnected from most situations at hand:
