Eleven

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You scoff and tell Paul to go and stick his head in a freezer. There is no way you're going to climb a tree that's the same height as a seven-storey building, so he can just forget it.

"Fine, little Miss Prit," Paul says stiffly. "I'll climb up and look for them."

"Fine, you so that," you say.

"Fine, I will."

"Fine.

"Fine."

"What's fine?" says John, suddenly emerging from the bushes. He carrying a huge jug (retrieved from the lifeboat) full of fresh drinking water. Ringo is trotting along behind him, dragging a huge tarpaulin full of fruits, coconuts, and shellfish.

"Where the hell did you find all that?" Paul asks, awestruck.

"We just nipped up to the 24-hour Fruit, Coconut, and Shellfish corner shop," John replied. He bursts out laughing at Paul's expression. "Joke, Paulie! Just joking! No, Ringo and I scraped together all this nosh by climbing a few trees."

"I found the shellfish in a little rock pool!" Ringo says proudly.

"And this water is from a little spring about five minutes away," John says, gesturing to his full jug.

You're experiencing some mixed feeling upon hearing all of this. On one hand, you and the lads have enough provisions to last for weeks! On the other hand... this all sounds too good to be true. You're a bit skeptical but decide not to mention it.

"Great!" says George, tying the last little bit of the makeshift awning to the tree. "Let's get stuck in!"

The lads suddenly pounce on the food and water before you know what's happening. John snatches up a handful of berries. Paul and George grab a coconut each and start bashing them on near by rocks. Ringo looks at the water jug with a thirsty lip of his lips.

They all look at you, then they offer you some of their rations. It's sweet of them and you don't want to be rude by turning them down.

If you choose to accept some of John's brightly coloured berries, go to Twelve.

If you choose to take a sip from the water jug, go to Thirteen.

If you choose to have some of George and Paul's yummy looking coconuts, go to Fourteen.

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