"The Isle..."
PG 13
Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...
Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental...
Part II...
Screaming and sounds of plates striking wall within the Minnow...Ginger on deck, sorting through her meager belongings...It was only supposed to be a three hour tour, after all...Professor Hinkle trying to tinker with the ship's radio transmitter...Hopeless, he was sure, but it had to be tried...Both looking over to the stairs below up which Mary Wholesomeby now ran, shocked and frightened...
Crumpt's angry screams pursuing her... "Get this slop out of my face! You're fired, you worthless little...! Who's your supervisor?! Grumbie! Kick her off the boat!" She raced for the stern, in tears, nervously shaking, taking a seat on the slanted deck.
"She doesn't work for him or you, asshole!" Ginger called back.
"Shut up! I'm in charge here! Grumbie! I'm buyin' this boat! Now! Kick that one off, too!"
"I should let him..." the Skipper winked at Miss Grant who smiled. "But he might try to claim some of the useful stuff. Sorry, Mr. Crumpt..." he raised voice. "My boat's not for sale...And these ladies are passengers too. So pipe down and either eat what we offer you or go find your own!"
"Grumbie! I'm gonna sue you! All of you!" scream...
"Oh, I'm getting off..." Ginger rolled eyes. "I need a walk anyway."
"Let me help you down, Miss Grant..." the Professor came over.
"Thanks..." she eyed him. He coming over to the railing where the ladder ran down, lengthened to reach the ground by a second, rope ladder attachment...Putting a steadying hand on the railing at the ladder...Awaiting...
Not bad...She eyed him.
Not bad at all...Still, lets find out what's what before we go on the prowl, eh girl?
"Careful..." he cautioned as she clambered over...
Ok, we can do a nice little stroll and get to know...She blinked as he left her as she stepped on the rope ladder's first rung.
"Skipper? I want to try and see if I can bypass this broken bulb. Do you have an insulated wrench?"
"I'll get it from the tool kit, Professor, just a sec." Grumbie rose and head to the pilot cabin.
Ginger staring from the ladder as Ms. Wholesomeby came over to her...
"Can I go too? I'd like to see the island."
"Yeah...Sure." Ginger frowned over at the professor...
Geesh...A lot richer and better-looking guys than you haven't gotten as far as you just had the chance too, buddy...
"Here you go, Professor..." the Skipper had returned with desired object.
"Thanks..." Hinkle began fussing with the wrench.
"Say, ladies." The Skipper called. "Be careful out there...Don't go too far from the boat. Remember Gillligan's still checking the area. Especially keep clear of those woods till we know what's in there."
"We will, Skipper." Mary called from ladder, waving...Urging Ginger now to continue on down.
Geesh...Not even running to be my knight protector....Ginger looked over at the Skipper.
What's with these guys?
"Miss Grant?" Mary called.
"Yeah...?"
"Could you go on down? I can't go further."
"Sure, yeah..." she descended to the ground.
...
A fuming Crumpt climbed the stairs... "Hey! You! Grumbie!" he pointed a fat finger at Jonas, now beside the Professor, eyeing the radio transmitter's scattered parts as the Professor examined and set aside various components.
"Mr. Crumpt." Grumbie nodded to him.
"Those dames leave Iike I tole them? Good..." Crumpt nodded. "Don't let em back on my boat."
"It's my boat, sir...And I'm Captain and they stay." Grumbie, sternly regarding the large, florid-faced man.
"I just bought this shitpile." Crumpt eyed him, eyes narrow, nostrils flaring...
"You did not, sir." Grumbie regarded him. "Now if you don't have a question to ask, either go below or find something useful to do."
"You don't tell Crumpt what to do!"
"On this boat, I do." Grumbie, firmly.
"I'm gonna sue you...You, there, in the white shirt!" Crumpt turned to Hinkle. "You're hired...Security. Grab dis guy!"
"No." the Professor looked up briefly.
"Jesus...Christ...I'll have you in jail, Grumbie! All you clowns locked up!" Crumpt fumed.
"For what?" Hinkle eyed him. "I know you're known for hounding innocent and defenseless folks but what would you charge us with?"
"When I'm President...I won't need ta 'charge' anybody...What I say will go! Who are you, anyway?!"
"Just a fellow passenger, friend. Who thinks you ought to go below and pipe down."
"Who is this guy, Grumbie?!" Crumpt bellowed.
"I don't give out names of my passengers, Mr. Crumpt." the Skipper shrugged. "Except to the authorities when necessary."
"I am the Authority, Grumbie!"
"Not on my boat and not yet in my country, sir. And even the President, should you manage to win the nomination and the election, is only the elected chief magistrate." the Skipper eyed him.
"I hear Rubio and Romney lead in the polls in your party, now that that fellow Trwump's gone to jail for fraud over that phony university." Hinkle noted.
Red-face, narrow piggy eyes focused on him... "You fucking little nobody!"
"That's enough mister...Pipe down and go below or get off my boat." the Skipper ordered.
Crumpt looking at him...Fuming with rage...Veins popping on head.
Hmmn...We may not have to bother about this...Grumbie eyed the raging maniac.
"#% $ !" Crumpt screamed, turning and heading down the stairs... "Lovely?!" they heard him call... "Go kick their asses!"
"Fred?" her voice...
"I said Go!" bellow.
The Professor eyed the Skipper...Smiling...
Mrs. Crumpt wearily coming up the stairs... "Excuse me...Fred's indisposed. I apologize if he lost his temper, he's very upset."
"LOVELY!" a scream...
"As you hear..." she sighed. "Sorry...Let us know if you learn anything about when we can go home." she turned.
"Jesus, lady..." Ginger had come back up the ladder..."Don't go back down there with him."
Need my purse...She explained to the Skipper who eyed her, a bit ...
"No...See..." she opened it. "I got mace and this blowhorn thing...Plus a blackjack an ole boyfriend of mine gave me. He was in the Mob...We broke up when I found out but he wanted me to keep it for protection. A nice guy in some ways, really..."
Oh...The Skipper nodded.
Weary shrug of shoulders without looking back... "Made the bed, lie in it." Mrs. Crumpt continued down...
"God, talk about it not being worth it..." Ginger looked after her, shaking head.
"Well..." Mary Wholesomeby had rejoined the group, climbing back up, not really finding the empty beach a comfortable waiting place, nor wishing to stroll alone. "She did say he was upset...We all are, after all. Oooh, no offense, Mr. Grumbie." she hastily added. "We know it wasn't your fault we were stranded here, wherever we are."
"Thanks, ma'am." the Skipper nodded. "We'll try to get you all home soon as possible. Gilligan's searching the island for any signs of civilization as well as food and water, and Professor Hinkle here is working on the radio transmitter."
"Oh, good." Mary nodded, beaming. "I'm sure with God's help you'll get us home soon. After all, Mr. Crumpt is a very important man, they'll be looking for him."
Will they...? The Skipper smiled at her, nodding...
"Why, sure..."
"Just where are we, by the way? Do you know?" Ginger asked.
"We're determining that...But roughly a thousand miles from Hawaii to the southeast..." Grumbie noted.
"A thousand miles?" Ginger stared.
"That's not really so far nowadays..." Mary noted happily.
"And no signs of civilization so far?" Ginger asked.
"Not yet, but there are a lot of islands out here, a lot with people on them and some contact with the rest of the world..." the Skipper noted.
"Great..." she frowned sourly.
"Miss Grant, the Skipper's doing all he can. He wasn't responsible for the storms that blew us out to sea, in fact his seamanship and his mate's work saved our lives." the Professor noted.
"Yeah, I know...Sorry..." She put up a hand. "It's just not the way I wanted my vacation to go, ok?" she smiled wanly.
"I understand...I will get you all home." the Skipper, firmly.
Well, all but one...If you don't become liabilities...
After all we'll need witnesses that Crumpt died a natural, more or less, death...
"Ok, well. You still coming?" Ginger eyed Mary. "Let see if we can go find...What's the kid's name again?" she turned to Grumbie.
"Gilligan..."
"Gilligan, right..." nod.
"Oh...Are you sure he's ok out there by himself?" Mary asked, anxiously. "He has declared himself to Jesus and been saved, hasn't he?"
"I don't think so, no." the Skipper shrugged. "But he's fine. He's not going far and he'll come back if he sees anything dangerous."
Not that there's likely anything more dangerous than Will Gill(igan).
"And we'll be there too, if we go...He'll be fine...Come on..." Ginger urged.
"Oh, certainly." Mary followed her back to the ladder and down...
"Miss Grant...?" she addressed Ginger.
"Yeah..." Ginger peering to the horizon...No sign of the kid as yet. Nothing. Nada...Just sand, the jungle and woods to the right, the sea to the left...
"Do you think, not meaning to intrude...That you might try wearing something a bit less...Revealing...Amongst the men? I have some very nice garments I'd brought along to give to the poor natives on the island I was to be dropped at."
"What?" Ginger stared. "What poor natives? And what sort of garments? Nevermind, I can imagine the garments..." she eyed Mary's gingham dress.
"Why the poor natives of Maui..." Mary noted. "My pastor said they're in need but I had very little money left to contribute so I asked if I could drop off clothes and he said..."
"'F-you, where's my dough?'" Ginger asked, sarcastically.
"After that...Though it was, 'Where's God's dough?'" Mary noted.
....
Very pretty lady...Igor, watching Ginger on screen of his cell phone as he rode elevator to surface, various camouflaged cameras in close up on the Minnow's deck.
I have seen that lady before...Oh, wait...Is that? Ginger Grant? Igor blinked at his phone screen as the elevator stopped.
Wow. A real movie star...I've seen so many of her films and TV shows...I can't believe I'm unfortunately for her going to meet her.
The elevator door opened in the rock face that camouflaged it. He pocketed his phone, cautiously peered out, moving some phony vegetation away as he stepped out.
"Amelia?" he hissed cautiously, moving carefully into the jungle around the rock face. "Here, Amelia...Here chick, chick, chick...Got some nice grain for you." He shook a box full of grain... "C'mon, Amelia, it's Igor...Your friend...I wanna help you."
...
Gill(igan) cautiously surveying the beach ahead. He'd been walking down it for over a mile without seeing a sign of any people or habitation.
So far, so good...And he'd noted some coconut palms...Potential for some food, at least, along with whatever fish swam near and any animals...
Some low plants in the jungle and forest bordering on the beachfront seemed likely edible, probably herbs. He'd need to confirm it, probably with that Professor...Hinkle? Yes...
Interesting there were no old signs of the island's use as yet...The cleanup must have been thorough...
Hmmn...He perked up ears at a sound...
Was that...A chicken?
Ooops...He stumbled on some wood...
Charred wood...
Ah, somebody...And not too long ago...Built a fire here.
Too crude for trained personnel...Either a native or some schnook who got him- or her- self lost or wrecked here...He looked about...
Nothing, nobody...
But time to bring out that good ole Gillligan, bumbling and stumbling but always with the best intentions...
Here too...Namely intelligence gathering and saving the United States from its worst traitor and his foreign partners.
Those gotta be pretty good intentions, however ruthlessly applied.
"Hello?!" he called. "Sorry if I wrecked your fire...I didn't see it till I stepped in it." he sheepishly noted. "Hello? Anyone there?! My friends and I were just stranded here, we could use some help...!"
Yes, to the right, trying to hide in the brush and trees there...That crackling a dead giveaway. Two, I'd say, a large man, not greatest of shape...And a woman...Or a thin man.
"Keep down, Karen!" the said large man hissed to his companion, a tall, rather formidably plain woman, both in the remnants of track suits. She frowning at him...
"We oughta take him...I can take him." she noted.
"He doesn't seem to be one of them..." the man shook head. "Maybe he's just another castaway...Maybe one of us? We keep finding people we didn't know were on the plane?"
"Nah, he's too well dressed..." Karen frowned.
"He's coming this way...He's spotted us!" the man, nervously.
"Impossible...We're too well..." she began...Glaring at the man as a loud fart came from him.
"Damnit, Steve!"
"Sorry...I said I had to use the facilities before we came out here..." Steve sighed. "All that coconut oil doesn't agree with me."
"Hey!" Gilligan waved at them...Having decided not to kill on sight. "It's ok, I'm just trying to find anyone I can...You can come on out, I won't..." Probably... "Hurt you." he noted.
Bck! Bck! A large chicken came running between him and the two hidden others...
"It's that chicken again!" Steve cried, rising. "Hey, catch that chicken, will ya?!" he called to Gilligan, hopping a bit on badly injured right leg.
Karen, sighing, but rising as well, her left leg likewise badly injured. The two leaning on each other...
"Sorry...She got away." Gilligan noted, smiling at them.
Hmmn...Balinkoff, in his office, scanning monitor screens.
So...Some of my former "guests"...Mah, ha, ha, hahah... Did survive.
Why, it's Steve? Oh, how nice...I rather liked Steve...He thought.
Oh...Karen, too...Frown.
Great...Sour look.
Thought for sure we'd seen the last of her..Well...
I'm sure I can permanently improve her attitude now...Get her to smile a little, once in a while.
And then, a little make-up...Maybe a new hair style...