Send Help!

Guess Who We Found

"I'm perfectly fine." Paul insisted.

"No you aren't! You can't remember something that happened five minutes ago! Just stay in the hut with John and Mary Ann."

"But-"

"The Skipper, Professor, and Gilligan are out looking for Ringo. Don't worry."

Paul groaned and layed in the bed next to John as Ginger stepped out of the hut. He sighed deeply then realized something. He sat up straight in alert. "George!"

"Oh, what about George?" Mary Ann asked.

"He- he was on the ground and he couldn't get up! Then the headhunters came!"

"And?!?" John asked.

"I ran." Paul said, embarrassed.

"Then where's George!?!"

"Um..."

"Paul!"

"I don't know where he is! I ran! But the headhunters followed me, so they didn't hurt him."

"It's always the hungry one..." John sighed.

.........

"Professor, where do we start? He could be anywhere on the island!" The Skipper said, looking around.

"Now, now, he's got to be somewhere."

"Yeah, but the only problem is, where is somewhere?" Gilligan asked.

"Well, he most likely isn't out in the open."

"And why do you say that, Professor?"

"Well, where would you hide someone if you were a headhunter?"

"I wouldn't think of that, because I'd make such a bad headhunter, I'd never get anyone to hide!" Gilligan remarked, getting a smack on the head with The Skipper's hat as usual.

"You wouldn't hide it in the open, now would you?"

"I wouldn't?"

"No, no, of course not! Much too obvious for a hiding spot!"

"Help," a small voice quivered on the ground.

Gilligan whipped his head around. "George!" He said, helping his friend up unsuccessfully. "You okay?"

"To be honest, no. My legs went limp and Paul ran off without helping me, so I think you get the idea."

"It must've been the carare!" The Professor realized. "Can you walk?"

"If I could, I would've stood up and yelled at Paul already."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait until the carare wears off."

"How long'll that take?"

"I'm not too sure, but no more than, oh, two hours."

"Two hours!?!" George whined.

"Oh, don't complain. You've got the lucky end of the stick. Some cases have been known to last twelve hours, sometimes more."

George sighed. "Can I at least eat something?"

"Oh, no. You mustn't. It could extend the time of the effect of the carare."

"WORST. DAY. EVER."