"The Isle..."

"The Isle..." Part X...

"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 X...

"Hey, Grumbie!" bellow from below. "Grumbie?! Where the fuck are you?!"

"Busy Mr. Crumpt, what is it?" Jonas called down. Pausing in his inventory and log-writing.

"I want my lunch. A coupla of burgers, fries, a chocolate shake, chocolate cake. Get it down here!"

"We have some hamburger but none of the rest. It'll be one, when the others get here. There's water in the canteen by your bed if you're thirsty..."

"Fuck the 'others'. I want it now! Get it!"

"I'm busy and we eat when the others get back."

"Goddamn you, you're fired!"

"Whatever, pal."

Sounds of rummaging... "Hey, where's the burgers! There's just frozen meat here!"

"Has to be cooked, pal. Close that freezer now."

"MR. CRUMPT, asshole!"

"Not to me, pal. Put that stuff back and close the freezer, now."

"Gota hell!"

My fault for not putting a padlock on it, like the cooler, Grumbie sighs. Good thing Gill(igan) locked up all the other food in the main locker.

"If I have to interrupt my work and come down there to clean up, I'll have to tie you up, pal."

"The Hell you will! I punched out my eighty-five year old music teacher when I was twelve and I can take you, you piece of shit!"

"I hear she punched you out when you tried to slap her and your dad sent you to military school to keep you outta trouble." Chuckle. "But if you wanna see if I can still kick your head in...?"

Hey, self-defense, works for me...If I can just make it look like I didn't know how to kill a man with one blow...

It can be a problem when you're that good. Gill is better at concealing his ability, I gotta give the kid that.

"Shudup. I put the crap back. Get it cooked for me."

"When the others get here. Not before."

"Well, call em up and tell em to get back here!"

"No cell phone works, and we have no radios to hand out, pal. They'll be back when Gill(igan) and Professor Hinkle finish their survey. But they might have some good news for us."

"If they find the nearest city, I wanna copter or limo here to take me in."

"Sure, pal." Chuckle.

Gotta admit I love this clown's antics. Hope we can keep him alive for another day or two...

"Grumbie! I wanna a Coke, not this water crap!"

"Ok, you can have one in a few minutes. I'll have to unlock the cooler. We can't leave the power on and the ice'll melt if I..."

"Fuck all that! I wan it now!"

"Stick a sock in it, pal. I'll be down in a few."

Really, the guy's a riot. Chuckle, returning to his inventory...

...

"You found one of the chickens?" Steve eagerly asked the Professor.

"We saw it. So there are others?"

"A few..." Karen noted. "We've caught and eaten most. I guess the natives left them."

"Natives? Savage heathen? Or the lovable Disney kind?" Mary asked, fearfully.

Of course it would be a chance to bring the Light of the Lord upon their dark and ignorant faces...

But these people steal, when they don't rape you and kill you...And then insist it's your dad or uncle or cousin Henry in that fancy college who did the raping. Even though for good Republicans, getting some action is just the normal way of virile young men and middle-aged men...And some wealthy older men. So long as it's not a respectable white woman...Unless of course she's become a slut like those women who want choice and are on TV talking about their "rights".

"Who knows?" Karen shrugged. "There's some kind of village up the mountain slope and we found a few huts but no one's around. They all must've left a while back. Though the village is strange, man."

"Strange?" the Professor eyed her. "How so?"

"It looks fake." Steve shook head. "Like it's never been lived in."

"Potemkin village, CIA if you ask me." Karen noted.

Uh-huh...Ginger eyed the Professor... Mentally twirling finger.

"Well, we ought to check it out, can we get there before sunset?" the Professor asked.

"I doubt it, it's very rough climbing and nearly eight miles to the east, by my reckoning." Steve, shrewd look.

My reckoning...Karen mouthed.

"That is long way." Lovely sighed. "But if you wish, I will try." She eyed the Professor.

Ginger rolling eyes...Karen rolling eyes.

Mrs. Crumpt is a noble woman, just as Faux News says, though of course a worthless slut compared to Mrs. Trump. Oh, why do all the other media lie so? Mary sighed.

Though really...If that woman chooses to angle for a man not her own by trying to impress him with an eight mile climb up a mountainside today, after all we've been through...The bitch can go by herself, she exhaustedly thought.

Forgive me, Jesus and Sean Hannity.

Though it was Sean who did say he'd uncovered evidence on her that he'd release if her husband became a threat to the man he now favors as more American and godly.

"I dunno if we should try that today, Professor..." Gilligan shook head.

"No, I think we can save that for tomorrow. We should get our new friends back to the boat and assess what we've learned." The Professor agreed. "But I am worried about your friend, this Todd? Shouldn't we fetch him as well?"

"Drag him across the jungle, then down the beach?" Steve shrugged. "Sounds like a death sentence to me."

"He's been fine for weeks, one more night won't make a difference." Karen nodded.

"Oh, we mustn't leave a fellow...He is a Christian?" Mary eyed Karen and Steve.

"I doubt it." Karen shrugged. "He kinda looked Jewish to me." Steve noted, shrewd look to Karen.

We done busted enough balls for Toddy to spend hours getting his drooling comatose body to our new home with shower.

"Well, even so..." Mary waved a hand. "I'll help move him, if you'll show me the way."

"We should all go." The Professor insisted. "It's a chance to assess what you have." He eyed Karen and Steve...

Our stuff...They want...Our stuff... Karen, sidelong glance to Steve.

All we got is some old monkey meat, a couple of knives, three straw mats, some old coconuts, and dirty laundry. Lots of that which we need to wash anyway. And the crazy bible freak looks like a good washer...Steve eyed her.

And of course...My assault rifle...Karen eyed him back.

Which long ago you fired off the last shot from...Steve, returning look.

"Fine. Lets go." Karen, resigned. "It's that way..." she pointed.

All looking to see a chicken racing across the worn jungle path she'd pointed out.

...