Hey, Professor, have you seen Ginger?

No, I haven't. Why?

Because she wanted me see if I thought her new bikini made from my handkerchief looked good on her or not.

THE PROFESSOR GOES INTO A TRANCE JUST IMAGINING SUCH A THING.

Ah, Gilligan, do you need any help with this Ginger bikini thing?

GILLIGAN IS SHAKING HEAD AND SHRUGGING SHOULDERS

Gee, I don't know, Professor.

Well, maybe I'll just tag along just in case.

Ok.

AS GILLIGAN AND THE PROFESSOR START WALKING TO GINGER'S HUT MR. HOWELL STOPS THEM.

I say, have either of you chaps seen my alligator golf bag around here? I seem to have misplaced it.

GILLIGAN AND THE PROFESSOR LOOK OVER, THEN STOP TO ADDRESS MR. HOWELL.

No, Mr. Howell. We haven't seen your golf bag. Now excuse us while we continue on over to Ginger's hut to look at her new less-than-handkerchief-sized bikini she is trying on.

MR. HOWELL ALSO TEMPORARILY GOES INTO A TRANCE, SMILING BROADLY.

MR. HOWELL'S EXPRESSION BRIGHTENS.

Ah, Gilligan, Professor, do you boys need any help? Because I'd be glad to tag along in case you do.

Ok.

Gilligan, did you say that the bikini is made from a single handkerchief?

Yeah, that's right. One of those 8-inch kind. Almost no cloth. I don't know how she can do it!

THE PROFESSOR BEGINS PANTING. MR. HOWELL IS GRINNING EAR TO EAR. FINALLY THEY REACH GINGER'S HUT.

GILLIGAN KNOCKS ON HER DOOR.

Ginger? Ginger? Are you there?

Over here Gilligan!

THE PROFESSOR AND MR. HOWELL NEARLY WHIP THEIR NECKS TRYING TO TURN THEIR HEADS TO SEE WHAT THEY CAN SEE. GINGER IS BEHIND A SMALL BAMBOO GROVE.

Ah, Gilligan? I couldn't make a two-piece bikini. There wasn't enough cloth. I had to settle for just one piece. Is that ok?

Sure, Ginger.

THE PROFESSOR AND MR. HOWELL ARE IN A FULL-UP LATHER BY THIS TIME.

Ok, Gilligan. Here I come.

THE BAMBOO IS RUSTLING AS GINGER MOVES ABOUT.

(fabric ripping sounds)

Oh shoot! I snagged my topless bikini on a thorn! I'll just have to show you another time Gilligan. Sorry.

THE PROFESSOR AND MR. HOWELL ARE PARCHED AND COLLAPSE.

Hey, Ginger. Maybe I can round up more cloth for you next time.

THE PROFESSOR SIGHS AND GRITS HIS TEETH IN A SUBSTANTIAL GRIMACE.

Come on, Professor and Mr. Howell. Professor? Mr. Howell? Hey!

MR. HOWELL HAS PASSED OUT AND THE PROFESSOR HAS SLIPPED IN TO A SEMI-CONSCIOUS STATE.

JUST THEN, A MAN BEARING A STRONG RESEMBLANCE TO WALLY COX ENTERS THE SCENE FROM THE LEFT.

I'm sorry, who might you be?