Hey, Professor. Do you really think that that bush's leaves are strong enough to make a raft out of?

What ever gave you that idea Gilligan?

The Skipper.

Gilligan, you imbecile. I said that maybe the Professor will take the leaves from the bush and make something we can use. I didn't say anything about a raft.

Well, it really doesn't matter. What I have found here is a source for high grade dope. In particular, this bush's flowers are about ten times more potent than opium.

Wow! And how is this going to do us any good?

Maybe we could all get high enough to fly out of here.

(laughs sillily)

Actually Gilligan you're not far off. I propose that we get one of us so hopped up on this stuff that he or she will have enough energy to swim to civilization and send help back for the rest.

Ah, maybe we ought to have used that preacher's raft the other week? Duh!

(beat)

Any thoughts on who this person should be Professor?

BOTH THE PROFESSOR AND THE SKIPPER TURN TOWARD GILLIGAN.

Oh no! Not me. I can't swim across a pool, much less an ocean.

But this is the good part. The dope is so potent that your brain will think you are piddling around in a bathtub while your body is swimming like a swordfish to someone who can save us all.

Yeah, little buddy. You could be a real hero and even get in the record books.

GILLIGAN PONDERS THE CONCEPT.

Or, maybe I could just catchup with the drifting preacher!

I don't think I have enough muscles to swim too far.

You let me worry about that. I'll use the dope again to our advantage to accelerate your weight training program. Why in a mere two weeks you'll look like Charles Atlas. I guarantee it!

THE SKIPPER PATS GILLIGAN ON THE BACK AND THE PROFESSOR SHAKES HIS HAND. GILLIGAN SMILES.

LATER ON THAT DAY.

(to Skipper)

I think I have the right proportions of this bush's flowers and other ingredients to make the potion Gilligan will need to bulk up virtually overnight.

What if it doesn't work Professor? Could my little buddy be hurt.

Dead would be a more precise word, Skipper.

THE SKIPPER GRIMACES AT THE THOUGHT.

After all, what other chance do we have? And after all, Gilligan is the most expendable cast member. Right? I mean he's a dunce of the highest magnitude.

Aren't you forgetting one minor thing? The show's name? I mean who would watch "The Professor's Island"? Or, "Mr. Howell's Island"? No one, that's who. I think you better be pretty sure about the effects your potion will have on Gilligan before you give it to him.

Pretty convincing Skipper. I always thought that having a show named after my character would be great but to hear you anticipate its title now doesn't seem so great after all.

You're telling me!

Well, it wasn't that bad!

I'll make the potion and try it out on, oh, say, Mrs. Howell. Ok?

Sounds like a winner.

AT BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING, MRS. HOWELL UNWITTINGLY SWILLS A COCONUT FULL OF THE PROFESSOR'S CONCOCTION.

How do you feel Mrs. Howell? Mrs. Howell? Oh no! I think Mrs. Howell is dead!

LATER, THE PROFESSOR AND THE SKIPPER RETHINK THEIR PLANS.

Too much of the bush flower and not enough eel renderings.

Hey Professor we're going to run out of potion testers before we get Gilligan out there to save us. There might not be any more us to save!

I see your point. Well, what would you suggest?

Why don't we just bag the whole bush-derived super-dope idea? I mean, if we get saved the show is over. Right? And, have you socked away enough dough to be comfortable for now on?

No, not really. Not what I would call comfortable.

Ditto here.

Done. Let's just get back to our simple-minded life gawking at Ginger and Mary Ann.

What? No Mrs. Howell?

Not anymore.

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

I'm sorry, who might you be?