Story Summary- Gilligan is hit on the head and becomes a ladies' man.
A/N: There was once an episode of Dusty's Trail where Dusty ate some berries and returned to camp 'brimming with confidence'. I have never seen the episode - I believe it's one of the DT eps that was sadly lost forever. But this idea is loosely based on that. A confident Gilligan is something I'd sure like to see.
Story rated T just to be on the safe side as there will be more chapters to follow. Big shout out to JWood201 who never lets me forget a story idea and makes sure I get it written!
Please R&R, and I will love you forever and a day.
The Coconut Casanova
It was without a doubt the hottest day of the year so far. The air was thick with moisture and the sun was a harsh white disc that glared unblinkingly down from the sky and made everything shimmer. Insects droned lazily, animals huddled in the shade and even the birds were quiet, subdued by the intense heat.
First Mate Willy Gilligan sat at the top of the coconut tree with sweat running down his temples and his shirt sticking to his back and the Skipper yelling at him from down below to hurry up. The machete was getting tangled up in the thick, leafy fronds as he chopped away at a particularly stubborn bunch of coconuts.
"Gilligan, I'm getting a sore neck from looking up at you! What are you doing up there?" the Skipper shouted impatiently. He was hot and bothered and sweat patches were beginning to ring the armpits of his blue shirt.
"Don't worry, Skipper, I'll be down soon," Gilligan yelled back, leaning forward as far as he could to hack at the coconuts.
"If Mary Ann doesn't get these coconuts, she won't be able to make coconut crème pie!" the Skipper said with a rising note of panic in his voice.
"Oh, boy, that would be terrible!" Gilligan agreed. He gripped the machete tightly and leaned forward even more until he was hanging half way out of the tree. There was a big, fat bunch of ripened coconuts hanging right beneath him, perfect for coconut crème pies, and he was determined to get them all.
The white hot sun flashed through the swaying fronds and jabbed Gilligan in the eye, making him squint and blink, losing concentration momentarily. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he brandished the machete, took a mighty swing at the coconuts, and began chopping, filling the air with loud grunts of exertion.
Coconuts began to drop into the basket placed below. Gilligan was about to congratulate himself for doing something right when suddenly there was an ominous crack and the palm frond he was leaning on began to give way. He looked up and blinked. The palm frond creaked again and began to dip downwards.
"Uh-oh..." he gulped, scrabbling behind him for a firmer hand hold.
"Yes, that would be terrible, and you'd have no-one to blame but yourself!" The Skipper was still pacing under the tree and complaining, oblivious to what was happening above him. He didn't hear the splintering crack of the palm frond as it peeled away from the trunk, carrying Gilligan with it.
"Skipper!" Gilligan sheathed the machete quickly and grabbed onto the palm frond for dear life. "Oh, no...Skippppeeeerrrrr!"
"What is it, Gilligan?" The Skipper looked up just as Gilligan slid off the broken palm frond and came plummeting out of the tree.
"Skippppeeeerrrrr! Help, Skippppeeerrrr!" The First Mate fell with his arms and legs flailing.
"Little Buddy!" the Skipper cried. He threw his huge arms outwards just in time to catch Gilligan a split second before he hit the ground.
"Gee, thanks, Skipper," Gilligan grinned, seemingly none the worse for his ordeal. "Good catch!"
The Skipper, meanwhile, looked like he'd just been hit by a bus. It had taken all of his strength not to be floored by the weight of a full grown man landing squarely in his arms and now his heart was hammering in his chest like a road drill. He stared hard at Gilligan, whose face was just inches from his.
"Gilligan, I told you to be careful up there! Are you all right?"
Gilligan nodded. "I'm fine, Skipper, thanks for saving me. I just..."
Without any warning a loosened coconut followed Gilligan out of the tree and bopped him squarely on the head. Gilligan went cross eyed and started blinking.
"When did it start raining?" he inquired, puzzled.
"Little Buddy!" the Skipper cried. "That wasn't rain, that was a..."
Then another, bigger coconut fell out of the tree and bopped Gilligan on the head, and this time his face slackened into a silly smile and his eyes began rolling around in a circle.
"What's that pretty music?" he slurred, drunkenly. "Are we having a party?"
"No, Gilligan, you just got hit on the head by two coconuts!"
"Oh. Is that all?" Gilligan hiccuped, giggled softly to himself, and went out like a light.
The Skipper hurried back to camp with Gilligan held tightly in his arms. When the other castaways saw him they all came running in excitement to hover over the unconscious First Mate.
"Poor Gilligan!" said Ginger, removing Gilligan's hat and feeling for bumps on his head.
"Has anyone checked the coconuts for damage?" Mr. Howell suggested, before assuring everyone that he was only joking.
The Skipper carried Gilligan into the hut, placed him gently in the top hammock and covered him with a blanket while the Professor went to get a jar of smelling salts from his collection of makeshift medical supplies.
Mary Ann fussed over Gilligan, mopping his brow with a damp cloth. "Gilligan, I'll make you the biggest, sweetest coconut crème pie you've ever tasted if you'll just wake up," she murmured, wiping the cloth gently across his pale forehead and brushing the hair from his eyes.
The Professor returned with the smelling salts, uncorked the jar, and waved it back and forth under Gilligan's nose. The strong chemical aroma had the desired effect, and everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief when Gilligan scrunched up his face, opened his eyes and lay there blinking at the palm frond ceiling.
"Where am I?" he wondered aloud. "Last thing I remember I was sitting in a coconut tree."
"Gilligan, Little Buddy! You're all right!" Relief washed over the Skipper like a tsunami. He clapped Gilligan on the shoulder and broke into a hearty laugh.
"Of course I'm all right, Skipper," Gilligan replied, calmly.
"My Little Buddy knows who I am!" The Skipper's voice was filled with joy. "He hasn't lost his memory!"
All the castaways began laughing with relief, patting Gilligan on the shoulders and rocking the hammock to and fro.
"Why's everyone making such a fuss?" Gilligan asked, gripping the sides of the hammock as it swayed violently.
"Because those coconuts knocked you clean out, that's why!" Skipper grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. "You have two lumps on your head the size of turtle eggs to prove it!"
The Professor folded his arms and approached the hammock with a concerned look. "I want to make sure you haven't suffered any lasting damage, Gilligan. Tell me- do you recognize everyone here?"
Gilligan attempted to sit up in the still swaying hammock. He began looking from castaway to castaway, smiling at everyone. "Sure I do! You're the Professor, he's the Skipper, there's Mr. and Mrs. Howell, and right here is..."
Gilligan's gaze landed on Ginger and lingered there longer than it should. The First Mate looked the movie star slowly up and down without any qualms, devouring her shapely form with his eyes.
"H-hi, Gilligan," Ginger stammered, looking distinctly worried.
"Well, hello there, beautiful," Gilligan replied smoothly.
Ginger blinked in surprise. "Hello there, beautiful?" She stared at the Professor and her mouth fell open.
The Professor exchanged a startled look with the Skipper. The Howells coughed politely and Mrs. Howell put her hand on Mr. Howell's arm.
"Gilligan, are you feeling all right?" asked Mary Ann, stepping forward around Ginger.
Gilligan turned to look at the Kansas farm girl. "Mary Ann," he said, subjecting her to the same lazy scrutiny. "Sweet, wonderful Mary Ann. You're looking as winsome and delightful as ever."
"Winsome?" Mary Ann stammered. "Delightful?"
"Gilligan, are you sure you're feeling all right?" the Professor asked, peering into Gilligan's face.
Gilligan folded his arms neatly behind his head, lay back in the hammock and grinned broadly at the Professor. "Of course I'm feeling all right! I'm shipwrecked on a deserted island with the two most beautiful girls on earth. Why wouldn't I be feeling all right?"
Ginger and Mary Ann looked at each other in wide-eyed amazement.
The Howells shuffled and murmured anxiously to each other.
The Professor stroked his chin, lost in deep thought, and the Skipper buried his face in his hands and shook his big head in despair.
"Oh, boy," he muttered, softly. "Oh, boy!"