Summary: Gilligan finds a magic bottle with a genie inside. Skipper and Gilligan are in an abusive relationship. Ginger is a prostitute. The reclusive Professor produces and traffics drugs throughout the island. Mr. and Mrs. Howell think their Monopoly game money is real. And Mary Ann is just Mary Ann.

Author's Notes: It's 2:30 in the morning. This is probably going to be the worst story ever. But please, continue reading... Maybe you'll like it. Don't people say that it is late at night when one is most creative or something? We'll see...

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Gilligan traipsed through the jungle of the island he had been sharing with his "friends" for what seemed like forever. Despite the fact that the seven of them lived in four small huts in a relatively small clearing on the island, Gilligan often found large chunks of time during which he could be by himself. Oftentimes, he rather preferred to be alone.

The others were simply awful to be around most of the time. They blamed him for everything. Sure, he messed up a lot, but then, they should know better than to keep getting him involved in all of their so called "important" rescue plots. As if any of them wanted to be rescued anyway...

The minute they were rescued, Gilligan and Skipper would be out of jobs. Skipper would blame it on Gilligan and probably clock him upside the head for it. The Professor would probably be arrested when their rescuers discovered all of the drugs he had made out of resources on the island. The Howells would go back to the trailer park; those on the island liked to pretend that the crazy old bats had some sort of privileged authority, but their monopoly game money would be no good in the real world. Mary Ann, of course... all she did in Kansas was farm... That was basically the same thing that she did on the island. She probably couldn't care one way or the other. Ginger was probably the only one who really wanted off the island. She pursued the same profession here as there, but didn't get any customers, and wouldn't have been paid anyway, except in pink, blue, green, white, and golden monopoly bills...

Gilligan skipped merrily along. He was happy on the island. Even though Skipper didn't appreciate him and blamed him for every misfortune, even ones that were clearly not his fault. Gilligan was blamed for the weather being unfavorable, for a spider getting into The Skipper's hammock, and for Skipper running into things when Gilligan failed to warn him that he was about to walk into something due to his own carelessness.

Usually Gilligan would just cover his face and hope for the best. Sometimes he'd run off before Skipper got the chance to smack him with his hat. Even though it was just a little hat, it still hurt to be hit with it...

Gilligan whistled as he explored the island. He knew the island better than anyone else. They were always occupied with other meaningless things, while Gilligan got to know his new home. He knew where there were caves, where there were beautiful waterfalls, and were he could find the most delicious pineapples on the island. He knew where there was gold (but didn't tell the others, because he knew they would all fight over it, even though it was worthless here.) He even knew where there was a beautiful glass bottle, that seemed to sparkle even when there was no light shining on it.

That's where he was going now, to see the beautiful bottle. He had to keep it in the back of a cave, because he knew the others would steal it if he brought it back to camp. The Professor would want to know what was in it so he could use it to make drugs. Skipper, Ginger, and the Howells would want it because it might be worth money. Mary Ann would probably be curious... of course Gilligan didn't think she'd actually steal it...

He wriggled his way through the tunnels of the cave until he reached a small chamber, illuminated by the wondrous bottle. He smiled and reached out for it, plucking it up and gazing at it. It was so pretty, and it was all his.

He had found it a while ago, but had never actually opened it. It was sealed with a cork, and didn't seem to have anything it it... but maybe he was mistaken. He decided to open it up, here, alone in the small chamber of the cave. If there was something neat-o inside, he didn't want anyone immediately stealing it away from him.

So he popped the cork and prepared to peer inside. But just as he was leaning over to look inside, something came rushing out, hitting him in the eye and knocking him backwards.

Gilligan yelped and put his hand over his eye. He could already feel a bruise coming on. While he worried himself over his newly bruised eye, something magical was happening within the cave. Sparkles and lights flew everywhere, while Gilligan barely noticed. But he did notice a little. His attention was quickly turned away from his eye and toward the wonderful magic that was happening before him.

Lights shone, sparkles flew, air flowed, everything felt perfect (except for Gilligan's eye, of course.) He looked in amazement as all the sparkles and mist settled to reveal a giant looking man squeezed into the small chamber of the cave. He looked like any ordinary man, but was a bit taller than most ordinary men.

"Oh boy!" Gilligan exclaimed, "that was real neat. How'd you do that?"

The man looked down at him, "did my cork damage your eye?" he asked, "I apologize."

Gilligan had forgotten about that, "It's okay. I'm the one who opened it too fast. Wait... your cork? I'm the one who found this bottle. It's mine, fair and square... um... unless you're a headhunter... then you can have it," he shuddered and pushed the bottle toward the giant man, giving it up so that hopefully the giant would take the bottle instead of his head. It was a great bottle, but it would be worthless to a headless dead man.

"Headhunter?" the tall man laughed, "not at all. The bottle is yours, fair and square, as you say. But it's also mine, in regard to the fact that it contains me while I'm dormant."

Gilligan shook his head and shrugged, indicating that he hadn't understood most of what the man had just said, "So... Whatcha doing in here?" he asked, "you know, this cave is the littlest one on the island. I can barely even squeeze in here. I picked it because I knew no one else could get in. So... you're kinda giant. How you gonna get out? And how did you get in here?" Gilligan tilted his head in confusion. He looked at the tall man, to the small tunnel he had used to get into the cave, and then back at the man again, "all the butter in the world isn't going help squeeze you outta here."

"You've just released me, young lad," the man explained, "From the bottle. Surely you guess what's going on here..." Gilligan looked unsure, so the large man continued, "You've got three wishes... I'm sure you've heard of genies before."

"Genies? Really! You're a genie?" Gilligan couldn't contain his excitement, "Oh boy! Wait till I tell the others! Hmmm... or maybe I shouldn't... Say, would you be insulted if I make my wishes here, and don't bring you back to camp with me? I mean, it's a pretty little space here in the cave, but since you've been living in a bottle, I suppose you're used to it," Gilligan chuckled. He loved making slightly witty remarks. No one else laughed at his jokes, so he often just laughed at them himself.

"Not at all," the genie replied, "you may go about your wishes however you see fit. The small space doesn't bother me a bit. Like you say, I've been in a bottle all this time, and will be retreating back into it whenever I'm not useful. Whenever you need me, simply open the bottle back up, and there I'll be. But, I'll tell you, even if you share with your friends that you've found me, the wishes are all still yours."

"Yeah... but they'll bully me into wishing for what they want. And they don't even know what they want," Gilligan explained.

"Do you know what you want?" the genie asked, "Of course, I mean not to rush you. You've got all the time in the world."

"I'm gonna have to think about it," Gilligan said, "can I come back tomorrow? Will you still be here?"

The genie nodded, "I will be wherever you leave me, always, until you've made your three wishes. Pop the cork, but carefully next time. I feel awful about hurting your eye, but I cannot mend it unless it is one of your wishes, so another apology will have to do."

"I told you, it was my fault," Gilligan repeated, "You don't have to apologize for it. I'm always goofing up, hurting myself and breaking things. I'm used to it."

"Still, do be careful in opening the bottle next time," the genie said again.

Gilligan threw his arms out and embraced his new genie-friend, "I better be getting back before they start worrying and start looking for me. Thank you for giving me three wishes, Genie. Boy-o-boy. Three wishes..."

The genie nodded, "Until next we meet," he smiled and shrunk back into the bottle.

Gilligan carefully lifted the bottle off the ground and placed it gently in the corner of the cave. "Good night, Genie," he said, and crawled back out of the cave. He began his trek back to camp, hoping that when he got back, no one would blame him for anything he didn't do.

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Review. I'll write more when insomnia strikes again...