Chapter 4
Everyone looked exhausted as the last logs were put into place.
Hollywood Help was now in place....... and loaded with fish oil that the Professor had
been using to help ignite their torches at night.
"How long will the oil keep those logs burning Professor?"
"Long enough for the plane to notice them Skipper...... as long as we wait to light them
till we see the plane..... everyone will need a torch to get them going when we hear the
engine."
"So we have to stay here the whole time?" Gilligan asked a little worn.
"Yes Gilligan, if we want to make sure and catch that ride back to civilization," the
Professor put a hand on his tired shoulder.
Gilligan sighed and resumed eating the fish and banana concoction that Mrs. Howell was
dishing up with pride. Everyone tried not to show Mrs. Howell just how bad her first
attempt at cooking without help turned out. Gilligan kept shooing the same fly away
from his fruit.
"Man that fly sure buzzes loud," Gilligan mentioned, still swatting over his food rather
than eating it:"
"That's no fly buzzing little buddy, that's our rescue buzzing!"
"Skipper we can't get off this island using flies."
"No Gilligan," grunted the skipper, whopping Gilligan rather than the fly with his hat
once. "Its the plane......it's coming this way! Get your torches everyone!"
Everyone broke into a run for their torch and headed for their section of the Hoolywood
Help letters. Their fervorous days work was finally coming to a fruition. The letters
began to flare up bit by bit. Gilligan had finished his L of help and was running to light
the P. Was it subconscious? P standing for Pants? Gilligan managed to light his trousers
along with the long line of the P. As he jumped up and down and zig zagged to get the
blaze out...... Gilligan began knocking the unlit portion of the P out of place. Only the
long line was burning, as was Gilligan, who ran into the lagoon's water for relief.
Gilligan stood emitting a sigh of relief as the producer's plane flew over head.
The scout could not help but notice the burning letters before him.
"Hollywood Hell?" he asked his co pilot in disbelief.
"Geez," muttered the co pilot. "Some people just really hate us Hollywood folk."
"Yeah," said the scout shaking his head, "Look at them waving at us to move on. Guess
this location is NOT the one for us. We''ll take it off the list of islands to land in and
check out."
"Good thinking," responded the co pilot, "we dont want the natives to get restless."
The plane continued on to the next island in sight as the cast aways stared in disbelief.
"Why arent they stopping?" Ginger moaned.
Professor turned to look at the logs.
"Looks like we told them where to go alright," The professor concluded with his hands
to his hips.
Everyone turned to see the flaming Hollywood Hell sign.
"Gilligannnnnn!" they all shouted, lunging toward the island bafoon.
The sun set as Gilligan once again ran to keep a distance until tempers' flare was put out.
Everyone looked exhausted as the last logs were put into place.
Hollywood Help was now in place....... and loaded with fish oil that the Professor had
been using to help ignite their torches at night.
"How long will the oil keep those logs burning Professor?"
"Long enough for the plane to notice them Skipper...... as long as we wait to light them
till we see the plane..... everyone will need a torch to get them going when we hear the
engine."
"So we have to stay here the whole time?" Gilligan asked a little worn.
"Yes Gilligan, if we want to make sure and catch that ride back to civilization," the
Professor put a hand on his tired shoulder.
Gilligan sighed and resumed eating the fish and banana concoction that Mrs. Howell was
dishing up with pride. Everyone tried not to show Mrs. Howell just how bad her first
attempt at cooking without help turned out. Gilligan kept shooing the same fly away
from his fruit.
"Man that fly sure buzzes loud," Gilligan mentioned, still swatting over his food rather
than eating it:"
"That's no fly buzzing little buddy, that's our rescue buzzing!"
"Skipper we can't get off this island using flies."
"No Gilligan," grunted the skipper, whopping Gilligan rather than the fly with his hat
once. "Its the plane......it's coming this way! Get your torches everyone!"
Everyone broke into a run for their torch and headed for their section of the Hoolywood
Help letters. Their fervorous days work was finally coming to a fruition. The letters
began to flare up bit by bit. Gilligan had finished his L of help and was running to light
the P. Was it subconscious? P standing for Pants? Gilligan managed to light his trousers
along with the long line of the P. As he jumped up and down and zig zagged to get the
blaze out...... Gilligan began knocking the unlit portion of the P out of place. Only the
long line was burning, as was Gilligan, who ran into the lagoon's water for relief.
Gilligan stood emitting a sigh of relief as the producer's plane flew over head.
The scout could not help but notice the burning letters before him.
"Hollywood Hell?" he asked his co pilot in disbelief.
"Geez," muttered the co pilot. "Some people just really hate us Hollywood folk."
"Yeah," said the scout shaking his head, "Look at them waving at us to move on. Guess
this location is NOT the one for us. We''ll take it off the list of islands to land in and
check out."
"Good thinking," responded the co pilot, "we dont want the natives to get restless."
The plane continued on to the next island in sight as the cast aways stared in disbelief.
"Why arent they stopping?" Ginger moaned.
Professor turned to look at the logs.
"Looks like we told them where to go alright," The professor concluded with his hands
to his hips.
Everyone turned to see the flaming Hollywood Hell sign.
"Gilligannnnnn!" they all shouted, lunging toward the island bafoon.
The sun set as Gilligan once again ran to keep a distance until tempers' flare was put out.
