Mrs. Howell looked at her husband and informed him, "Thurston, we simply must have a cotillion to mark our departure from this island and the Professor's new found wealth."
Mr. Howell replied, "I'll go along with the bon voyage party, but I don't know about the soirée for the Professor."
Mrs. Howell ignored the last barb her husband made and immediately went to find Ginger and Mary Ann to help plan the party.
Mary Ann was all for the idea. "I think a bon voyage party is a great idea," She chirped.
Ginger chimed in, saying, "I think it's also a great idea to make the Professor the guest of honor for his new found success and all he's done to help us."
An experienced society matron, Mrs. Howell took command in a manner that would make the Skipper proud. She ordered, "Very well. Mary Ann, dear, why don't you prepare the lobster the men trapped this morning, along with a salad from the vegetables we grew in the garden. And, of course, what meal would be complete without your famous coconut cream pie. Ginger, you and I will work on invitations, and a citrus punch to drink."
Mary Ann and Ginger just looked at each other and made an unspoken agreement to go along with Mrs. Howell's instructions. It wasn't the first party she had thrown on the island, and pre-shipwreck, you must have been living under a rock if you hadn't heard of Eunice Wentworth Howell's social events. Ginger went off with Mrs. Howell to gather fruit, and Mary Ann put some water on to boil.
Gilligan stopped by to see Mary Ann. Gilligan liked Mary Ann in a schoolboy type way, and Mary Ann thought Gilligan was cute. Mary Ann knew, though, that Gilligan was far from ready for a girlfriend, much less settling down on a farm raising crops, animals, and kids. Mary Ann smiled when she saw Gilligan playing with the Pacific lobster.
"Hi Mary Ann," Gilligan said while watching the blue gray shellfish.
Mary Ann laughed, "I wouldn't get too attached to them Gilligan," she replied, referring to the lobsters doomed for a date with a pot of boiling water.
Gilligan answered, "I know we're going to eat them, but they still deserve a good-bye. After all, they're giving their lives so we can survive."
How sweet, Mary Ann thought, but he would never last on the farm. He would end up turning a stockyard into a petting zoo.
Mary Ann changed the subject, asking, "So how does it feel being an officer?"
Gilligan smiled, "Its different. I never thought I would be an officer, I just wish the chief in charge of my Navy recruit company could see me now. He said I barely made it out of boot camp, and would never make it in the fleet."
"That's terrible, Gilligan," Mary Ann said sincerely, "You can do anything you put your mind to."
"Thanks Mary Ann," Gilligan replied graciously.
While Gilligan and Mary Ann were engaged in small talk, Mrs. Howell and Ginger were hard at work. Mrs. Howell was preparing hand written invitations while Ginger was doing the very unpleasant task of squeezing juice out of pineapples, coconuts, grapefruit, oranges, and berries.
Later in the afternoon, Mr. Howell went over to talk to the "other millionaire." The professor was hard at work distilling fuel for their trip. He had several gallons, but wanted to play it safe.
"I say, professor, this reminds me of my grandfather's basement. The original Thurston Howell was no fan of prohibition," Howell declared.
The Professor lectured, "This stuff is probably a bit more potent than your grandfather's bathtub gin. The rum I'm distilling here is close to pure alcohol, 187 proof to be exact."
Mr. Howell exclaimed, "187 proof, that will take the varnish of your insides!"
The Professor said, "This is not a beverage! Its purpose is to act as a combustible for The Sloop John B's engine."
"Calm down Professor," Mr. Howell soothed, "I was just making conversation. Mrs. Howell sent me over to ask you to be at dinner promptly at sundown, and to dress appropriately."
That earned a smile from the Professor. He said, "Tell Mrs. Howell I will be on time and dressed. She's one person I wouldn't want to cross."
"Tell me about it," Thurston deadpanned.
The Professor laughed. When the Professor wasn't paying attention, Mr. Howell dipped his flask into a barrel marked "fuel."
The Castaways all showed up at dinner promptly at sundown. They dined on lobster and reminisced about the times they had on the island.
Skipper said, "I can't wait to get back to civilization, but I've had more good times on this island than in any tour of duty I had in the Navy."
Mary Ann agreed, "It didn't take long for this place to become home."
Mr. Howell declared, "Lets have a toast… I'll go get the punch and fill up your glasses."
Mrs. Howell was surprised Thurston would do anything so domestic, "Thank you, dear," she said.
Howell filled the glasses, and led the group in a toast, "To the island, our home for the past three years, and to the Professor for his good fortune that also became ours."
"To the island, and to the Professor," Everybody repeated in chorus.
After awhile, the party really got going. The castaways were dancing to music on the radio and laughing wildly.
Mr. Howell took advantage of an opportunity, "Oh Professor," he said.
"Yes Thurston my friend," The Professor said.
"That's right," Mr. Howell agreed, "We're old buddies, how about sharing that RHC1 with me."
"You put some of that rum in the punch didn't you, you old dog," The Professor slurred. Even though the Professor was a bookworm, he had made it to a couple of parties in his eight years as a university student.
Howell laughed, "You caught me. Spiking the punch was practically a tradition at my fraternity."
The Professor laughed, "You are a sly one. OK, I'll sell you RHC1 for $10 million if the John B gets us to civilization."
Howell choked, "10 million? I wouldn't pay more than $2 million!"
The Professor shouted, "Sold!"
Howell "just happened" to have the contract and a pen for the Professor to sign.