I'm still holding my breath,

Waiting for you to see me.

I'll keep waiting 'til my death;

And you still won't be with me.

I'm always alone, never happy,

But you don't care.

I know that this can't be.

Your sympathy is rare.

Please don't touch me.

You have other girls for that.

You are my sweet melody,

But I don't know where I'm at.

-NoV (I had a bad day)

--

"Is that all you remember?" Skipper asked, worriedly.

"No, of course not," Gilligan replied. "Then, we were headed for Korea. Then there was a big storm. And my bunk flooded. And when I went to tell you, you thought that your whole crew was drowned! Well….so did I….then the coastguard rescued us. And we went to Korea. And I tried to buy a big, but you wouldn't let me. So, we took a plane, but we had to stop in Hawaii. We had a few hours before we had to switch flights, so we went to get breakfast….but I think you got dinner. Anyway, then we started arguing, and you know, I don't remember what about either. Then you practically jumped in front of a car, and I had to push you out of the way. Then, I was walking, just minding my own business, and then started swimming—"

"Oh, Gilligan, if I didn't have a busted knee, I'd wale on you!" Skipper threatened. "In fact, I only busted my knee because you pushed me down on the pavement."

Gilligan felt his shoulder again. "Hey, you know what? I only hurt my arm because I ran into your big, broad, fat—" the Skipper glared at him "—muscular side," he added.

"Gilligan, as soon as you're well again, I'm gonna kill you!" Skipper roared.

The nurse chose that moment to enter the room. "Good day, gentlemen," she said professionally. She had a small figure and brown hair. She set her clipboard down on the table next to Gilligan's bed. "How are you feeling, Mr. Gilligan?" she asked, adjusting her stethoscope in her ears, and placing the cold end on Gilligan's chest.

Gilligan blushed. "Fine," he squeaked.

"Breathe in—and out," she instructed. "Once more. In—out." She removed the stethoscope and placed it in her pocket. Wrote down some figures on her clipboard. "Would you like to try walking?"

"Sure!" Gilligan said.

The nurse and the Skipper helped Gilligan to stand up. Without their help, he marched a straight line to the far side of the room, pirouetted, and returned.

"Excellent, Mr. Gilligan!" the nurse said, scribbling down more notes. "I don't see any reason to keep you here any longer. Now, how old are you?"

"Eighteen," he replied, after carefully toying with the sum in his head.

"Then please sign here," she handed him a release form, which he signed, "and you're free to go! I hope we won't have to see you anytime soon, gentlemen." She gracefully left the room.

"Let's go have lunch!" Gilligan exclaimed.

"Let's put your clothes on first," Skipper insisted, pointing at Gilligan's hospital gown.

"Where are they?" Gilligan wondered, looking around.

--

Gilligan, now wearing a blue jump suit he'd borrowed from the hospital staff, and the Skipper headed back into town in search of a restaurant. They had to walk quite slowly, due to the Skipper's pain-stricken knee.

By the time they arrived at the little coconut-themed diner, it was lunchtime.

They were seated by a much kinder waitress than the one they'd gotten the night before. "What can I get for you guys to drink?" the curly dark-haired waitress cheerfully asked.

"I'll take a cup of coffee," Skipper said.

"Soda," Gilligan simply said.

"I'll have it right out for you," she said, bubbly.

Gilligan peeked over his menu at the Skipper.

Skipper felt he was being watched and said, "What is it, Gilligan?"

"So what kind of business are we gonna have?" he asked.

Skipper's eyes got wide. He would remember that! "What are you talking about?" he questioned, trying to pretend that he didn't know.

"You said we could start a business here in Hawaii," Gilligan reminded him.

"When did I say that?" Skipper wondered.

"When I was swimming," Gilligan replied. "It was the clearest voice I heard, and the only one that made any sense."

"It would be," Skipper muttered.

"So what do you want to do? We could sell t-shirts or print books or—"

"Oh, look! The waitress is back!" Skipper said, distractedly.

--

NoV: I tried to make this chapter longer and better to make up for my time off over the weekend. I hope it was good.

Sorry about the last chapter's trick, but I can't resist a good joke!