Skipper Jonas Grumby sat next to Professor Roy Hinkley at the communal table trying to repair the transmitter from their store box of electronic pieces; circuits from an old Mars probe, ingredients left behind from an exploded space capsule as well as Balingkoff's mind control device among other pieces of technology from over the years filled the makeshift wood crate. They had lived for five years already on the island with civilization far removed from them still believing they were lost at the bottom of the ocean. Grumby continued tinkering and imagining the day that civilization watched them come back from the dead after being rescued. His other thoughts turned to whether the Professor would still find his small ivy league campus home still waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, Skipper." The Professor sighed tiredly, his fingers bracing the bridge between his eyes, and sat back in the chair. "But there is simply no way to get these parts from the satellite compatible with the transmitter. It's like trying to get a computer to talk to a toaster. Maybe I can rig something just using the satellite parts, but the batteries from the radio just don't have the juice we need for the satellite parts."

"What a shame..." The Skipper pushed his cap back and scratched his head. "Well, we tried..." They looked up as they noticed Ginger crossing in front of them in her shapely silver lamiae dress. They didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to be rescued as they mentally undressed her curves. She grinned back to their smiles.

"Any luck?" She looked at the tools out.

"What?" The Skipper shrugged off his fantasies. "Well, yeah. All bad." He groaned a bit as the bushes and leaves in the path were disturbed a few feet away by something charging into camp. Something was coming fast at them with the tip of Gilligan's cap appeared over the tops of the dry tropical brush and then the rest of him bursting upon the scene.

"Skipper, skipper!!!"

"What is it, Gilligan?" The Skipper postured frustratingly at his antics.

"Ginger's back!!" Gilligan riddled before them.

"I didn't go anywhere." Ginger answered with the Professor watching confusingly.

"No, not you, Ginger," Gilligan rattled on to the Skipper and Professor trying to understand him. "Not that Ginger, the other Ginger, Mary Ann thinks she's Ginger again."

"What!!" The Skipper and Professor stood up together in alarmed unison.

"Oh no!!!" Upset and annoyed, Ginger shook her head and folded her arms. "Not again!! It took me forever to get my wardrobe back together after that little seamstress cut them up!!!"

"How'd it happen, Gilligan?" The Professor asked.

"What?" Gilligan gasped and calmed a bit. "I was collecting coconuts and she passed out, but when I picked her up, she was Ginger again." He smirked a bit guilty.

"I am not being Mary Anne again!!" Ginger stamped her foot into the sand.

"Gilligan, did you..." The Skipper pointed his finger at his little buddy realizing how Gilligan was always dropping coconuts. "Did you knock poor Mary Anne with a coconut?"

"With a coconut?" Gilligan tried thinking of a lie, but he couldn't do it. "A coconut, you say? Could it have been a coconut? I don't… it could have been."

"Gilligan… of all the most irresponsible…."

"Never mind that." The Professor turned and saw Mary Anne approaching camp. Her hair was out of its pigtails and she was carrying one of Ginger's dresses. "Gilligan, get Ginger out of here. I've got an idea."

"Right, Professor." Gilligan and Ginger looked back and headed down the other path to the lagoon and their earlier campsite. The Skipper braced himself as the Ginger-obsessed farm girl from Kansas strided into camp acting as her other personality again. Somewhere in that wonderful mind of recipes and farming was the soul of a little girl who wanted to be an actress, and Ginger Grant was the first actress that she had ever met in person away from Winfield, Kansas.

"Professor," Her voice sounded like sophisticated and sultry Ginger again rather than her own sweet and homespun self. "You are just going to have to do something. This island atmosphere just keeps enlarging my dresses."

"Right, Ginger." The Professor had a wry grin as the Skipper suppressed a laugh. "Uh, we seem to have a problem. You see, Mary Ann thinks she's you again, and we want you to pretend to be Mary Ann until we can help her."

"That's brilliant, Professor!!!" The Skipper applauded his scheme, but the scholar shooed him to keep from exposing it.

"What again?" Mary Ann seemed unaffected by the revelation. "Oh the poor dear… How long will I have to do this little charade this time?"

"Only for a little while," The Skipper continued with the idea. "We'll tell you when to stop."

"But will Mary Ann's clothes fit me?" The New Ginger asked.

"Oh, I think they will." The Professor kept a straight face. "You run along now, and remember, try to be Mary Ann."

"Should be easy," The New Ginger responded. "After all, I am an actress." She turned and glided with an air if an actress toward the girl's hut. In that pretty head, Marilyn Monroe-like music floated through the musical score of her mind. As Ginger, she was no longer a tomboy and she glided with a sexual presence and godly air as if she were floating above the ground. The Skipper and Professor exchanged looks of amusement.

"Have her do another show?" The Skipper asked.

"Another show." The Professor continued. "Too bad that last storm wrecked our stage. I'll help you and Gilligan rebuild it in the morning."

"Good." The Skipper began looking for Gilligan to help gather what they needed. "With Gilligan on the island, we don't need two loose nuts."