Thanks to a review from Teobi, I've been hit by a blast of inspiration. I've changed the plot of the story some. ^.^ Here's a virtual cookie for you my friend.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter.
Enjoy!
19th Century: The Wild West
Callahan sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. He glanced up at the sky, seeing the sun was finally starting its daily decent into the horizon. Dusty was still missing, which worried the wagon master considerably. It wasn't like Dusty to just up and leave, especially without his horse. The nagging feeling that something terrible had happened to the young scout kept nipping at the back of Callahan's mind. Sitting down to rest, he frowned as he scanned the area for any sign of Dusty. Not seeing anything, he decided to head back to camp. There was no way he'd be able to find Dusty in the dark, though there was always a chance the scout had returned to camp on his own. Thinking that, Callahan smiled to himself. Dusty's probably already back at camp. He's probably getting onto Freckles about not waiting up or something. Feeling a little more at ease with those thoughts, Callahan stretched his tired muscles before standing and resuming his trek, this time heading back the way he had come.
20th Century: On a small uncharted desert island somewhere in the pacific...
A gentle breeze blew through the trees as the sun shone down on the jungle. Birds and monkeys called out to one another as they went about their business as usual. Wandering through the dense vegetation that was the jungle, Dusty knew he was in trouble. Not only had he lost Freckles, he had no idea where he was or where camp was. On the bright side, his head no longer hurt, though he did still have a bump on the back of his head. Looking around, he trembled a little with fear. Not really paying attention to where he was going, he ended up walking right into a banana tree, which was full of low hanging yellow bananas. Stumbling back, Dusty looked at the bananas and blinked. "Bananas? Lots of bananas...and their upside down." Leaning forward, Dusty attempted to twist his body so he could look at the bananas upside down. In the process, he lost his balance and fell face first into a thick patch of green grass with a loud oof!
Sitting up, Dusty spat out a mouthful of grass before getting to his feet and brushing himself off. Gilligan! Hearing the sound of someone shouting, Dusty immediately looked around. Not having a clue what a gilligan was, Dusty started off in the direction the shout had come from."Where there's a shout like that, there's definitely people. Maybe they can help me find the others."
Gilligan! Where are you!
Noticing the voice was louder, Dusty picked up his pace. A short time later, he burst out of the jungle and into a clearing. The first thing he noticed were the three bamboo huts sitting around the edge of the clearing. The next thing he noticed was a beat up looking table sitting in the middle of the clearing and next to it, a fire pit. The third thing he noticed was a fat man wearing a blue shirt with white pants and blue sneakers with a captain's hat on his head. Realizing he must have been the one yelling, Dusty hurried over to him. As he neared the man in blue, Dusty's left foot caught up under his right foot as he ran, effectively tripping himself. Stumbling full speed ahead while attempting to keep his balance, Dusty ended up plowing headfirst into the middle of the man's back. Together the two of them fell to the ground in a heap. Sitting up quickly and scooting back, Dusty fixed his hat on his head again and looked at the stranger as he turned around and sat up.
"Gilligan! Watch where your going!" The man scolded as he grabbed his hat and whacked Dusty over the head. Startled, Dusty let out a small yelp and jumped to his feet. Frowning, the man looked him over before getting to his feet. "What are you doing? I told you to go collect coconuts and bananas, not play around with those costumes you caught yesterday."
"Erm...what?" Dusty asked, more confused now than he normally was.
"Don't play dumb, Gilligan. Now go get those coconuts and bananas like I told you. The girls can't finish supper until you get them."
"Why do you keep calling me Gilligan? I'm Dusty. I don't even know what a gilligan is."
"Very funny, Gilligan. Now go before I keelhaul ya! And take off that ridiculous costume too!" The man snapped, stabbing a thick finger towards the jungle as he spoke. Gulping rather loudly, Dusty turned tail and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, tripping over himself and the ground in his haste. Shaking his head, the man sighed and headed for one of the huts.
Walking out of the jungle a few minutes later, hauling a duffel bag filled with coconuts and a bamboo pole covered in freshly picked bananas, a young man wearing a red rugby shirt with a white collar, light blue bell bottoms and white sneakers with a white sailors cap on his head, trudged towards the table where he immediately dropped the bag of coconuts and sat the bananas on the table. Exhausted, he plopped down on one of the seven stools that sat around the table. Breathing a sigh of relief at getting rid of his heavy load, the young sailor looked around.
"Wonder where everyone is." He said to himself. Standing up, he looked around again before calling out, "Skipper! Professor! Mary Ann! Ginger! Mr. and Mrs. Howell!"
Coming out of the hut, Jonas Grumby gave the young man a strange look before walking over. "Gilligan, why can't you collect food this fast all the time?"
The young man named Gilligan looked at the Skipper, confused. "But Skipper, I was gone over an hour."
"Gilligan, I know you've been gone for over an hour. But you were slacking off most of that time." Skipper replied, slightly annoyed.
"No I wasn't. I was getting the coconuts and the bananas like you said. See?" The first mate said, pointing at the duffel bag and pole.
"I can see that, Gilligan. Now go find the girls and let them know you're back. They went down to the lagoon to get some oysters." The Skipper ordered.
"Yes sir." Gilligan mumbled, sulking as he trudged off towards the lagoon. The last thing Gilligan wanted to was wander down to the lagoon. He was still worn out from collecting and hauling the fruit back to camp and at the moment, all he wanted to do was sit down and relax. Getting an idea, he grinned to himself. "Skipper never said I had to come back after I get the girls. Maybe I can sneak off and take a nice long nap before dinner." Rubbing his hands together with a sneaky grin, the bumbling first mate hurried off to the lagoon, anxious to take a nap and relax.
Back at camp, Roy Hinkley, a.k.a. the Professor, walked into camp, carrying a notebook, several thick text books, and some instruments he had crafted out of materials he found on the island. The instruments were crude and nowhere near as good as they'd be if they'd been made professionally, but given the circumstances the instruments were accurate enough to let the Professor continue his studies even during their island exile.
Seeing his friend sitting at the table in his usual place, the Professor walked over and sat his stuff on the weathered table.
"Hello Skipper." The book smart man greeted, sitting in his own usual place at the table.
"Oh hello Professor." Skipper greeted in turn, the irritation he was feeling clear in his tone.
"Is something wrong?" Roy Hinkley asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Other than Gilligan irritating me again, everything is just fine."
"I see. Perhaps you need to take a respite from him."
"I think everyone could use a break from Gilligan. I know he means well, but sometimes I just want to break every bone in his body so he has to stay put and out of trouble." Skipper replied, holding his hands up and pretending the air in his hands was his young first mate as he made a squeezing motion. The Professor chuckled softly and picked at a spot on the table.
"Yes, Gilligan would have to stay in one place for awhile. Though, knowing Gilligan, he would still plague us all with his constant babbling."
"I suppose your right. Maybe we could use some of that glue you made and glue him to a chair and glue his mouth shut. That would do us all a favor." Skipper grinned. The Professor just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Good luck, Skipper," Roy Hinkley smiled, standing up. "I'm going to put my books away. I have found the most fascinating fauna and flora in the caves I've been studying. I must check over my notes."
"Alright Professor. I'm going to find some firewood before the others get back." Skipper said, getting to his feet. Without another word between them, the two men went their separate ways, the Professor going to his hut and the Skipper heading into the jungle to collect some firewood.
On the other side of the island at that same time...
Thurston Howell III walked along, his arm hooked with his wife's arm as the rich woman held a sky blue parasol over her head to protect her skin from the sun's rays. Lovey Howell smiled in delight as she walked with her husband.
"Today is such a lovely day for a stroll." Lovey said happily. In the years since becoming castaways, the Howells had learned to tolerate doing things for themselves, though they still got a kick out of making one of the others, most often than not Gilligan was their target, play the servant. While the first mate disliked being a servant, he never complained about being unknowingly volunteered. But when two of your closest friends were very well known millionaires, who would complain? It's not everyday one got a chance to befriend millionaires and earn a chance to make quite a bit of money.
"Yes my dear, it is a lovely day for a stroll. Of course, any day is lovely with you around, Lovey." Thurston said, smiling lovingly at his wife. If there was one thing Thurston Howell III loved as much as money, it was his wife. And his teddy bear, Teddy.
"Oh Thurston, you flatterer." Lovey smiled, looking away bashfully as she playfully swatted the air.
Being caught up in their conversation, neither of the Howells heard the rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs getting steadily louder and closer until it was too late. Barreling out of the vegetation at full speed, Dusty plowed into them. With a cry, two Howells and a Dusty fell to the ground in a heap and tangle of arms, legs and a parasol. With more startled cries and angry shouts, the trio finally got themselves freed and were soon back on their feet. Mr. Howell glared angrily at Dusty as he held onto his wife's arm with one hand and her should with his other hand. "I say! What is the meaning of this! Knocking a Howell to the ground and causing them to get filthy!"
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." Dusty replied nervously. After his run-in with the Skipper, Dusty was still on edge and still very confused.
"Didn't see us? Ha! I should report you to the captain, young man." Thurston frowned.
"Thurston, darling, let it go. The boy didn't mean any harm. I'm sure he had a very good reason to be running." Lovey said, lightly tapping her irate husband on the arm.
"And what reason would that be, Lovey dearest?"
"Simple. He's exercising."
"Exercising? Whatever for?"
"I'm not really sure, but we should let him finish," Lovey replied, looking Dusty up and down. "But Gilligan, dear boy, you're not wearing the proper outfit for running. You really must change clothes."
"I'm not Gilligan," Dusty started, concluding 'Gilligan' was the name of someone the strange people must know. But why they kept calling him that, he had no idea. "I'm Dusty and I'm lost."
"Oh my. The poor boy must have hit his head. He doesn't know who he is again." Lovey said, putting a hand to her mouth. "You really should see the professor about that."
"But I know who I am. I'm Dusty. Not Gilligan. And who's the 'Professor'? What's a professor? And who are you? You're not Mr. and Mrs. Brookhaven. But you sure act and talk like them. And you're sure dressed fancy like them too. And that fat guy isn't Mr. Callahan, but he sure acts like him."
"Lovey, the poor lad's lost his mind! Not that he ever had a mind to loose. We must take him to see the Professor." Thurston frowned, going over to the young scout. Dusty backed away, beginning to think all of the people here, wherever here was, were crazy. Before he got more than two steps back, Mr. Howell grabbed Dusty's arm and started to lead him back to camp, Lovey following close behind. Dusty let out a small whimper as he was dragged along, silently wondering what he had gotten himself into this time.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter ^.^ Thanks to anyone reading this and a big thanks, and free cookies, to those who reviewed the last chapter. Since this is my first time doing a crossover, GI fic, and DT fic, I may not get the characters right. If there's something you find that is off by a lot, (a little OOCness isn't too bad x3 ) please let me know. Or if you find any mistakes and whatnot, please let me know =)
I know I said I'd update when I got 5 reviews, but I talked to Kiwi and he agreed to update the first chance I get. But he'll still find you and steal all your food in the middle of the night if you don't review ;)