GILLIGAN GOES GUNG-HO

Skipper watched in amazement as Gilligan dug. The sand flew everywhere as the first mate couldn't throw it out fast enough. He had gone down about half a foot when Jonas Grumby got bored.

"Good luck, little buddy. It'll take you a week to get out," he said with a chuckle, and walked away. He was gone for a while, as he went to check on everyone else, before he returned to his prisoner. When he came back an hour later, he saw a huge hole in the bottom of the cell. "Gilligan, can you still hear me?" he called out; not worried, but more amused.

"Yeah… I got too tired and now I can't get out of my hole. I think I dug nine feet, Skipper," a voice called out, echoing his words and how tired he was by the pain in his voice.

The Skipper only chuckled. "Well, it serves you right, Gilligan." The First Mate didn't answer. "I'll see you later, little buddy," he said, after a moment.
"Yeah, sure! By then, I'll probably be dead… We skinny guys need food, or we'll shrivel up, Skipper!"

The Skipper rolled his eyes. He was determined not to fall for any guilt trips this time. He walked away so he wouldn't be tempted. "The kid's too smart for his own good," he muttered.

Gilligan managed to get himself to the top of his hole and sighed seeing the Skipper was gone. "He's catching on to me… I gotta think of a new plan" he muttered, determined to appeal to Skipper's soft side. He didn't have to think, though. The sand in the hole shifted, and he fell back into the nine foot pit. Gilligan sat on the bottom and gazed up, as he shook the sand off himself. He turned to the left, and started lightly digging away at the dirt. "Maybe I can still get out of here, myself - I'm healthy - and young! I should be able to tunnel out!" Of course Gilligan was sure of a lot of things - but usually his plans failed, just like the castaways hopes of rescue. He had to try though. That, or sit in his hole till Skipper freed him and knowing him, that could be a day or two, and he was already starving. Gilligan got a tunnel going, but as he moved into it, it collapsed and he was stuck inside. It only fell at the back, end so he still could breathe, but it wasn't much.

Panicking, he wiggled a bit, but sand got heavier. "Oh no!" he muttered. Then he tried to scream, but his new prison was too heavy. If anyone came by all they'd see were two white pant-legs kicking.

Gilligan was stuck for nearly a half-hour and decided to claw the sand in front and go up, hoping to make tiny air holes but had only managed to made a couple...

Meanwhile, the Skipper had gone back to camp and told everyone about Gilligan's hole as they ate lunch. Mary Ann had snuck away after, and went to his prison with food. Skipper had followed her and started to scold her, but she gave him puppy eyes.

"Come on, Skipper! We can still leave him in his hole... I just want to help him keep up his strength," she said.

Skipper nodded, finally and opened the cell. The two walked in and peering down in the hole, saw only Gilligan's legs, moving slightly.

"Gilligan! Little Buddy, are you okay?" the Skipper yelled, as he stepped on Gilligan's air holes. Gilligan poked the shoes with his fingers and the Skipper moved his foot.

"Almost wasn't, Skipper, you were on my air holes… I guess that picture was fake, or something, because my tunnel collapsed on me!"

The Skipper didn't need any more information. Though he was often angry with his First Mate, he never wanted the boy to die. With the same speed Gilligan had used earlier, he dug into Gilligan air hole till Gilligan could gulp in fresher air. He hoisted up the very sandy man, and Gilligan smiled sheepishly. When the Skipper moved them both away from the hole, Mary Ann brushed the sand off Gilligan's face.

"If only you'd just sit still!" she scolded, and he only smiled.

"Where's the fun in that? I thought I could be like in the movies and get myself out," he answered.

Mary Ann shook her head. "You're just lucky the Skipper and I were taking pity on you and bringing you lunch," she said.

The Skipper looked at her, astonished. It was only Mary Ann who had, as usual, taken pity on him.

She shrugged not bothering to clarify her actions. Truthfully, she was just tired of the blame-game and thought Gilligan could use the comfort that the Skipper still loved him.

"Really? Skipper… I thought… I mean… I thought you just finally gave up and decided it was easier just to hate me and lock me away forever," he stuttered.

The Skipper's eyes widened. He looked at Mary Ann quickly, who nodded, and stood up. He gave her a small smile, and saw why she had fibbed.

"Oh, Gilligan, trust me! No matter what you do, we're all still your friends," he told him.

Gilligan smiled - comforted by his friend's words. Out of all six of the castaways, Gilligan knew he could live without everyone, but the Skipper. Not that he'd want to - he just knew he could. If the Skipper ever gave up, totally, he was sure he would die from the rejection, so it felt nice to hear forgiveness yet again.

"Thanks Skipper… So am I done in the cell yet? Or you want me to live in that hole again?" he asked. Gilligan looked at the hole as he spoke. His eyes danced with fear at his second time almost dying.

The Skipper shook his head. "Why? So I can worry about you killing yourself in that sand? Forget it, and that's an order," he said.

Gilligan saluted. "Yes, Sir! Can we also forget me being law man? I don't think I'm cut out for it!"

The Skipper nodded.

Mary Ann watched with a peaceful smile as the two walked past her and out of the cell. She didn't follow - too entranced by the two's strange, but beautiful, friendship.

"Are you coming, Mary Ann? Because, trust me, digging out is harder than it looks!" Gilligan asked, and the brunette nodded, and hurried to catch up to them. She took off Gilligan's hat and tousled his sand-filled hair.

"I'm glad you're not the law any more, because now I can mess with you," she whispered.

Gilligan yelped and took off with her right behind him. "Come back here!" she called, and he shouted "no." The Skipper only chuckled, watching the scene. The island was back to normal again.

Gilligan was tired from all his digging, so he couldn't run as fast as he normally could, so Mary Ann soon jumped on him. She was glad, for once, she was wearing slacks and not a dress, as Gilligan gave her a piggy-back ride back to the huts. Gilligan let her go at his hut and she tousled his hair again and ran off. He shook his head, and went into his hut to find his diary. He went back out and sat at the table.

Dear Diary,

Law and ordur is nut fun on thes ilind. I aristid evry une fer braking ruls. Cuz evry une was braking ruls. the skipper and prafessier blam me caus they culdnt set roks for a signil. Meybe they shulld of obayead laws. They loked me up and I allmust tunealed out. Skipper stupped me tho. I no I wuld of made it.

Gilligan