The Pitch: Gilligan’s Island (Season 5, Episode 5)

Geoff Harris

We open on Gil, former pirate and now stranded castaway, standing close to the edge of a cliff. With one hand he’s looking through a spyglass into the horizon. In his other arm is nestled a sleeping baby. The as yet unnamed woman he once saved walks up behind him quietly. She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and looks out in the same direction hoping to gain some insight as to what has Gil’s interest. He smiles and lowers the spyglass. He hands it to her and attends to the infant. She raises the telescope and looks out towards where it was pointed before. After some adjustment she sees a craft sailing along the flat plane of the ocean. It is unlike any she has seen before. No sails. Instead it is made of metal with a long pipe sticking out of one side of the main deck that bellows black smoke like a chimney from some infernal design.

“She’s a strange one, eh?” Gil asks quixotically while staring at the child.

The woman responds with a question of her own. “How do you know it’s a ‘she’?” She smiled knowing his answer would be quick.

And it was. “All ships are female. Damned though if I could tell you why.”

They both laugh.

Gil continues. “Unless they change course soon we may well have visitors soon.” His tone is grim. The baby stirs.

“Don’t take this wrong, my dear heart,” She says solemnly, “But we could use some fresh blood around here. It’s been so long since the last washed up on your shore.”

He hands her the baby and takes back the spyglass. He looks one last time and then compacts it for travel. “Our shore, my sweet. Let us go and prepare for their arrival.”

Thunder roars off in the distance as the clouds overhead begin to darken and the wind picks up speed.


We see The Professor setting up a table and arranging some equipment. This is a repeat of the events from episode one but the view is further out as if seen through the spyglass. Camera swings around to reveal Jan, wearing the tattered remains of a dress she is wearing when we first meet her earlier in the show.  She sweeps the spyglass over and the camera swings again to focus on Gilligan as he approaches the table. Gilligan crashes into the table. The Skipper assaults him. Mary Ann rescues Gilligan. They leave the area quickly.

She collapses the telescope and heads off.

Much later, Jan watches, closer this time, as the redhead, Ginger, argues with the man from the plane. The argument is heated but both keep their volume as low as they can to avoid drawing attention.

Taylor rips into Ginger with a series of verbal daggers. “All you had to do was fucking WAIT. How fucking difficult was that? Oh, I’m sorry. Obviously, very.”

Tearful she responds, “It wasn’t my fault…there was this guy…he kept following me. I got scared. You try standing around with a department store’s worth of carry-on!”

He is stymied by that. “Yeah, what’s with all the baggage? I said a couple of bags. Two!” He makes a symbol with his index and middle fingers. “Fucking plane can’t carry more than a coupe hundred extra pounds without dumping fuel. And unless you wanted to swim the rest of the way…Jesus, Ginger, we talked about this.”

“No. We didn’t. You told me to pack as much as I could, remember? You said your ‘contact’ was going to load us up. Never mind that! What in God’s name was my fucking daughter doing on that goddamned plane!?!?”

He recoils from the attack. His shoulders sag. “He caught me at the airfield. Shows up with some kid. Says he’s got enough dirt to bury both of us unless I take him with me. I was coming down off some Silver so I was out of it. I had no choice. He showed me pictures. And the printouts from some bank or some shit. Payments Howell was making. I’m so sorry. Oh God, I didn’t know!”

Ginger listens and then wipes her eyes. “Well, isn’t that a fist in the ass? And I should know!” Her laugh is hollow and bitter. “My kid’s dead. And I’m stuck on some God forsaken island with the man who killed her and the man who could have killed us both with a phone call. Shit. He probably arranged this whole shit-show as some kind of revenge scheme.” She began to shake and mutter incoherent gibberish. “It’s all my fault. I did this. I killed my daddy and my little girl. I’m poison. I deserve to be here. This is Hell.”

Taylor stares at her silently then offers a hug. She refuses. “Baby, you’re just strung out. You’ve been gone for, shit, I don’t know. Look, I have some stuff back on the plane. I’ll go get it and fix you up. Okay?”

“Too late….it’s too late…” She mumbles.

“Stay right here. I’ll be right back. Oh baby, it’s tearing me apart seeing you like this…” He heads off. Jan follows quietly behind. The man from the plane never gets to his destination. Jan’s blade is quick and slices into his spine effortlessly. He gurgles blood as the pair slide to the ground. She smiles and begins to undress her quarry. Not the first kill she’s field-dressed. This one will be a gift to the redhead. Maybe they will be friends after this? Jan gets to work optimistic they will be.


The walk from the Professor’s cave is quiet until Gilligan speaks up softly. “You’ll be happy to hear most of the crew of the freighter survived.”

Lovey takes a half-step but corrects herself. “Beg pardon?” She asks in response.

“The ship you contacted. The majority of the crew survived.” His tone is flat and direct.

Lovey looks flustered. “What? I don’t understand. What ship?”

Gilligan stops walking. The other three do as well. He turns to face Lovey and smiles a broad almost reptilian grin. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure which of you did it…but again, thank you. Usually the children and I have time to prepare for visitors. He swipes a hand at Ginger and The Professor. “These two are lost to us. They will be dealt with soon enough. You and Mary Ann, however, will be quite welcome.”

The Professor seems to come out of whatever fog he was in and he snaps back at Gilligan sharply. “What do you mean ‘lost’? What is going on? You disappear for days and now here you are talking like some demented tour guide! Where’s Mary Ann? And The Skipper? What have you done with them?!?!”

Gilligan’s grin falls into a thin line. “She is safe. You killed The Skipper. Don’t you remember?”

The Professor shakes his head trying to clear it. “Yes…his body…what have you done with his body?” It is as if his brain was rebooting. He rubs his temple and tries to find some point of order in the chaos of his thoughts. Memories tumble around in random order. His heart raced and sweat began to bead along his eyes. “What did you do to me?” His words are half-question and half-accusation.

Gilligan turns to look at Ginger. She is also beginning to sway and sweat. Lovey stares intently at the scene before her. Ginger and The Professor start to shake. A slow shimmy which rapidly becomes a full convulsion. The pair fall on the ground and writhe violently.

“Stop it!” Lovey screams and slaps Gilligan across the face. The two on the ground stop shaking. Tenderly the young man rubs his now sore cheek. He smiles again. “You’re going to do quite well here. You still haven’t met the others but they’ve had more time to adjust.” He starts to walk off. “Don’t forget your baggage, Mrs. Howell. It’s not much farther.”

Lovey helps Ginger and Roy to their feet. Both are pale and weak.

“We best hurry, dearies.” Lovey commands in a syrupy sweet tone. “Don’t want to get left behind, now do we?”

The quartet make their way to the abandoned village where the hatch was hidden. The Professor tries to get answers out of Gilligan several times but is eventually silenced by Lovey, who pulls him aside and kisses him deeply. “Patience. Play along and we’ll sort all this out.” She whispered in his ear. Flustered, he complies and continues to follow. The complex twists and turns until they reach a set of double doors. Two young boys, maybe ten or so years old, sit in front of the doors with their hands under their chins in a position of frustration and abandonment.

The dark haired boy perks up when he sees Gilligan. His fair-haired companion follows suit almost as quickly. Lovey and Ginger both gasp in horror at the boy’s cruel visage. Half of his face is gone. Exposed muscle, long dried and cracked, leers like a ghoulish half-mask. He wears a pair of round spectacles. The lens of his disfigured side was cracked in a spider web pattern. There was no eye to correct, only a dry hollow socket.

“What’s this?” Gilligan asks with a smile.

The dark haired boy, oddly dressed as an American Indian, responds in a shrill voice. “Jan’s being a royal cunt again!”

Gilligan is taken aback. “Bobby! Language!”

“Sorry, sir. She won’t let us in. Wants to keep all the goodies for her fat self!”

The other boy pipes up with a muffled, “Fat Elf!”

Gilligan gestures the boys to their feet. They stand and brush the dirt from the floor off with their hands. Bobby continues.

“Ever since the new twat showed up Jan’s been on a constant rag.”

Like a striking cobra Gilligan lashes out and grabs the boy’s throat. His eyes burn with anger. He pulls the boy in close and bends to whisper in an ear. “We have company. Hold your tongue.” He releases the boy and steps back half a step. Booby reaches inside his own mouth, grabs around clumsily, and ultimately takes a firm grip on his own tongue. His fingers dig into the soft flesh until blood begins to pool and run out the sides of his mouth. The other boy tries to follow his friends actions but can’t quite get his fingers inside far enough. After a few seconds of watching this clumsy oral ballet, Gilligan speaks up.

“It’s alright, Oliver. You are a good boy. Go get the others ready for tonight.” He pats the boy on his head and watches as the youngster skips off joyfully still trying to capture what was left of his tongue. Gilligan straightens and knocks politely on the door before him. It creaks open and Jan, seeing the group, lets loose a scream of ear-piercing intensity.

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