The Gritty Reboot Of Gilligan’s Island -The Toast

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EXT. NIGHT. The PROFESSOR’S hut. It is raining. GINGER stands outside the entrance, mascara running down her face. She has a machine gun for a leg or something. The PROFESSOR opens the door. 

GINGER: I need another abortion.

THE PROFESSOR: Christ. Christ. Christ motherfucker.

She walks inside. 


FLASHBACK to three years ago. Before the island. Before everything. EXT. DAY. A large, squat building with a sign out front that reads “FUCKED-UP ASYLUM FOR KILLER DOLLS.” Inside we see MARY ANN, wearing gingham Band-aids over her nipples and a bloody loincloth. 

DOCTOR: It’s time for electroshock therapy, because you set your entire family on fire.

MARY ANN: I’m going to have a flashback-within-a-flashback about all the sexual violence I’ve ever experienced or witnessed first.


THE ISLAND. GILLIGAN stands outside of the hut, moaning and waving his bloody arm-stumps. 

GILLIGAN: My hands…my hands…

THE SKIPPER is wearing an eyepatch and a silk dressing-gown. He puts out his cigar in Gilligan’s eye. It is raining. 

THE SKIPPER: I used your hands to strangle your stripper girlfriend. The cops found your hands at the scene.

GINGER: Someone’s been murdering all the stripper girlfriends on the island.

THE PROFESSOR: We’re all going to die in a coconut prison.

MARY ANN struggles up the pathway. All of her limbs have been replaced with machine guns. She is wearing a chain of lizard teeth as a bra. 

THE PROFESSOR: Christ. Christ motherfucker.


EXT. NIGHT. The edge of the tallest cliff on the island. MRS. HOWELL is slowly choking THURSTON HOWELL with a string of her pearls.


INT. NIGHT. The PROFESSOR’S hut. He is showing GINGER a series of inkblots tests.

GINGER: That’s a group of WWI-era German mobster girlfriends using their sexual wiles to defeat a group of misogynist samurai.

GINGER grinds a coconut shell into the PROFESSOR’s face. She slowly rises to her feet and performs a six-minute-long striptease to a Morrissey song as he bleeds out at her feet. 


MARY ANN’s face has been replaced by a machine gun. Her entire body is now six machine guns affixed to a pair of breasts. She is wearing an inkblot. 

THE PROFESSOR [gurgling through his own blood]: Christ motherfucker.

GILLIGAN [with coconut hands now]: This is so much more realistic.

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