The Gilligan Factor - Part One

It is the Bogan Council Chamber and all of the councillors except Mayor Porker are present and sitting at the board table. Most are subdued and even seem a little depressed. Shizeknicker and Fondleschaft are playing cards. Grimy Hobo is picking his nose. Lizzie, Luke, Winnie Quark and Ann Apuladay are drinking coffee and talking quietly. Sean Bean, Axeman and Phil Shidehawk are the only ones who seem remotely cheerful; they are giggling and clearly in the middle of a farting competition. Dicky Mower is surreptitiously cleaning the fluff out of the end of his Glock.

Shizeknicker: Haff you got Miss Bun da baker’s dotter?

Fondleschaft: Nine, I haff’nt. Haff you got…….

Shizeknicker: Chust a minute. I know you haff got Miss Bun da bakers dotter, why are you cheating on me?

Fondleschaft: I vood not cheat on you if you vass on fire.

Shizeknicker: I know you haff got Miss Bun because I haff turned down da corner of dat card.

Fondleschaft: You dumb fuckings, you haff turn down da corners on half da fuckings cards in da pack. Now it ist mine turn. Haff you got Frau Bun da bakers vife?

Shizeknicker: Ah, Shit! Yah, here ist Frau Bun da baker’s vife.

(Shizeknicker slaps the card down and Fondleschaft picks it up. Fondleschaft then lays down the complete Bun family including Miss Bun.)

Shizeknicker: You cuntings! You said you did not haff Miss Buns!

Fondleschaft: I didn’t. Dis one ist her sister.

Shizeknicker: Oh……..sorry.

(Meanwhile, on the other side of the table Lizzie is addressing the coffee group.)

Lizzie: I’m really disappointed. That’s the first time I’ve ever starred in anything and I only had one song before Yuteman stopped it all. I think I did that song pretty good too even if I do say so myself. I was practicing for days and it nearly drove my family crackers but I was determined to make it as nice as what that Julie Andrews done, although the words were a bit yuk of course. I still don’t really know why Ron pulled the plug.

Winnie Quark: To be honest, I’m quite glad it ended. I was supposed to play the part of Nanna von Crap and with a name like that it was bound to have been embarrassing.

Luke: What about me? Doctor de Mize for goodness sake. I suppose I would have been a mass murderer. No, I think Winnie’s right. We are much better off without Ron Yuteman and his weird productions.

Lizzie: Perhaps, but I would have liked to have done a few more songs. Oh God! Who did that? That is so foul. Oh, yuuuuk!

Sean Bean: That was Shidehawk’s feeble effort and I think he’s in serious trouble!

Phil Shidehawk: Oh, dear me. I’m sorry everyone but I will have to dash off for a minute.

(Shidehawk hobbles quickly out of the room.)

Sean Bean: BAAHAHAHAHA! One down, one to go.

(The door opens again and Mayor Porker steps into the room. She is grinning broadly.)

Mayor Porker: Heads up everyone, I’ve got great news! Jesus, did something die in here?

Grimy Hobo: Don’t ask. What’s the great news?

Mayor Porker: I have just been talking to Channel Nine and they want us to take part in a new show on prime time TV. Apparently Ron Yuteman was trying to get them interested in putting on his Comedy of Errors. They thought his show was crap but were very impressed with all of us and so they’ve developed this new show as a vehicle to introduce Bogan Chitty Council to the world. It’s a tremendous boost for Bogan Chitty and it won’t do us any harm either.

Sean Bean: Wow, Porky! This is the big time. I knew you could do it. I must phone my Mum.

Lizzie: When do we start? What is it about? Oh, I’m so excited!

Winnie Quark: I bet I have to do something dreadful in it.

Ann Appuladay: If anyone even mentions “garden gnome” - I walk. My agent has warned me about typecasting and I’m thinking long term now.

Sean Bean: For God’s sake Ann, we don’t know anything yet. You have an agent?

Mayor Porker: Okay, I can give you most of the info but we’ll find out more tomorrow when we get to the island.

Luke: The island? What island?

Mayor Porker: The show is called “The Gilligan Factor” and it involves a bunch of people who are marooned and they have to work together in order to escape from an island. The show will run over several weeks but don’t panic, that’s only for the viewers benefit. In actual fact the whole thing is filmed over one weekend and we fake the days passing. It’s the usual TV con. We start tomorrow and a helicopter will be landing in the Bogan Council Offices car park at 6 AM to take us to the island. Pack for a short weekend camping trip and don’t forget the sun block plus a suitable hat. Any questions? No? Well, don’t be late in the morning or you’re out of the show.

Sean Bean: Yippee! Here we go again! Break a leg, everyone!


THE NEXT DAY – BOGAN COUNCIL CAR PARK, 5-30 AM.

(The main car park is deserted apart from Lizzie and Dicky Mower. Lizzie has a Dora the Explorer backpack and Dicky Mower is carrying a large black holdall. Lizzie is chattering and excited but Mower is pensive. They are standing near a tape barrier that sections off a very large area of the car park. The tape has “KEEP OUT” printed repeatedly all along the tape’s length.)

Lizzie: Oooh, I didn’t think it would be so chilly as this. I don’t usually get up till about 9 and it’s lovely and warm then. Do you think the island will be in the Whitsunday’s? I expect so, don’t you? All that lovely tropical foliage and clean white sand; I can’t wait….. You’re very quiet. What’s up?

Mower: Don’t know. Something is though.

Lizzie: Here come the others.

(By 5-55 AM all of the councillors have arrived except Sean Bean. With 30 seconds to spare he squeals into the car park in his Mazda MX-5, drives straight through the “KEEP OUT” tape and parks in the centre of the sectioned off area. He leaps out of the car, waving, gyrating and generally acting like the obnoxious prat that he is. Sean is dressed in a day-glo orange T-shirt and huge mauve board shorts that almost reach down to his ankles. He flips up his clip-on sunglasses as he greets the others.)

Sean Bean: Hi-De-Hi, shipmates. All ready for Treasure Island are we? Don’t be nervous, just follow my lead. See what it says on my T-shirt? “THE MASTER”. Says it all doesn’t it?

Lizzie: What’s written on the back? BATER?

Mower: Uh….I’d move my car if I were you Sean.

Sean Bean: What the fuck for? There’s plenty of space.

(Mower raises his face as though scenting the air. He is still for a second or two.)

Mower: Gunship. Barrabus A35.

Sean Bean: What?

(From a steady throb to a clattering roar and a howling gale the car park is transformed to a terrifying theatre of noise and brutal power. The Barrabus A35 gunship slowly descends then hesitates above Sean’s car. There seems to be activity and a short discussion inside the gunship and then a figure leans out and fires a squat black weapon. A grapple, trailing a slender cable, pierces the roof of the car and the cable is swiftly locked to an anchor point on the gunship. In a few moments the car is suspended over a nearby area of wasteland and the cable is released. Sean watches with no external sign of emotion as his beautiful Mazda MX-5 drops from 20 metres onto a dump of broken concrete and twisted bits of rusty metal. When the dust clears it is difficult to make out where the dump ends and the Mazda begins. At last Sean finds his voice.)

Sean Bean: What the fuck? I mean – What. The. Fuck. People. Just What the fuck do you think you’re ….just who the fuck do you think you are? What is this fuck? I’m fucked. You are a fucking fuck fuck and Fuck You – you fucks! What the fucking fuck? Oh, Fuck. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

(Sean races to the gunship and begins pounding his fist against the side of it. He screams at the nearest occupant)

Sean Bean: I’ll fuck you up, you fuck. Get fucking out here and fucking get ready for the fucking fuckinest fucking up you have ever fuck fucked – you fuck!

(A massive figure uncoils and manoeuvres its awesome bulk to the outside of the gunship. The face kindles a faint memory and then Sean recalls a photograph he saw of that same face sticking out of the ground on Easter Island. The figure stands over Sean who can’t help noticing the SAS insignia. When this living monument speaks it seems to be in words formed by the rumble of many very large boulders tumbling down a mineshaft.)

SAS: I admire your passion little fella and I confess to a certain thrill of fear when you threatened me. Please tell me what it is you intend to do with me. I must know before I die.

Sean Bean: Uh….um…..well….um…..challenge you to a farting contest?

(SAS shows his teeth and Sean hopes he is smiling.)

SAS: Well, we had better get you all aboard the skylark eh?

(SAS turns and lifts one leg to step back on board. As he does this there is a sound that the main sail of a ship of the line might make when torn asunder by a South Sea typhoon. It is the sort of effort that Sean could only dream of and never hope to equal. SAS looks back at Sean and winks.)

Sean: Heh, heh. I couldn’t win a single-ticket raffle today could I?

(One by one the subdued and now very nervous councillors climb into the gunship. SAS is careful to make sure each passenger is secured and comfortable. He is kindness itself but his eyes have the dead gaze of a shark about them.)

SAS: I hope everyone will be comfortable. It’s not a long flight and there is water and a biscuit or two if you need something to keep your strength up. Oh, hello Mr.Mower, sir. I heard you would be on this trip. Long time no see, sir.

Mower: Hello Garth.

Sean Bean (whispering): You know him?

Mower: No. I’ve never met him in my life and I’ve forgotten him already. So should you if you want to last the day.


30 MINUTES LATER.


(The gunship settles it’s considerable bulk on a sand beach beside a jetty. The passengers clamber out and look around them in obvious confusion. It is an island but it is definitely not a Whitsunday island. The best that can be said about it is that it is quiet. The mainland is a kilometre away as are several other islands.)

Grimy Hobo: What is this place? I know we’re in Morton Bay but other than that I can’t think where we are. Is that Redcliffe over there on the main land?

Mayor Porker: It’s Victoria Point.

Lizzie: Then this must be…..

Mayor Porker: Yes, it is. Look.

(Mayor Porker is kicking at the sand that partly obscures a fallen sign half buried on the beach. The councillors crowd around to look)

Grimy Hobo (reading): Welcome to Coochiemudlo Island. Bloody hell, that takes me back a bit. Used to come here when I was a kid. There were houses then and a shop, what’s happened to the place?

Mayor Porker: It wasn’t very long ago. Somebody digging in their garden found a dump of World War 2 shells. The Army came in and found dumps all over the island. They reckon it will take years to make the place safe. It was evacuated and abandoned. They even bulldozed the homes to keep out squatters. It’s a military area now.

(There is a sudden blare of engines and the gunship lifts off. The councillors are forced to turn away from the blast of sand and debris as the rotors bite. When they are eventually able to look up they can only just make out the grinning face of SAS as the gunship tilts and clatters away toward the mainland.)

Sean Bean: They’ve run out on us. The bastards! I told you, Porky, I warned you this was a mistake. This has got Yuteman written all over it. That arsehole is up to his tricks again.

Mayor Porker: No, Sean. Even Ron Yuteman doesn’t control the SAS. This is Federal and my guess is it has something to do with the shells dumped here. If you need someone to blame I reckon Bart Rugarse is the likely candidate.

Mower: I think you’re both wrong.

Sean Bean: Ah, Mr.ASIO, do tell. Who do you think needs the rough end of the tomato?

Mower: Don’t be a prick, Sean. This is serious. For a start, it wasn’t a few shells that were found. The Americans used this whole island during WW2 as a major ammunition store. The back of Coochiemudlo, the side away from the mainland, is a hollowed out shell and, as near as can be figured, there’s about 2000 tonnes of WW2 ammo buried here which is now at a critical stage of deterioration. God knows how, but this was all forgotten in the joy of giving the japs a good thumping. It was simply overlooked.

Mayor Porker: So why are we involved and who’s calling the shots?

Mower: Not sure, Porky. But it’s not the Federal Government. Without months of discussion Kevin Rudd doesn’t have the authority to call out a band of girl guides let alone a crack SAS unit with Garth Cutler in command. And that gunship! Kidnapping local government officials! It all adds up. I smell CIA.


TO BE CONTINUED.