PREVIOUSLY, ON LOST:
In a desperate attempt to save the island, Ben has descended into an icy pit to turn a frozen turnstile.
Once properly rotated, the turnstile causes the island to disappear.
But the island doesn’t really disappear – it simply moves back and forth through time, as if in a metaphysical game of hide and seek, or perhaps Duck Duck Goose.
Every time a time-shift occurs, there is blinding light and ear-piercing loudness, followed by confusion and much irritated finger pointing and arguing by everyone involved.
AND NOW, TONIGHT’S EPISODE:
Another instance of blinding light causes everyone to shield their eyes, squint, and grimace in obvious discomfort. Nerdy scientist Daniel Faraday checks his instruments.
Sawyer: OK, Poindexter, have we traveled through time again?
Daniel Faraday: Uh. . . Yeah . . .Uh. . . Yeah.
Locke: We need to keep moving.
Jack: Why, John? Why do we have to keep moving? Let me guess. Because the island told you to, right?
Locke: That’s right, Jack. The island told me to. I always do what the island tells me to do.
Sawyer: Bald, henpecked bastard.
Jack: Well, let me ask you this, John. Did the island tell you to give your no-good father your kidney? Did the island tell you to bring an undercover cop into your secret pot-growing operation? Did the island tell a grown man to go work in a toy store? Did the island tell you to fall in love with a phone sex woman? John, did the island tell you to be a loser your whole life?
Locke: Uh, no Jack. It just told me we need to keep moving, that’s all it told me.
Locke (under his breath): And to kick your ass every chance I get.
They came to a clearing and stopped suddenly, still hidden by the jungle In the clearing were several well-constructed huts, arranged within a rough semi-circle, with hinged bamboo doors, and with windows appointed with drapes . In the front of the semicircle of huts was a long, equally well-constructed bamboo table. Sitting at the table were four men and a woman: a tall, gangly young man wearing a red shirt and white sailor’s cap; a large burly blond-haired man wearing a blue shirt and a black naval cap; seated across from them was a man dressed in a white shirt and khakis – also visible were white sneakers; the fourth man was more elderly than the other three and dandily dressed, a man who exuded style and wealth. The woman was as equally old and well dressed. In the center of the table was a small portable radio.
Jack: So who are these people?
Jin (frightened): Udders!
Kate: What time period are we in now?
Faraday: I don’t know, but that radio looks like something from the 1960s.
Sayid: A radio? There is a radio? If there is indeed a radio, it is imperative that I attempt to repair it immediately.
Sawyer: Hold on, Muammar. You don’t have to fix every damn radio you see. Do you want to get us all killed?
Jack: I wonder which one of those huts they keep all their guns in.
Sawyer: So Doc, what do we do now?
Jack: I say we kill ‘em. Kill ‘em all.
Sawyer: Good God, Kevorkian, what’s gotten into you? You always want to kill everybody.
Locke: Hey, what are you two talking about?
Sawyer: What’s it to you, Cueball?
Locke: I just think I need to know what you two are thinking, so I can calmly disagree with you and tell you in a Zen-like manner that you can’t possibly understand what’s at stake here.
Sawyer: Well if you must know, Dr. Mengele here wants to kill ‘em all. Big surprise, huh?
Locke (calmly, yet adamantly): If there’s any killing to be done, James, I’m the one who’s going to do it.
Sawyer: Oh yeah, Curly? With what? You don’t even have a gun.
Locke: No, but I do have this butter knife that I took from Ben’s house. That should be sufficient.
Sawyer: Stick a lollipop in it, Kojak.
While they continue to argue, two beautiful women emerge from one of the huts. One is a cute brunette, wearing obscenely short short-shorts. The other is a tall, glamorous redhead.
Sawyer: Hey Doc, do you see what I see?
Jack: I sure do.
Sawyer: Since we’re the only two men on this island studly enough to get any, what say you and me go half and half. Which one do you want?
Jack: Well, since I’m already doing it with Kate and Juliet, I’ll take the redhead. That’ll give me a hat trick.
Sawyer: Fine then, I’ll take little Dorothy.
Jack: Hey Sawyer, so after we do ‘em–then can I kill ‘em?
Sayid: Jack, allow me to ask you one favor. Before you kill them, may I please torture them for information?
Sawyer: No! Jeez, I thought I was supposed to be the heartless one on this island.
Locke: We don’t have time for this–
Sawyer: You’re just jealous, Daddy Warbucks. You had a chance to make it with that Claire chick back when little ol’ rock star Charlie went all Sid and Nancy on everybody, but you decided you’d rather hang out with that creepy bug-eyed bastard.
The two women who were coming from one of the huts are carrying something in each hand.
“Who wants pie!?” the perky brunette asks loudly. “We have coconut crème and banana crème.”
Hurley: Dude, did somebody say ‘pie’?
Hurley separates some branches with his hands and begins walking toward the strangers.
Jack: Hurley! No!
Sawyer: Dammit, Pop ‘n Fresh, you’re gonna get us all killed!
Hurley ignores them and continues walking toward the pie-laden table.
The seven strangers, startled, jump to their feet.
“Who are you?” the large man in the blue shirt asks.
“Wow, Skipper, there’s somebody else on this island even fatter than you!” the skinny man in the red shirt says. The large man takes off his hat and hits the smaller man squarely on top of the head with it.
Hurley: Hey dudes, can I have some of that pie?
Meanwhile, Jack has taken matters into his own hands. He has sneaked around behind the huts and darts toward the red-shirted young man. Jack grabs him around the neck and holds a pistol to his temple.
Jack: Okay, all you people tell me who you are – right now! – or I’m gonna blow this little white hat clean off this little twerp’s head! I’m not lying! I’ll do it! I mean, I really really want to do it!
The man identified as Skipper says, “Okay mister, just take it easy. I don’t know who you are, but we don’t mean anybody any harm.”
Jack: Who are you? How did you get here?
Skipper (nervously): Uh, we’re seven stranded castaways. We, we, we were on a three-hour tour. The, the weather started getting rough. Our ti-ti-tiny ship was tossed. Please, mister, don’t hurt my little buddy.
The man with the gun to his head is visibly trembling all over. His knees are knocking, causing his loose-fitting white pants to shake noticeably. He mutters helplessly, “Skipper! Skipper!”
Jack: You’re lying! You’re with The Others! I’m gonna count to three. . .If you don’t tell me who you really are and how you got here, your little buddy here gets it! One!
Skipper: I swear mister, I don’t know anything about any “Others.”
Jack: Two!
Skipper: Well, the Professor and Mary Ann were referred to as “The Rest” for about a year, if that’s what you’re talking about.
Jack: Three!
But before Jack can pull the trigger, the quaking hostage faints and falls to the ground. Jack backs away and points his gun at each of the other six strangers. He seems indecisive about what to do next. The older man, nattily dressed, steps forward. The elderly lady, apparently his wife, exclaims, “Thurston! What are you doing?“
Thurston: The man might be a savage, Lovey, but I speak the universal language – money! My good sir, how much would you take for that little gun? A thousand? Ten thousand?
Jack: I don’t want your money, mister!
Thurston (aside to his wife): The brute is completely uncivilized!
Thurston (to Jack): Of course, how silly of me! May I interest you in some real estate? How would you like to own your own island – a little island I own. You may have heard of it – it’s called Manhattan!
Jack: Get away from me old man!
Thurston (taken aback): What! You refuse a Howell! Are you mad?
Thurston (aside to his wife): Obviously a Yale man.
Just as the old man cowers backward, the glamorous redhead starts to move slowly toward Jack.
Jack trains the gun on her. She continues to come toward him seductively, saying as she approaches, “Hello, tall dark and handsome.” She gets close enough to Jack to touch him. She rubs her hands over his exposed biceps. “Ooo – you’re so big and strong,” she coos. “You don’t really want to shoot that little gunny-gun, do you? You don’t really want to hurt little Ginger-poo.” She rubs her hand through Jack’s hair. Kate is looking on, very displeased. Juliet purses her lips in jealousy. Jack is momentarily entranced by her sheer voluptuousness, giving Locke enough time to take his gun away.
Locke: Okay, I think it’s time for some proper introductions. . . .
As introductions are made, it soon becomes apparent that they, strangely, have quite a bit in common with the seven strangers.
Charlie (pointing to Thurston): ‘E’s a millionaire? Are you yankin’ me chain, mate? We have our own millionaire – Hulley here. Hulley’s a millionaire several times over, as a matter o’ fact. What are the odds that there would be two multi-millionaires in our two lit’le groups of people?
Thurston: Him? A millionaire? (pointing to Hurley)
Lovey: Oh, how dreadfully gauche!
Hurley: Yeah, but I don’t want any of the money.
Thurston: Heavens to Betsy! Are they all mad?
Hurley: You can have it all if you want it.
The little man in the white hat and red shirt regains consciousness.
Jack: What’s his name?
Skipper: That’s Gilligan.
Thurston: He’s a good lad, but he always sabotages our chances of getting rescued.
Hurley: That sounds like Locke, dude.
Thurston (to Hurley): Now, young man, getting back to the matter at hand. Something about giving me all of your money?
Hurley: Yeah, it’s brought me nothing but trouble. Bad things always seem to happen to me.
Gilligan (sheepishly): That sounds like me, right Skipper?
Skipper: That’s right, little buddy.
Meanwhile, Sawyer makes his move on the redhead.
“My name is Ginger,” she says, “I’m a famous Hollywood actress.”
Sawyer: No kiddin’? We had a famous actress in our group, too. What was her name?
Hurley: Nikki, dude. She was, sort of, uh, buried alive. Well, we didn’t know she was alive when we buried her. She was in a trance for a long time. She didn’t move at all.
Gilligan: Just like you, Professor. Remember when you were in that trance, Professor?
Professor: I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gilligan. I was never in a trance.
Hurley: She was bitten by some kind of spider.
Gilligan: I was bitten by a vampire bat!
Hurley: This was definitely a spider.
Gilligan: Was it a giant spider?
Hurley: Pretty big, dude.
Locke: So, Professor, you’re actually a high school science teacher?
Professor: Yes, but I’m highly competent in a large array of disciplines.
Gilligan: Yeah, and he knows a lot about a lot of stuff, too!
Hurley: Dude, we had a high school science teacher, too. How weird is that?
Professor: What happened to him?
Hurley: You don’t want to know, dude.
Gilligan: Do you guys have a lot of weird dreams on this island. I mean, dreams where you’re like in a different time and place?
Desmond: Aye, brutha. It ‘appens all the time. I don’t know where I am half the time, brutha.
Gilligan: Yeah, the dreams are so real. I thought for sure I was a vampire.
Locke: And do different people who you would never expect to show up on the island just suddenly appear out of nowhere? Like my father?
Jack: Or my father?
Hurley: Or my friend Dave?
Gilligan: No, but we had Zsa Zsa Gabor and Phil Silvers.
Sawyer: No foolin’? Have you seen that crazy Russian runnin’ around? He’s a spy for the Others.
Gilligan: Yeah, the Russian spy! We saw him! Did he look just like me?
Sawyer: Well no, not unless that’s a glass eye you got there, Sammy.
Jack: Have you people ever left this island?
Gilligan: Well, there was that time we were kidnapped by the mad scientist and taken to a nearby island, where he performed experiments on us.
Sawyer: Been there, done that. Kept in a cage, right?
Gilligan: That’s right. He turned the Professor into Mary Ann, and the Skipper into Ginger, and – -
Sawyer: Jeez, all I had to do was figure out how to get a fish snack.
Locke: Let me ask you this: Have any of you experienced any strange physical transformations while you’ve been on the island?
Gilligan: What do you mean?
Sawyer: What the King and I is trying to say is, how does he suddenly go from being Ironside to being Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier?
Gilligan: Oh yeah – that happens all the time. I turned invisible.
Locke: Jacob!
Gilligan: And I’ve had super strength, and Mary Ann had super eyesight. One time I turned into a radio.
Sayid: Did you say you were a radio?
Locke: Shut up, Sayid.
Jack: Do you know who the Others are?
Kate: They wear disguises, fake beards. I found all their costumes.
Gilligan: Yeah, we have costumes. We put on a play, kinda like Hamlet. And we made a movie.
Hurley notices something that immediately captures his attention.
Hurley: Is that a car, dude?
Gilligan: Yeah, that’s our bamboo car.
Hurley: Can I drive it, dude? I can make any kind of car run.
Sawyer: A bamboo car? So how many miles to the coconut does that thing get?
As everyone laughs as they watch Hurley drive the bamboo car around in circles, Gilligan notices something off in the distance that frightens him.
Gilligan: Hey Skipper?
Skipper: Not now, Gilligan.
Gilligan: Skipper – -
Skipper: Be quiet, Gilligan.
Gilligan: But Skipper – -
Skipper (exasperated): Gilligan, why can’t you just be quiet and enjoy Hurley’s shenanigans like the rest of us?
Gilligan (tugging on Skipper’s shirt): Skipper!
Skipper: Gilligan, for the last time – - be quiet!
As Gilligan dives under the bamboo table, the smoke monster rushes toward the huts. Just as the smoke reaches the clearing, a blinding light appears, accompanied by an annoying shrill loudness. Everyone shields their eyes, squints, and grimaces. When they open their eyes, everyone is suddenly face to face with a leathery brown man in an immaculate white suit and with an immaculate head of wondrous hair. Standing right beside this man is a dwarf, who, in an amazingly irritating little voice, keeps repeating something about de plane, de plane.
