Starsky Contemplates Gilligan's Dark Secret
Sun, 20 Feb 2000
by
Rosemary

"Hey, Hutch..."

"Hmmm?" Hutch mumbled, not looking up from his NY TIMES Book Review as his partner's voice emerged from the other end of the couch.

It was a quiet Sunday morning in VP. The howls of laughter from Crowrow's apartment had finally died down about one am, just about the time Flamingo and partner had staggered off to their own digs. The halls were peaceful for once. No disharmonious cacaphony of band music, no one hawking poops in the hall, no virtual reality tarantulas rampaging with unicorns and Floating Rambo Jim Heads. nothing but blessed peace and quiet. A time to just sit back on the couch with Starsky's feet in his lap, just enjoying the quiet time alone.

"Did you ever really think about the deeper meanings of GILLIGAN'S ISLAND, babe?" Starsky asked in that pensive tone that sent chills of terror down his lover's spine.

"Err, no. Ah, what deeper meanings are you talking about?"

"Well, I been giving this a lot of thought lately and I think Gilligan's Island is really Hell," Starsky solemnly explained.

Hutch had known it was a mistake to answer that question. He'd just known it. Gathering his courage around him, he resolutely enquired, as all good lovers should when their partners were trying to share something deeply significant with them, "What makes you think that, Starsk?"

"Well, the island's sorta like hell. You know - nobody on the island wants to be there, yet noone's able to leave. "

"Yeah, I guess, but that doesn't exactly make it hell, Starsk."

"Yeah, but all the deadly sins that are supposed to put you in hell are represented there, Hutch," Starsky argued like the captain of a high school debating team.

If offered a bet that Starsky would have even known what the 7 Deadly Sins were, Hutch would have refused to take it flat out. Stunned by this piece of erudition, the blond bit back on his mounting fear and calmly continued with, "Oh? How's that?"

Hutch knew he was going to regret this. He just knew it.

His handsome face screwing up in a serious cast, Starsky offered his points, "Well, just think of it: each one of the characters represents one of the 7 deadly sins:

Ginger represents LUST - she wears skimpy outfits, is obsessed with her looks, and is a borderline nymphomaniac, like our Orgy Mistress upstairs."

"I don't think Marcia is obsessed with her looks," Hutch challenged.

"Well, maybe not like Ginger was, but Marcia sure looked pretty in that skimpy thing she was wearing at band practice the other night," Starsky responded.

Recalling how Starsky had gotten pissed because he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off their orgy mistress' cleavage during practice the other night, Hutch thought it prudent to refrain from further incrimination. "Okay, so you got Ginger covering LUST. What about the rest?"

Looking absurdly pleased to have won this first point, Starsky continued with, "Well, Mary Ann represents ENVY, cause she's always jealous of Ginger's beauty."

"Okay, I'll give you that one. What about the other?" Hutch was sure this insane proposition was going to fall short any minute.

Really warming to his subject now, Starsk went on with, "The Professor represents PRIDE. He's an annoying know-it-all."

Hutch noodded and Starsky continued, "Mr. Howell represents GREED - no explanation needed there. And his wife, Mrs. Howell represents SLOTH , cause she never lifted a finger to help on any of their escape plans."

"Well what about the skipper?" Hutch asked, not showing how impressed he was with Starsk knowing what SLOTH meant.. "The Skipper represents two sins: GLUTTONY - I don't think I need to explain why there - and ANGER, cause he violently hits Gilligan on each show."

Sure that he'd found a loophole in this eerily well thought out, deranged proposition, Hutch challenged, "Well what about Gilligan?"

There was no way that that innocuous figure could represent one of the Deadly Sins, Hutch thought, confident that he'd picked a huge hole in another of Starsky's bizarro propositions.

"Well, Gilligan, he's really a metaphorical representation of the Devil, Hutch," Starsky explained in a hushed, almost apprehensive tone, like he was scared Gilligan might be listening in, instead of their 150 some odd neighbors.

"What?" Hutch choked back his laughter - just barely.

"Well, think about it, Hutch. Gilligan wears red in every episode."

Hutch stuttered on the thought, "You drive a red car every day. That doesn't make you the Devil."

"Yeah, but... Gilligan is the person who put them all there. He prevents them from leaving by messing up all of their escape plots. Also, it is HIS island. Hutch. Gilligan is SATAN and the Island is Hell."

Awed by the inescapable logic of his lover's oft-times frightening thought processes, Hutch stared at those beloved features. Afer a moment, he sweetly enquired, "So, does that mean we're going to Gilligan's Island when we die, Babe?"

Looking terribly concerned, Starsky shrugged, "Beats me. that's what I've been tryna figure out all morning."

Hutch tossed his book review to the floor. "Well, just so long as we get to share the same hammock, I don't care much. Come up here. I wanna give Ginger some competition."

Happy to see the worry fade from those way too serious features, hutch happily welcomed his lover into his arms, totally oblivious to the hidden camera lens in the corner.

Love to all,
Ro