I could say I would like the Professor from Gilligan’s Island and zombie Bob Vila…to help me turn the island into a place where people could live and prosper and live in peace…or they could help me build my lair of evil…where you would hear conversations such as this…
MJM: We must prepare for tomorrow night.
Zombie Bob Vila: Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night?
MJM: The same thing we do every night, Zombie Bob Vila - try to take over the world!
I could always turn the island into some wild and crazy beach resort…where we could have a “Weekend at Bernies” style good time with Elvis and Tupac…we could be jamming out to “Don't be cruel…or I’m gonna cap yo ass”…a good old Elvis and Tupac coloration…while we’re rocking the place like a hurricane.
I could go the route of a prepubescent boy…and take with me the Swedish Bikini Team and The Baywatch girls…that way we could play team beach volleyball of course. They would all also have a bad case of irreversible laryngitis…and there would be a nasty clothes eating bacteria on the island…which I guess would have us playing skins vs. skins when we get our volleyball on…but for the good of the island I would be willing to ref every game…and rub sunscreen on all the contestants (boi oi oing)…we couldn’t have the girls getting sunburnt now could we.
I could bring with me all the supplies necessary to turn this island into the next Disney World…where people from all over the world would come to visit…leaving me piles of money and children’s puke. I would come up with my own cast of colorful and annoying characters to roam the park and scare the children…I would have people dressed up as all the classic horror movie characters like Freddy Krueger and Jason…wouldn’t that be adorable…and oh so much fun.
But knowing my luck…what will most likely happen…is I’ll be like Tom Hanks in Castaway…spending my days losing my mind and playing with my good friend Wilson. We would never get off the island though…we would die there…only to find out in the afterlife that we were actually in Hawaii…just on one of the empty side of the island.
Some screwball tourist would find my skull…and with it being all enormous and stuff…think they stumbled upon the remains of a bigfoot or the elephant man…so even in death my bad luck would continue and instead of being buried and set to rest…my bones would be on display for people to ohhh and ahhh over.
I tell you...just like Rodney Dangerfield...I get no respect. I’ll probably end up on an island the size of a manhole cover…surrounded by a bunch of homosexual cannibalistic Chippendale (and I don’t mean those cute little chipmunks either) dancers…and I would just so happened to be wearing my barbeque sauce scented cologne that day.