A/N: This is a very silly comedy fic in the style of a cartoony Season 3 episode. No depth whatsoever. Please don't take offense- no ships were harmed, just teased a little bit. Sometimes I just want to be silly :-D
Lipstick, Powder and Paint is a song by Shakin' Stevens. (Britain's answer to Elvis) I've just borrowed the title- there is no other similarity.
The Professor's heart sank as he heard the Supply Hut door close behind Gilligan. He was in the middle of an important job and did not welcome the intrusion. Being a polite, normally mild mannered man, he plastered on his best smile and turned around.
"What brings you here, Gilligan?" He secretly hoped it was a flying visit. Gilligan usually got bored quickly. He'd try to make this encounter as dull as possible.
Gilligan slouched across the room to the Professor's work area. "Skipper doesn't need my help. He told me to see if the girls needed my help. They didn't. They told me to see if the Howells needed my help. They didn't. So they told me-"
"To see if the Professor needed your help." The Professor's heart sank even further. There were no other castaways on whom he could offload Gilligan. He was stuck with the boy.
Gilligan regarded the items on the table with feigned indifference. His fingers hovered over a half oyster shell containing some pigmented powder, drawing back quickly when he caught a stern glance from the Professor. "What's all this junk for?" he asked.
"I'm making some cosmetics," said the Professor, looking wounded. "Not that it's any of your business," he added under his breath.
"Cosmetics? That's a fancy word for makeup, isn't it? Is that what you're making? Lipstick and stuff?"
The Professor sighed and folded his arms. Gilligan was more astute than he looked at the most inconvenient times, like the friend who always reminded you of embarrassing things you did when you were drunk. Not that the Professor was ever drunk, but it had happened once or twice in his misspent youth, and a further few times here on the island even though he claimed to be allergic to alcohol.
"Since you'll become even more insistent if I don't tell you, the answer is yes. I'm making cosmetics for Ginger."
"What do you mean, 'oh'?"
Gilligan peered closer at the array of shells and bottles containing powders, gels, various plants and fruits, dried bark, crushed spices, wildflowers and other bits and pieces gathered by the Professor on his many forays into the jungle. "This isn't the color she wears."
"Oh really? And how would you know?"
"I get close up views when she kisses me." Gilligan made a barfing sound and wiped his mouth.
"I'll have you know she's kissed me too and I distinctly recall it was precisely that shade of coral."
"Nuh uh. It needs to be more peachy. Mix some of that with some of this." Gilligan pointed to some powders which the Professor grudgingly mixed together along with some fresh aloe. As the powders thickened into a soft paste, he had to admit the new color reminded him of Ginger's lips more than the first batch he'd made.
"I'll say one thing, Gilligan. You do have an eye for detail when it comes to cosmetics."
"Nah, just things I need to avoid. Like Ginger's mouth."
The Professor suppressed a smile. He was about to put the mixture into a decorated oyster shell when Gilligan shouted,
"Gotta taste it."
Gilligan dabbed some mixture onto his lips and smacked them together. He frowned, looked up. "Something's not right."
"Of course. You'd know."
With gleaming, peachy-coral colored lips, Gilligan said, "Crush some of those berries. The orangey ones- not the blue ones. The blue ones brought me out in hives once." Gilligan and the Professor's eyes met in panic.
"Get rid of the blue ones," said Roy, hastily throwing them out of the window.
He set about crushing the orange berries with a small pestle until the room filled with a sweet, delectable scent, like warm orangeflower and honey. The Professor drifted to exotic places in his mind- hammocks swinging lazily by a gently lapping shore on some distant isle, not this one. "Gilligan!" he declared. "That's exactly right!"
"Now mix three and a half drops into the lip gunk."
Vaguely wondering what half a drop looked like, the Professor did as Gilligan said. Then, after stirring the mixture for a good 120 seconds, he let Gilligan dab some on his lips.
Gilligan went through the same pantomime, this time with eyes closed. "Boy, if I didn't know better I'd think Ginger was right here kissing me." His eyes snapped open, fear flashing across his face in case Ginger had indeed materialized out of thin air to plant one on him. "Almost too real," he said, grinning through painted lips.
They moved onto eyeshadow next.
"What color's this?" Gilligan lifted a small bowl and examined its contents.
"Looks like blue."
"It is blue. Cerulean blue."
"Coulda said so," Gilligan muttered accusingly. "It's wrong, anyway. It needs to be more tur... turtle. Turkey. Tur..."
Gilligan nodded frantically. "Yeah. Turquoise."
The Professor mixed, shook and stirred, adding a pinch of this and a smidgen of that getting further and further away from turquoise until Gilligan told him to stop.
"That's it!" the First Mate shouted.
The Professor stared at the bowl of powder. "Gilligan, that's emerald."
"Oh yeah." Gilligan smiled sheepishly. "I always get those two mixed up. Anyway, that's Ginger's color all right."
The Professor balanced the bowl in his palm and faced Gilligan with one raised finger coated in green powder. "Mind if I...?"
Gilligan gave an affable shrug. "Go ahead."
The Professor gently dabbed a little powder onto Gilligan's eyelids. He was careful not to overdo it. Not because Ginger's use of cosmetics was subtle, but mainly because he didn't want Gilligan to get powder up his nose and start sneezing and breaking things. When he was done, Roy stood back and admired his handiwork. He had to admit, the combination of emerald eyeshadow and coral-peach lipstick was reminiscent of Ginger, even on Gilligan's very un-Gingerlike features. Especially when you closed one eye and made the other go blurry.
"Gilligan, it is testament to your observational skills that you've convinced me those are Ginger's colors," he said in a triumphant tone. "Now. We have one more item to make. Rouge."
Gilligan licked at the makeup on his lips. "What's roodge?"
"Rouge, Gilligan. It's like blusher. Ginger rubs it on her cheeks to give them a glow."
"Sunburn gives her a glow. She hates it."
The Professor busied himself with a fresh set of ingredients. "Sunburn is different. It's very damaging. Rouge gives her that healthy, flushed look without the pain."
"I guess," said Gilligan with another shrug. "Girls are confusing. They don't want to be sunburned but they want to look sunburned."
"We're not aiming for the boiled lobster look," said the Professor. "You tell me when you think it's right."
Gilligan watched in silence as the Professor again began mixing and measuring. He used the pestle to grind dried red berries into a fine powder and mixed it with chalk to make a deep, seductive pink. He began to feel warm- but then again he had been grinding the pestle very hard and a slight sweat had broken out. He wiped his brow on his forearm and kept going. Five minutes later and Gilligan still hadn't said a word.
"What do you think?" he prompted, tipping the bowl towards Gilligan.
Gilligan appeared startled. "Huh? Oh, sorry Professor. I was just thinking about a big, fluffy slice of coconut cream pie."
The Professor sighed wearily. "Gilligan, thanks to you I think I pulled a muscle in my shoulder. Now tell me what you think about this color!"
"It's pink. Very pink."
"But is it the correct pink? Should it be more fuschia, or more salmon?"
"Salmon? That's a fish. Professor you don't want Ginger to look like a fish!"
"It's a shade of pink, not just a fish. Come on Gilligan, you're the expert here. Does it need to be lighter or darker? Rose, fruit punch or watermelon?"
Gilligan thought hard for a moment. "Bubblegum!" he said at last. "Yeah. Bubblegum."
"You're sure now? Not flamingo, or cerise, or magenta?"
"Uh uh. Bubblegum." Gilligan drifted off again. "I sure wish I had some bubblegum," he said wistfully. "Skinny Mulligan asked me once if I wanted some ABC gum so I said 'yeah' and he took a wad out of his mouth and stuck it to my hand and I asked what that was and he said, it's ABC gum. Already Been Chewed."
Roy shook his head and mixed the final batch. All that was left was to test it on Gilligan and see how it blended with his skin tone. Gilligan stood still and allowed the Professor to sweep the rouge over his cheekbones with a small powder brush. Just at that moment, the door cracked open and the Skipper poked his head into the hut.
"Hey, Professor. Have you seen... Oh! Excuse me, ma'am." He politely took off his hat.
"Hey, Skipper! It's me, Gilligan!" The First Mate's shiny peach-coral lips widened into a huge grin. He looked strangely proud of himself. The Skipper rammed his hat back onto his head and glared at the Professor.
"This had better be good!"
The Professor gestured towards his work table. "Gilligan and I were just trying out these new cosmetics I'm making. What do you think?"
Skipper stared at his little buddy's face. "I think that's enough makeup on Gilligan," he said, jokingly. "Unless the Howells are having another costume party they didn't invite me to."
"No Skipper, there's no party. Gilligan is just a test subject," said the Professor.
"Oh, well, I'm sure it'll look better on your intended victim." The Skipper shuffled awkwardly then told them he was going to lie in his hammock for a while. He shut the door and left.
The Professor handed Gilligan a cloth. "Wipe it all off and we'll package everything up in these pretty shells I decorated. Presentation is very important, especially to a glamorous movie star like Ginger."
Wiping the myriad colors from his face, Gilligan said, "we should make some for Mary Ann, too. So she doesn't feel left out. Besides, I bet I know her colors even better than I know Ginger's."
"Good idea," said the Professor, his face brightening as though an actual lightbulb had switched on above his head. He began rearranging the clutter on his work table. "Now, let's see. How about this for her lips?"
"Too dark," said Gilligan.
The Professor scratched his head, cogwheels turning in his brain.
"Got any strawberries?" Gilligan asked.
"Strawberries! Yes! Mary Ann's lips are the color of strawberries! Well done, Gilligan!"
"I meant, have you got any strawberries? I'm hungry."
The Professor's brow furrowed. "Gilligan! Please concentrate. Now, where do we start?"
Thirty minutes later the Skipper peered around the door again, only to see the Professor busy dabbing a tan colored powder all over Gilligan's face. The First Mate now had a bright red mouth, chocolate colored eyelids and smudged charcoal eyelashes. Both of them were so engrossed in their task they didn't notice they had company. Gilligan stood as compliant as a lamb, while the Professor looked positively gleeful, as though he'd just invented another coconut guillotine. His work table looked like the cosmetics counter of a department store after a tornado. The Skipper decided not to alert them to his presence. He closed the door very, very quietly and decided to go for a mooch around the lagoon where it was safer.
Finally the Professor and Gilligan were ready to present the gift of fresh cosmetics to the girls. Gilligan's face bore traces of color despite wiping it thoroughly. The aroma of berries lingered around him and a bee flew in and landed on his nose.
Going cross eyed as he watched it waggledancing on the end of his proboscis, Gilligan said, "what if the girls get stung?"
"They won't," said the Professor. "It's only you that ever gets stung."
Gilligan blew gently upwards and the bee buzzed merrily away. He knew that was true. If there were any maneating insects on the island they always targeted him first.
"I guess you could say, they make a beeline for you," the Professor chuckled. "Get it? Bee line?"
"Don't worry, Professor. I always get it."
The Professor handed him a basket containing Mary Ann's cosmetics. "Aren't you lucky to have me and my big book of insects around?"
Gilligan smiled wryly at the Professor's huge grin. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
Roy clapped him on the shoulder before picking up the other basket containing Ginger's cosmetics. "Let's go and surprise the girls," he said, pushing Gilligan towards the door.
As the bright sun hit them, they heard a commotion at the communal table in the middle of their compound. It sounded like high pitched squealing and screaming. The Professor and Gilligan stared at each other in worry and surprise.
"Sounds like wild cats fighting," said Roy, "except there aren't aren't any wild cats on the island! Come on, Gilligan, don't just stand there!"
Still clutching their baskets, they hurried to the source of the squealing. Rounding the corner, they skidded to a halt in the sand. Ginger and Mary Ann were jumping up and down around the Skipper who had placed a wet wooden crate on the table and was in the middle of prising it open with his bare hands.
"Look what the Skipper found in the lagoon!" cried Ginger when she saw the Professor. "A crate full of brand new cosmetics!"
"It must have fallen from a cargo ship!" said Mary Ann, excitedly.
"I had to wade in up to my waist to get it," said the Skipper, indicating his drenched pants and squelchy shoes.
"And we're so glad you did," said Ginger, crinkling her nose.
"Oh, it's really not a big deal," said the Skipper, quite clearly basking in the girls' adoration.
Mary Ann dug her hands into the open box and lifted up a handful of shiny plastic containers. "Lipstick, foundation, eyeliner, powder compacts! All in pristine condition!"
"And all brand names," Ginger said with a breathy sigh. "Max Quant, Mary Factor, Maybellon, Revline... Just about everything a girl could want." She opened a compact and gasped at the color. "Shell pink. My favorite!"
For the fifteenth time that day, or at least that's how many times it felt, the Professor's heart sank. He looked down at his little collection of handmade items then at Gilligan. "Did you hear that, Gilligan? Shell pink," he uttered.
Gilligan shrugged defensively. "It's close to Bubblegum."
"Here, Mary Ann, you might like this one. It's too much like bubblegum for me," said Ginger, handing her friend a compact.
Gilligan eyed the Professor's lowered brow. "Anyone can make a mistake."
"Not like you, Gilligan. You're the master of mistake making. The Emperor of Errors! The... the Boss of Blunders!"
Gilligan thought it wise not to thank the Professor for the compliments; he'd made that mistake too many times over the years. Instead he pushed his hat down over his eyes and frowned as the girls threw their arms around the Skipper, covering him in grateful kisses. Noticing the Professor and Gilligan watching, the Skipper grinned broadly and waved.
"He doesn't need to rub our noses in it," Gilligan muttered.
The Professor nodded in agreement. "Look at him, acting like the Big Hero."
The Professor grabbed Gilligan's sleeve and pulled. "Come on, Gilligan, our gifts will keep. In the meantime, I need your help for a new project."
His interest piqued, Gilligan followed Roy back to the Supply Hut like a faithful puppy. "Like what, Professor?" he prompted eagerly.
The Professor turned at the door with a most devilish look that out-evilled all the villains in al the comic books Gilligan had ever read. "Like sabotaging a certain crate of cosmetics without anyone guessing it was us!"
Idk if I should write a chapter 2 where the Professor actually tries it. XD