[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]
[BELL TOLLS]
The plane! The plane!
[GIRLS GIGGLING]
- Good morning, Boss.
- Good morning, Tattoo.
ROARKE: Let's go.
[GIRLS GIGGLING]
Smiles, everyone. Smiles.
[POLYNESIAN MUSIC PLAYING]
- TATTOO: Boss, who is she?
- ROARKE: She claims to be
Miss Carla Baines
from Chicago, Illinois.
She claims to be?
Yes, Tattoo. I'm afraid
she lied about her identity,
along with certain other
details in her application,
such as her recent divorce
action against Mr. Hal Garnett,
owner and publisher
of Erotic Magazine.
Boss, what are you
gonna do about it?
Oh, I'm going to grant
the lady her fantasy,
which she may very
well live to regret.
What kind of fantasy is that?
She wishes to be the
world's most desirable woman,
because for years she has
felt neglected by Mr. Garnett.
ROARKE: Ah, yes, the gentleman
with the camera equipment
is listed as
Mr. William T. Keating,
photojournalist
from New Orleans,
accompanied by Mrs. Keating.
Boss, are we getting
our picture in the paper?
I very much doubt it, Tattoo.
Uh, Mr. Keating is only
interested in meeting
one particular person here.
TATTOO: Oh, I get it, he
has a fantasy assignment.
ROARKE: Uh, not exactly, Tattoo.
Mr. Keating tells me
that for many years,
he has dreamed
of tracking down...
and interviewing a certain
elusive soldier of fortune.
Major Calvin Doyle.
Boss, I heard about him.
They call him the Mad Major.
He's a famous mercenary leader.
ROARKE: Um, Mr. Keating
believes that the Major is living here
on Fantasy Island, under
another name, of course.
Unfortunately, Mr. Keating
is also a nom de guerre,
one might say, and his
interest in locating the Mad Major
is infinitely more
personal and perilous
than any mere
journalistic assignment.
Boss, are we in
for more trouble?
My dear guests, I am
Mr. Roarke, your host.
Welcome to Fantasy Island.
[♪♪♪♪♪]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
NARRATOR: In the
' s and early ' s,
wherever civil w*r or
revolution turned a country
into a battleground, there
you'd find the Mad Major,
Calvin Doyle, at the head of
his crack mercenary troops.
The former American Marine
had become the paid ally
of dictators, military juntas,
guerrillas and t*rrorists.
Some described him
as a glorified hitman.
Others called him
a military genius,
king of the wild east.
That breed of freelance
fighting men who,
throughout history,
have wandered the world
hiring out their services
to the highest bidder. And...
Some career.
- Indeed, quite a story.
- NARRATOR: and then Vietnam.
Reserve Officer Doyle,
recalled to active duty
as Special
Consultant to the CIA,
mysteriously disappears
and is posted as a deserter.
To this day, he
remains a fugitive,
if indeed, he is still alive.
Mr. Keating...
what makes you so certain
that Major Doyle is
on Fantasy Island?
A friend of mine, a sea captain,
put in here recently. He
saw him on the beach.
Besides, Mr. Roarke,
you wouldn't have granted
my fantasy unless you
were sure he was here.
Bill's been dreaming
about this since Saigon.
A world exclusive.
- You were in Vietnam?
- As a correspondent.
That was several years ago.
You realize that, uh,
the Major may not be the
same man you knew then.
A leopard doesn't change
his spots, Mr. Roarke.
Once a k*ller...
Oh, well...
can you tell me where he is?
I'm afraid you'll have to search
for your fantasy, Mr. Keating.
I see.
Let's go.
- Thanks.
- Good hunting, Mr. Keating.
Here we are, Miss Baines.
Two likenesses of the
world's most desirable women
in classical times.
Known to the ancient
Greeks as Aphrodite,
goddess of sensual beauty,
and to the Romans as Venus,
-goddess of love. -[SCOFFS]
Mr. Roarke, I... [CHUCKLES]
I do appreciate this lovely
gift you gave me but...
no bathing suit is going to
make me into one of those ladies.
ROARKE: Uh, you look most...
uh, desirable, if I may
say so, Miss Baines.
[CARLA LAUGHS] Thank you.
My -year-old body
also thanks you, but...
I'm...
I'm just a little embarrassed
about all this, Mr. Roarke.
Boss, maybe she's
changed her mind.
Have you, Miss Baines?
Do you indeed wish
to cancel your fantasy?
[SIGHS]
But it's nothing more
than plain old water.
Ah, not exactly, Miss Baines.
It is rumored that its source
is a secret spring deep
in the earth's mantle.
A source which also feeds
the legendary Fountain of Youth,
for which the great explorer
Ponce de Leon searched in vain.
You need only
step into its water...
and your fantasy will begin.
ROARKE: Trust me, Miss Baines.
Have faith, Miss Baines.
In me, in the fountain.
MARSHA: What
happens now, Mr. Roarke?
Boss, she's gone.
No, Tattoo, on the contrary.
Miss Baines is about to...
arrive.
[JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING]
Well, you must be number eight.
Where in blazes have you
been, anyway? I've been looking
all over the place for you.
Come on, the contest
is about to begin.
[SCOFFS] Contest?
Yeah, contest for the most
desirable woman in the world.
What'd you do, hit your
head on the bottom of the pool
or something? Come on.
After you.
I wonder what
lipstick I should wear.
Darn these false eyelashes.
I hope this makeup
covers this pimple.
I'm never gonna
be ready in time.
Oh, I'm so nervous, I could die.
I can't get my hands
to quit shaking.
My contact lens, I've lost it.
MODEL : Sometimes I
wish, I'd been born ugly.
- MODEL : Some poet said...
- I'll tell you something, kid.
All right, you
don't need it but...
[WHISPERS] ...good luck.
[CHUCKLES] Kid?
The name's Carla.
[CHUCKLES]
Something wrong?
No.
[LAUGHS] As a matter of fact,
things have never been better.
[CHUCKLES]
For sure.
Time to move.
-Is that him? -That's Doyle.
JED: As soon as the others
leave, I'll go down and...
[CLICKS] ...say hello.
For God's sakes, Bill!
You didn't say
anything about this.
JED: You're in no danger, Lucy.
Just sit right where you
are and watch what happens.
Then afterwards, you can
be my impartial witness.
[WHISTLES]
I know that song. It's the
one you learned in Africa.
A long time ago.
Who is that man?
An old acquaintance of mine.
Go help your sisters, Petie.
I said go.
Jed Borrison.
I guess, I always knew
this day would come.
I'm taking you back, Cal,
on your feet or in a box,
it's up to you.
But I'm taking you back.
You're going to sh**t
an unarmed man?
JED: You're a renegade,
a wanted criminal.
The statute to limitations
doesn't apply to treason
or m*rder. I could
execute you right now.
And get a commendation
in the process, sure.
You denied me enough of them.
This time I'd just as
soon deliver the carcass.
- Let's go, Cal.
- My name is John, Mr. John.
I've been here eight
years now. It's my home.
I don't plan on leaving.
So, you'd better k*ll me now.
- Your choice, Major.
- PETIE: Drop it, mister!
Don't turn around.
Just drop the g*n.
CALVIN: I know what
you're thinking, Jed.
Why don't I cut you down?
Finally get rid of my nemesis.
I'll tell you the truth...
I'm just darn sick
and tired of k*lling.
You know, I could have
sneaked in here just now
and shot you in the back.
That's not your style.
No fun.
You want to watch my face.
You want me to
squirm when you do it.
You got it, Major.
JED: I'll be back.
I know.
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
- [INDISTINCT CHATTER]
- [CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS]
MARSHA: Roarke did it.
He made me young again.
[CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS]
Hi. This is Liz Fuller,
welcoming you to part one
in our series of interviews
with Mr. Hal Garnett,
publisher of Erotic Magazine.
While around us the world's
most desirable woman contest,
sponsored by Mr. Garnett and
his magazine, is getting underway.
Why aren't you over there
watching, like everyone else?
Liz, in my job, every
day is a beauty contest,
so I guess you might
say that the, uh...
The mystery has worn off.
Between us, Hal,
how would you describe
a man who can order up
all that feminine
pulchritude on command?
GARNETT: Pulchritude?
[LAUGHS] Why, you make
it sound so dehumanizing.
"Dehumanizing"?
How can you say that?
A man who's probably
had more love affairs
than all the movie producers
in Hollywood combined.
GARNETT: Well,
yes, affairs, but, um...
well, I guess, you might say
that's an occupational hazard.
I really think love is something
that happens to a man maybe
once in his lifetime.
Oh, come on now, don't
spoil it for the multitudes
who share your amorous
escapades with their corn flakes.
No, I'm serious, Liz.
Oh, I've... I've known a lot
of beautiful women,
wonderful women,
and I've had rewarding
relationships with some of them,
but I've only been in love,
really in love, once.
You, uh, wouldn't care
to tell us her name?
Marsha.
My wife.
- MARSHA: Oh, boy. -[CHUCKLES]
What a marvelous
compliment for Mrs. Garnett.
I hope she appreciates it.
You'll have to ask her lawyer.
She just filed for divorce.
You heard it first on
The Liz Fuller Show.
TATTOO: Ladies and gentlemen...
the three semi-finalists are...
I... I really must
go. Thank you.
TATTOO: Joanne Mercier.
- [EXCLAIMS]
- [AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
-Trish Rhodes. -[ALL GASPING]
Carla Baines.
- [ALL GASPING]
- [AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER OVER PA]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
Thank you. Thank you.
Tomorrow, we'll judge
the world's most
desirable woman.
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
ROARKE: You lied to me, Mrs...
Miss Carson.
- You know my real name.
- Of course.
Do you realize, you are part
of a plot to m*rder Major Doyle?
No! Bill paid me to come
here with him as Mrs. Keating!
Look, that's all I know.
I'm just a cocktail waitress.
A free trip to Fantasy Island,
well, I jumped at the chance.
Mr. Roarke, I swear...
I had no idea what
he was planning.
Please, just get me out of here.
Where was, uh, Mr. Keating
when you last saw him?
At the beach...
talking to Doyle.
Very well. [EXHALES]
There will be a seat for
you on the next plane out.
Thank you.
Boss, you knew about
Mr. Keating's true purpose
in coming here.
Why did you grant
him his fantasy?
Because I realized,
as Major Doyle himself
has always known,
that the confrontation
between them was inevitable,
someday, somewhere.
I, therefore, decided that
it might as well be here
on Fantasy Island, where
I might be able to help him.
Can you help him?
I hope so, Tattoo.
But if the Major decides
to leave the island,
to run again...
there's no way I can save him.
[♪♪♪♪♪]
Petie, where are you going?
Oh, come on, you've been
sulking all day. What's wrong?
I have things to do.
Look, a man came from my past.
He talked about
the way I used to be.
It is my past.
He called you a k*ller.
Oh, Petie, I swear to
you, I found peace here!
For the first time in
my life, I found love!
Then fight for it!
You told me that peace
and freedom were things
worth fighting for.
And if you don't fight
for them, you lose them.
Do it!
Or everything you
ever told us was a lie.
[UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
- Oh, Miss Baines.
- Oh, Mr. Roarke.
[CHUCKLES] Well,
you did a terrific job,
you and your fountain.
Look at me.
Well, it's very difficult not
to look at you, Miss Baines.
[ROARKE CLEARS THROAT]
Uh, I suggest that you
enjoy it while it lasts.
Oh, I will enjoy it,
Mr. Roarke. Scout's honor.
Uh, you have not
forgotten, I trust...
that when the weekend is
over, you will once again...
shall we say, look your age.
Oh, that's all
right, Mr. Roarke.
I have plenty of time to
do what I came here for.
Excuse me.
[GARNETT COUGHING]
-[GARNETT CONTINUES
TO SLEEP] -[CHUCKLES]
[GARNETT] It's incredible.
Well, that certainly
is a nasty cough.
You should take
something for it.
The face, the eyes, the...
The way you move, I...
I know that line.
It's from a Cole
Porter song, right?
You look and
sound exactly like...
Like whom?
Like Marsha.
Like my wife.
Well, I'd like to see your wife.
Well, you can't, I mean,
she's... she's not here.
Um, also, she's not really
my wife. She's divorcing me.
Boss, you look worried.
I am, Tattoo.
I thought Miss
Baines was above that.
-Above what? -Revenge.
Maybe it would help you to talk.
Would you like to tell
me about your wife?
I sure would.
She, um...
She has a radiant
smile, just like yours.
- Her laugh sounds like music.
- [CHUCKLES]
She still has a good figure.
Well, that's good to hear.
But she's older.
So is the best wine.
Excuse me, Boss, I need
Carla for a photo session.
Oh.
She's next month's
centerfold, you know.
You don't mind posing like that?
Oh, no, not at all.
[CHUCKLES] I mean, why should
I? I'm a free agent, Mr. Garnett.
I won't embarrass anybody.
MARSHA: Besides,
it's for Erotic Magazine.
Okay, fine. Now, drop the robe.
This is no time to get coy.
Carla, this is not a white
sale we're doing here, okay?
This is Erotic Magazine.
Now, you happen
to be our centerfold.
So drop the robe.
Come on, it's
Mr. Garnett's stock in trade.
No!
Will you please come
with me, Miss Baines? Now.
Look, Mr. Roarke, we happen
to be doing a photo session here
- and I've got work to...
- Back off, Mr. Strutton.
ROARKE: I want to see you
in my office in three hours.
Petie, I uh, I want you
to promise me something.
I'll take care of everything.
Don't worry about us.
I'm almost , you know.
[CAGE RATTLING]
Look, I really don't
want to do this.
It's okay. You've
already explained.
I'm gonna go for a
walk. I'll talk to you later.
Mr. Roarke.
Good to see you.
I thought it was time
we had a little chat...
Major.
I guess it is.
Though, I'm pretty sure
you know all about me.
I know that, uh, you
are a man of many wars,
that you led your own
private army and campaigns
on three continents, and
in less than two decades,
changed the course
of world history.
I guess my past has
finally caught up with me.
CALVIN: Somewhere out
there, Jed Borrison is watching.
I could just feel it.
[EXHALES DEEPLY]
Look, I didn't mean
to make trouble.
I know, now I never should
have come to Fantasy Island.
On the contrary.
You have been a definite
asset to our community...
Mr. Doyle.
ROARKE: Perhaps you are
being unduly harsh on yourself.
The Mad Major was a
product of a troubled time.
A violent era.
But it seems to me that,
uh, in all of your ventures,
you took the side
of the underdog.
Well, I tried, Mr. Roarke.
I made a lot of mistakes.
-Men died. -Indeed.
But you also saved many lives.
In my opinion, most of
the time you were right.
And, uh, Mr. Borrison's
superiors, those faceless,
nameless men who wanted
to use you, were wrong.
And in the end, disowned
you, made you a scapegoat.
CALVIN: Mr. Roarke...
what do you think
I should do now?
Well, uh, since you ask, I
suggest you try to arrange...
a little party...
for your adopted family
and the many close friends
you've made here.
There's time enough.
[SIGHS]
Mr. Roarke, I
think you're right.
I would like to leave them
with some nice memories.
I also want you to know
that I... I really tried to leave
all that v*olence behind me.
I know.
I guess it's true what
they say, though...
"He who lives by the sword
must die by the sword."
Thank you.
- Ah, Mr. Garnett.
- Oh, Mr. Roarke,
- thank you for coming.
- My pleasure.
- What can I do for you?
- I, uh...
I could use some advice.
-About a girl. -Indeed.
Well, I should think you
would be the very last man
to need advice in
that department.
Yes, I know, but this is not...
this is not just any girl,
Mr. Roarke. You see...
There is no need to
explain, Mr. Garnett.
You have met a girl who
bears a remarkable resemblance
to your wife when she was
the same age. Am I correct?
Yes, that's right. But
it's... it's not just looks...
it... it goes deeper
than that, see.
GARNETT: I look
at her, I talk to her...
and it reminds me of
the way things used to be,
still could be...
if I hadn't loused them up.
Oh, please, Mr. Garnett,
you mustn't be too
hard for yourself.
Well, I'm to blame
for the divorce.
I'm not even gonna contest it.
Uh, perhaps it would be
best if you left the island today
and did not see this
young woman again.
Well, I thought of
that, too. But I can't.
I have to see her again.
Well, you have the reputation
for wisdom and understanding.
- Can you help me?
- I will try, Mr. Garnett.
I cannot promise you that
I will succeed, but um...
I will try.
Thank you.
What's bothering
you, Mr. Roarke?
What do you think, Mrs. Garnett?
So, you know I'm Hal's wife.
Oh, I knew that
before you arrived.
It is my business to know
everything about our guests.
Uh, please, have
a seat, won't you?
Then you must know how
much I'm enjoying myself.
It's a perfectly
wonderful fantasy.
Mrs. Garnett, your
fantasy was to be
the world's most desirable
woman for one weekend.
But to break his
heart, to punish him...
I should have never
granted your application.
Vengeance is not the
purpose of Fantasy Island.
Mr. Roarke...
do you remember what I looked
like when I arrived
here yesterday?
Not bad for a middle-aged
mother and wife...
who's been through so
much pain with that man.
All the years, he was
struggling to make it,
I held him when he cried.
I reassured him when
he was frightened.
Now back home,
when I look in the mirror,
I'm the one that's frightened.
Who will hold me, Mr. Roarke?
The divorce was your
idea, Mrs. Garnett.
A formality.
Actually, it'll only
be a half divorce.
I belonged to Hal, but
he never belonged to me.
I should have bought
stock in his magazine
and all of his other
business ventures.
I'd have gotten a bigger
piece of Hal Garnett's action.
You came here to get even...
and you are
succeeding, Mrs. Garnett.
Your husband is not just
shocked and confused.
He's seriously depressed.
Honestly?
Honestly.
I didn't realize Hal
was so sensitive.
Okay, what do I do to get
out of this fouled up fantasy?
Go back in the swimming pool?
Oh, you are a finalist
in the beauty contest.
If you were to disappear now,
it would cause a
great hue and cry.
There's no telling what effect
that might have on your husband.
It could totally
destroy him, you know.
Then I'll stay away from him.
I won't even talk to him.
I promise.
NATIVE CHOIR: See him there
The Zulu warrior
See him there
The Zulu chief,
chief Chief, chief
See him there
The Zulu warrior
See him there
The Zulu chief,
chief Chief, chief
I cuma zimba, zimba, zia
I cuma zimba, zimba, zee
I cuma zimba, zimba, zia
I cuma zimba, zimba, zee
See him there
The Zulu warrior
See him there
The Zulu chief,
chief Chief, chief
I cuma zimba, zimba, zia
I cuma zimba, zimba, zee
No, Petie. You must stay
here and care for the others.
In his absence, you are
the man of the house.
Hey, you're armed. That
makes things simpler.
I'm gonna make just
one try at this, Jed.
Turn around and walk away
with your hands showing...
and take the first plane out.
JED: Why would
I want to do that?
I don't want to k*ll you.
Mr. Roarke, make him
stop! Please, make him stop!
I'm sorry, Petie, I
cannot intervene.
Petie, look into my eyes.
The man you know as
Mr. John is a gentle, loving man.
But that was not always so.
Look at him, Petie.
Look closely at him.
[g*nshots IN DISTANCE]
Now do you understand?
It is as though the
man you just saw,
the... dedicated
leader of mercenaries,
died nine years ago.
The one you call Mr. John
must answer for what he did.
That's far enough.
Go home, Jed. Just go home.
[GROANS]
No!
[SOBS]
[DISCO MUSIC PLAYING]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
[♪♪♪♪♪]
Hal, sweetie, I'm
out of the contest.
- Eliminated.
- Oh, that's too bad.
Not really. No more
interviews, photo sessions.
I'm free to stay up late.
Maybe go to dinner,
if someone asks me.
Maybe someone will ask you.
I will, if you'll
do me the honor.
I'd love to.
I'm gonna win tonight,
right, Hal, honey?
Oh, uh, sure, baby. Sure.
Are you all right?
No, I'm not to her.
I gotta talk to her.
I told you real love
only happens to a man...
once in his life.
I was wrong.
No. Come on. Come on.
LIZ: You could have
any woman you want.
Don't make a fool
out of yourself, Hal.
Come on.
[BAND PLAYING MUSIC]
- Here you are.
- TATTOO: Thank you very much.
Ladies and gentlemen,
here are the final results.
The third-place winner is...
- Trish Rhodes.
- WOMAN: Oh, that's wonderful!
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
Third? You promised me I'd win!
[GARNETT YELPS]
Uh, I'm sorry. She seems
to be a little disappointed.
Uh, our second, uh, uh,
place winner is Carla Baines.
- Carla Baines!
- [AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
TATTOO: And therefore,
the winner is, Joanne Mercier.
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]
- Congratulations.
- MARSHA: Thank you.
Well, don't be so disappointed.
The runner up gets
a lot of little goodies.
Maybe a TV shot.
That's not what I came here for.
I wanted more. A
lot more. Excuse me.
What did you come here
for, Carla? Movie contract?
Your own cosmetics campaign?
Oh, Hal, what do you want?
You, Carla. I want you.
All those exquisite women.
Why me?
I know this is crazy.
I mean, we've...
we've just met, but I...
Somehow, I have a feeling
that with you I have a chance
to make a new start.
The way I did with my
wife a long time ago.
The one that I let slip away.
But, Carla...
I'm a lot wiser now.
I know we could make it work.
Even though, I am
a lot older than you.
Oh, hell, I feel like
I'm gonna break
into a chorus of September Song.
Oh, Hal...
if I said yes, what
would you do?
Would you, for instance...
take me to a little old hotel in
Cape Cod, where the owners
have been married for
years and still hold hands?
Would you take me
walking in the woods
and pick me a wildflower
that matches my eyes?
How did you know that?
How do you think, Prince Harold?
Prince?
No one ever called
me that but Marsha.
How could anyone else
know about those things?
This is impossible!
Oh, I've lost my
mind. I have. It's gone.
ROARKE: No, Mr. Garnett.
Amazing though, it may seem,
uh, this young lady is indeed
Mrs. Marsha Garnett, your wife.
She has quite
literally discovered
- the Fountain of Youth.
- [EXCLAIMS]
It's a miracle.
[CHUCKLES] Well, the
news isn't all that good, darling.
At midnight, I turn
back into a pumpkin.
Uh, what your wife
actually means, Mr. Garnett,
is that her fantasy to become
the most desirable woman
in the world is about to end.
And she's preparing
herself to become once again
a charming lady
approaching middle age.
Well, that's fine with me.
If I can just persuade
you to cancel that divorce.
[CHUCKLES]
So, persuade me.
ROARKE: Uh, however...
there is a... a slight
technical hitch, I might say.
Something's gone
wrong, Mr. Roarke?
Uh, well, that depends
upon your point of view.
It would seem that someone,
I'm not exactly certain who,
miscalculated.
I am afraid that the
effects of the fountain
will not wear off at the
close of this weekend,
as we all anticipated.
They won't? Well,
when will they?
Never. Your wife,
metabolically speaking,
will be years of age today.
But from this time forward,
she will age naturally.
- [LAUGHS] Oh, wonderful!
- Wonderful? What's so wonderful?
Listen, I'm not a kid
anymore and I am damn sick
of running around with kids!
Oh, I never was
all that active, Hal.
But maybe now I've got some
time to do some catching up.
Mr. Roarke, young studs
are gonna be chasing my wife
all over the place. How
am I ever gonna compete?
That's a good question.
What did you always call it?
Um, an occupational hazard?
Marsha, that's not fair.
Mr. Roarke, I am finally
ready to settle down and...
look at her.
ROARKE: It is indeed a pleasure
to do so and I certainly see
your problem, Mr. Garnett.
I suggest that from now
on you become an extremely
attentive husband.
[POLYNESIAN MUSIC PLAYING]
[ENGINE REVS]
We're, uh, very
grateful, Mr. Roarke.
I am delighted.
Even though, I didn't actually
get to be the world's most
desirable woman. [CHUCKLES]
Oh, but you are, Mrs.
Garnett. At least to one man.
Two men, Boss.
Mrs. Garnett, can I take
your picture, please?
Of course, Tattoo.
Well, your rather unexpected
reunion turned out successfully
-after all, huh? -Yes.
Instead of a divorce,
a second honeymoon.
- Oh?
- We're going on a world cruise.
Indeed.
And, uh, what about,
uh, Erotic Magazine,
your business empire?
I'm, uh...
selling the magazine to Mark.
He's younger. He has the energy
to deal with all those
occupational hazards.
I see.
- Goodbye, Mr. Roarke.
- Goodbye, Mr. Garnett.
- Goodbye, Mr. Roarke.
- Bye, Mrs. Garnett.
-Tattoo. -Bye-bye.
Bye, Tattoo.
- Boss, the picture!
- ROARKE: Yes?
Mrs. Garnett. She looks the
same as when she arrived.
To whom, Tattoo? To you?
To me? To the camera?
To the rest of the world?
However, one thing is certain,
Mrs. Garnett will forever remain
beautiful in the watchful eyes
of her adoring husband.
You're getting me confused.
Well, that's odd. It's
perfectly clear to me.
Nancy.
Thank you.
Let's go, Boss.
Not just yet, Tattoo.
We have to say goodbye
to another guest...
Major Doyle.
But he's dead. That man,
Mr. Keating, shot him.
He was only wounded, Tattoo.
You see, by a
strange coincidence,
the bridge railing broke
at the precise moment
that Mr. Keating opened
fire, thereby allowing the Major
to disappear from view
and swim downstream.
How come you
didn't tell me, Boss?
Because I promised
Mr. Doyle I would tell no one,
except you, now.
You see, Tattoo, Mr. Keating
flew home yesterday
believing his fantasy
had been fulfilled.
He came here to
sh**t the Mad Major
and he did, didn't he?
As a result, Mr. Doyle
has finally found peace,
because he's now believed
to be dead by all the enemies
who might otherwise pursue him.
Very clever. Very,
very clever, Boss.
[CAR APPROACHING]
Well, Major Doyle...
how do you feel?
Sad, Mr. Roarke.
Sad because I have
to leave Fantasy Island.
Why does the
Major have to leave?
Because, Tattoo, others will be
after me. Men like Jed Borrison.
Where will you go?
I'm sure somewhere
out there there's an island
where nobody knows Calvin Doyle.
Where we can make
another home and be together,
like a real family.
[SIGHS] Well,
goodbye, Mr. Roarke.
Goodbye. Fantasy Island
is sorry to lose such a good,
law-abiding citizen.
Thank you.
Goodbye, girls. Bye, Petie.