Heading back to town is
probably the safest bet. Once there, perhaps the local authorities will
be able to give you a hand with the rampaging celebrity you left on the
beach. Why, you could even call the police from the comfort of your
hotel room. Better still, you could call them from the bathroom in your
hotel and laugh about it when they come over to ask you some questions.
No wait, that might be a bad idea. There's no telling what kind of
bizarre laws are in effect here on Paradise Island. Heck, it's probably
illegal to leave the scene of a plane crash via toilet magic. Maybe
you'll just stick to calling the police from a pay phone.
After remembering (again) that you spent your last coinage on Fjornok,
you realize that you have no earthly way of knowing, which direction you
are going. Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be
growing. Are the fires of Hell a-glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing!?
These are all good questions, but you still can't quite sort your way
through the jungle foliage. Worse still, your footprints seem to
disappear soon after you leave them, so there's almost no chance of
retracing your footsteps back to Lynda Carter for a little friendly
advice. Well, there's no point in standing around here. One of the most
important rules of survival after being stranded in the wilderness is to
run like mad so that passing aircraft will see you flailing about like a
nitwit and know that you're lost. With that in mind, you take of running
and yelling.
After fifteen minutes or so of stumbling over roots and bouncing off of
tree trunks, you spot a group of tourists being led through the jungle
on a jungle… tour. Finally, you exclaim, a way out of this forsaken
wilderness. You're so relieved that you don't even bother to brush off
all the assorted braches and roughage you acquired during your spaz run.
You run up to the guide shouting, "take me with you!" The guide is
terrified, believing that you are the ghost of his former business
partner, come back from the dead to tell him that he'll be visited by
three ghosts that will teach him the true meaning of Christmas. He
refuses to go down without a fight, however, and he draws his machete
and hacks you to pieces, to the "oohs" and "ahs" of his tour group.
