Note: Fantasy Island was a TV show from '78 to '84
and from '98 to '99. It was based on
Shakespeare's The Tempest and was owned by ABC.
It was a dark and stormy
Petunia Dursley was walking in the pouring rain,
angry at the world. 'Damn rainstorm,'
she thought. She was in a particularly
nasty mood today because her son Dudley had to be sent to a summer camp.
a requirement," the nurse said.
"Your son must receive exercise, nourishment, and more regular
quantities of food. Camp Fish-Eye Bottom
is just the place."
scowled at the April shower, angry that she hadn't brought an umbrella. She didn't want her son to go to camp. For all she knew, Camp Fish-Eye Bottom (what
kind a name for a camp was that, anyway?) was really a military camp, or slave
her head. Such ideas were
like being stuck out in the rain without an umbrella', she reflected, and
ducked into the closest little shop.
The only two people were an elderly man and an
Asian woman, both of whom were sitting at desks. "Please forgive me," Petunia
mumbled. "I just wanted to dry off
on in, close the door," the man said warmly. "The more the merrier, you know."
gratefully closed the door. She happened
to turn her back at that precise moment, otherwise she would have been very
surprised to see that the rain stopped and the sun came out.
looked at her intently, and said, "You want to get away, don't you?"
your pardon?" Petunia said, looking up.
She had only wanted to dry off.
feel trapped," the man said.
"There is something hanging over you; a dark cloud, and you want it
to go away forever, but it is your doom, the bane of your existence…"
looked at the woman behind him, who gave her a look that said, "Yes, he
does do that all the time."
tell you what," the man went on, "how would you like to go on a
little vacation? I've got a ticket for
you to go to a little place called Fantasy
Island. It's in the tropics, it's gorgeous, there's a
wonderful little hotel -- you'll love it there."
thought about it. An island vacation
while Vernon was on a business trip
and Dudley was at camp, would
be the perfect little getaway. And Harry
could be with those -- what was their name -- Weasel, no, Weasley family, so it
wasn't a bad idea at all. "I'll
take it," she said slowly.
and Mr. Morrison (as he called himself) had sorted out the technical stuff,
Petunia took up her coat to leave. Only
then did she notice that the rain had stopped.
Feeling significantly lighter, she opened the door again, and as though
waiting for its cue, the rain started pouring again. Puzzled, Petunia closed the door; the rain
stopped. She opened it; it started. Open, shut. Rain, shine. She looked at Mr. Morrison, and asked,
"Is something going on?"
grinned. "You tell me," he