after a shipwreck, the survivors drift onto the beaches of a desert island. the island appears to be a veritable paradise. there's a white sand beach, clear water, blue skies, coconut groves, fresh seafood, and a rope hammock already set up. but there is an ominous pounding of drums in the background, coming from over the horizon. the threat of warlike natives and the ominous drums leave everyone nervous, despite the islands natural beauty.
after a day or two, one of the natives wanders out from behind the nearest coconut grove. the shipwrecked survivors are scared at first, but the man turns out to be quite friendly and speaks english. he assures them that the island will provide for all their needs and that his tribe is quite friendly. except for one thing 'you'll be fine as long as the drums keep playing,' he warns. 'but if the drums stop, terrible things will happen.'
'if the drums stop, beware.'
this makes the castaways nervous. but seeing as the drums have been steadily pounding for the last couple days, their nervousness abates.
in another day, the castaways have figured out how to fish and distill water. the weather is good, and the drums keep playing in the background as they begin to settle in.
another day later, they've built shelter and are quite enjoying themselves as the drums pound steadily in the background.
the following day, the castaways have totally settled in and are enjoying a game of beach vollyball when suddenly the drums stop. everyone looks around nervously. its dead silent. all of a sudden, there's a violent rustling in the conconut grove, and native who originally welcomed them comes running out. he's flailing his arms in the air and screaming, and looks utterly panic stricken. as he runs towards the castaways, they are able to make out what he's yelling
'aaaaaaaaaagh!!! bass solo!!!'
