I promised you all something big to pass the time during this two-week period without new Lost. And hopefully, I’ve delivered on said promise. Over the last week, I’ve been cooking up a little project with my wife, and it’s finally ready to roll out through the series of tubes that is the Internet. That project? Lost: the Musical! While the entire project is already in the can, I’ll be rolling it out over five days. Or, more specifically, five acts.

The premise is pretty simple: take well known songs across a variety of styles, formats, and eras, add Lost, and bloop: South by South Pacific. Each act corresponds to a complete season of the show. Today, Act 1 will kick things off, and I’ll post the subsequent four acts leading up until air time for “Namaste.” Big props to my wife Diana for bouncing ideas off of me and helping me workshop this labor of love. But mostly, I need to thank her for putting up with my singing while I tried to see if what I’d written actually worked. That girl is going to heaven.

Without further ado, I present Act 1 of South by South Pacific.

Act 1

We see the close-up of a man’s eye rapidly opening. We see his pupil dilate quickly as he struggles to figure out what has happened. The camera pans back to a man in a black Armani suit, lying in the jungle. Guitar and drums can be heard.

(To the tune of Jimi Hendrix’s “Fire”)

Jack: Alright, now check this
I wake up all alone, a doggie comes along
Barking fierce at me, I guess there’s something wrong
Get to the beach, the scene is really dire — Holy crap the plane’s on fire!

Holy crap, the plane’s on fire
Holy crap, the plane’s on fire
Holy crap, the plane’s on fire

Hey there bald guy, why wiggling your toes?
I’m gonna go help these, now you go help those
I can fix this, I will never tire

But holy crap, the plane’s on fire
Holy crap, the plane’s on fire
Holy crap, the plane’s on fire

Jack: OK, everyone. We survived a horrible plane crash on a mysterious Island. Not everyone survived, unfortunately.

Charlie: Not all, everybody!

Jack: Neither the time nor the place, wee little rock man. Look, when the sun rises tomorrow, let’s go find the cockpit. Who’s with me?

Kate: Don’t have to ask me twice!

(To the tune of Little Peggy March’s “I Will Follow Him”)

Kate: I will follow you
Follow you wherever you may go,
There isn’t a trip I won’t miss
Lest I have to go reminisce
About my toy plane…

I will follow you,
Staying still is something I can’t do
I’ll probably mess up your plan
But I’ve done this since the dawn of man
It’s deep in my veins…

Jack: This is ridiculous…it’s been nearly a week, we’re running out of food and water, and now I’m having visions of my dead father walking about. This makes no sense whatsoever!

Locke: Maybe you should stop thinking so scientifically, Jack.

Jack: And how would you propose I view things, Mr. Locke?

(To the tune of George Michael’s “Faith”)

Locke: Hey Jack!
I know your mind’s in disarray
You saw your father just today
And you think his suit was blue

But Dooooctor
Maybe we all were brought to here
For reasons that are yet unclear
I looked into Island’s eye, and what I say is true

Before this Island, I was a cripple
And now I do a soft shoe on the shore
So reconsider your science-based thoughts
When the answers aren’t so easy, you just need a little more

Cuz ya gotta have faith
Yes, I’m a man of faith
Jack you gotta have faith, faith, faith

Sawyer: That kumbaya stuff’s great, Obi Wan, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a bit of a pickle here. And faith ain’t gonna put food on the table or prevent boars from giving me the ol’ stink eye.

Boone: I’m God’s friggin’ gift to humanity, I know what to do.

Shannon: Whatever, just enter a tenuously hanging Nigerian plane already.

Jack: Everyone, calm down! This is getting us nowhere!

Sayid: Then what do you propose?

Jack: Just listen.

(To the tune of The Beatles’ “Come Together”)

Jack: We got a monster he come tearing up big trees
We got little water people getting’ all thirsty
We got caves nearby with aqua to spare
Shoulda had my Daddy but the coffin was bare

You’re starting in-fights, wanna crucify poor Boone
It’s been nearly a week now and there’s no sign of rescue
If we hope to live another week
Listen to the words here now that I’m gonna speak.

Live together
Or die alone
Here with me.

Michael: Sun, I can’t believe you haven’t told your husband that you speak English. I also can’t believe our interactions this season will be forgotten by the writers in subsequent seasons, but that’s beside the point. Why haven’t you told him the truth?

Sun: Well, I can only think of one way to put it.

(To the tune of Neil Diamond’s “America.”)

Sun: Sweet
He used to be sweet
Without a care in the world
But then I started to cheat

Oh his name was Jae Lee
We’d cuddle close
But then he fell to the street

I’m a daughter of the mob
Thus, I go to America!
Dad makes my husband kill and rob
Thus, I go to America!

Michael: Well, when you put it that way. Hey, what’s all that commotion over there?

Charlie: Sayid went psycho, man. Did a number on ol’ Sawyer. Not that I’m a fan of the guy, but Lord, that was a bit much. So Sayid’s gone off to find himself or some such nonsense. Fine by mine. It’s not like anything can happen to him while he’s away.

(To the tune of Little Shop of Horror’s “Suddenly Seymour”)

Danielle: Haven’t seen a soul
Could only hear whispers
Montand died early
Man, that was whack

Dear ol’ Robert
Well, he caught the sickness
Tried to gun me down
So I shot right back

But suddenly Sayid
Is strapped down beside me
He might be an Other
But still this sure rocks

Suddenly Sayid
Is here to repair me
My favorite item:
Robert’s music box.

Sayid: OK, torture debt paid in full. Back to camp I go. I wonder if Claire’s given birth yet. Should be any day now.

Claire: Not yet, but hopefully soon. I’m having the weirdest dreams lately.

(To the tune of The Supremes’ “Baby Love.”)

Claire: Ooh baybee son, my baybee son
This psychic said I’m the only one
To raise you as my own
But I’m here all alone
Your daddy up and left
Now I’m feeling all bereft

‘Cause baybee son, my baybee son
Now Malkin seems to be balkin’
Since the time that we last spoke
He went and found “good” folk
We were going on our way
Across the Pacific to L.A.
Now we’re on this Island ooh
Baybee son, ooh, baybee son

Jack: I’m a reasonable man, but that girl’s delusions are getting a bit much. Anybody seen my sedatives?

Hurley: Dude, no time…you’re never gonna believe this! One of us wasn’t on the plane!

(To the tune of Pearl Jam’s “Even Flow.”)

Hurley: Heeeeey Jack
I was doing what I told you, I made this census
Oh yea
And oooooh dude
You are gonna freak when you hear what I have to say
Uh huh
Cuz that weeeeird guy
Thought his name was Lance, but it turns out that it’s Ethan
(Not Lance)
Well gueeeeesssss what? The manifest don’t have a guy that goes by that name
No no!

Ooooh Ethan Roooom
He was not on 815
And now we knooooow
He never had to put up his traaaaay
Oh, we should gooooo
And gather a search party now
Because he took
Charlie and Claire awaaaaaay

Locke: Well, we’re not the only ones on this Island. Everyone believe me now?

Michael: No kidding. That’s why I’m building this raft to get us rescued.

Locke: You mean that thing over there totally on fire?

Michael: What? NO! Who would do such a thing?

(To the tune of Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House.”)

Walt: Awww…
Hey Dad
Where you been all my childhood?
Think that
Time here would make things all good?
Burning down the raft!

Now while here on these crazy shores sometimes I throw some daggers with
One John Locke, see he’s my friend
He knows I’m special, why can’t you? Why the heck you wanna leave?
That’s real tough to comprehend!

Jack: OK, well, we’ve lost Boone, gained Aaron, and most importantly, got through the night without anyone singing “Circle of Life.” Now that the raft’s rebuilt, Michael can find us rescue while I check on Locke’s new metallic obsession. Good luck, Michael.

Michael: A blip! A blip on the screen! Rescue has actually come! I can’t believe it! Here’s the rescue vessel now!

(To the tune of Guns ‘n’ Roses’ “Sweet Child o’ Mine.”)

Michael: He’s got a beard that seems to me
Reminds me of Gorton’s fishery
But hey, I can’t complain, we’ve found rescue

Now up close I can get the sense
That lighting that flare didn’t make much sense
And all our hope and dreams have gone askew

WAAAAAAAAAAAAALT lost child o’ mine
WAAAAAAAAAAAAALT lost child o’ mine

Coming soon: Act 2!

Ryan also posts every 108 minutes over at Boob Tube Dude. He invites you to join the hundreds already in Zap2It’s Guide to Lost Facebook group. He also encourages you to subscribe to the Zap2It’s Guide to Lost Twitter feed.

Posted by:Ryan McGee