“As much as I’d love to see how this Lord of the Flies reenactment would work out, the island’s not that far, and we have GPS.” He holds up a small, bright yellow device attached to the jet ski. “There should be no need to resort to cannibalism.” “Lord of the what?” I ask. Damon groans. “I take it back. I vote we kill off anyone who doesn’t understand that reference.” Everyone agrees. “What happened to no need to resort to cannibalism?” I exclaim. “Dire straits,” Damon says.
