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The Stan-O-War was sailing through the water as the crew calmly milled about. It was a grey day but no wind blew harsh or rain fell. The crew moved as though it was a normal day. A short brunette and a tall blonde sparred in the same below-deck room as a redhead sharpening their axe. A fat fellow sat chatting with a long-haired brunette on the main deck as they watched the waves. Two nearly identical individuals stood by the wheel, looking out over their ship and the ocean.
“Say, Fordsy, what about we stop in the next town?” One with a scruffy beard asked the other. “I don’t see why not. I think Dipper said something about needing some more supplies anyways.” Replied the one with a cracked pair of glasses. Just as they were about to continue the conversation, they saw a ship in the distance. They yelled at their crew to be prepared and everyone came to the top deck. The closer the ship came, they realized it was old and sporting a tattered sail hung proudly flowing in the wind. The crew on board signaled to the Stan-O-War to stop.
“Hello! We have some letters and we were wondering if you could get them to land for us. We aren’t able to stop for them.” One of the crew yelled over. The co-captains looked at each other and took a moment before they called back, “Yes, of course! Just drop it and we’ll pick it up!” The other crew threw a barrel over the edge and the Stans were quick to fish it up with a net. When they looked up they saw that the ship had sailed out a ways away. Stan pulled out his spyglass and looked over at the ship. That’s when he saw it.
“There’s a storm coming! We have to get out of here! Let’s go!” He bolted for the wheel and rushed to get everything back on track. The winds grew stronger, rain pouring, and clouds almost black. “What about the other ship, Stanley?!” Ford yelled to his brother. “Leave her! That’s no ship, that’s the Flying Dutchman! We’ll die if we go back!” the crew paled and got to work on trying to make the Stan-O-War go faster. Thunder roared, shaking the ship among the rocking waves. Lightening flashed, lighting up the deck shiny with the rain and ocean. They could see the Dutchman approaching quickly and they were sure they were to die today. They feared it was the end.
Suddenly, there was a large wave that threw the ship so hard, that the crew had to cling on to what they could for they would be damned if they let go. The ocean and storm crashed against the ship with rage. Laughs rang out from the deck of the cursed ship, mocking the living crew. “C’mon, we gotta go! They’re hunting us, we’re outgunned, and rage fills their sails!” Stan yelled to his crew. “I see land!” Dipper yelled back. Everyone worked to try to go faster knowing it was only a race with time now. “Risk it all! Do what you must to get us there before the Dutchman!” Ford screamed to the crew. Salvation sat on the land in front of them, lest they lose their souls if they don’t make it.
Suddenly, it was as though the storm engulfed them, the Dutchman cutting their wind. The ship almost capsized. The crew watched their strong mast bend under the pressure, but they were almost there! The harbor was just in view. Everyone on the crew willed the Stan-O-War forward knowing what was at stake. Some whispered prayers, others just hoped. Finally, the ship broke into the harbor and everyone rejoiced. The air filled with the bitter screams of the Dutchman, the Devil lost his prey.
Once they had the boat in the harbor safely, they opened the barrel. There must’ve been hundreds of letters addressed to those who had long since died. The parchment was moldy and smelled of mildew. Bill collapsed into Dipper’s side, Wendy fell to the ground, Mabel on her knees, Soos slid down the side of the boat, and the Stans just stood there staring into the barrel. They almost died. But they didn’t. Soon they started laughing, the rest following close behind.