Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean.
Davy Jones. Just the mere mention of that name alone is enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest sailors. He was the infamous captain of the feared ghost ship, The Flying Dutchman.
But for all his fearsomeness, Jones did have a weakness. It was that he was only allowed to step on dry land once every ten years. This usually never bothered him. He'd been living that way for years. If Davy had had his way, he would have actually never stepped on land ever again. Being on land gave him too many painful memories of his lost love, Calypso. But one day, that all changed. Jones would have to go on land before he was supposed to. And he would overcome his obstacle in a very interesting way.
"Parlay?!" Jones roared as he angrily stomped through Lord Cutler Beckett's cabin on the Endeavour. "Them bloody pirates have called a parlay. Damn to the depths whatever fools thought of parlay."
"That would be the French", said Will Turner. "Or so according to Jack Sparrow. Anyway, you agreed to their terms, didn't you? And according to the code of the Brethren Court, you must go."
"I know 'tha code, boy", Davy shot back harshly. "I was once a pirate lord me self. But let me tell you something; no one ever really listens to the code. They're more like what 'ye might call "guidelines" than actual rules. I don't want to go. But seeing as I obviously have no choice in 'tha matter, I will. Though I won't like it. And I would've preferred if it were being held anywhere except on 'tha beach. Because 'ye know I can only go on land once every ten years, with my curse and all."
"Where would you prefer the parlay to be held?" asked Beckett.
"On 'tha Flying Dutchman, of course", said Jones.
"There's something I don't understand", said Will. "We all know you can't go on land but once every ten years. But what I would like to know is what exactly would happen if you went on land before that?" he asked.
"I would die a horrible, horrible, horrible death!" said Davy. His face was now just inches away from Will's. His tentacles were writhing. The young man reeled back in disgust. "My body would shrivel up, and I'd turn to dust," Jones continued. "And I don't think you'd like to see that happen, would ye, boy?" he asked.
"No, sir, I would not", said Will. "But that does give me an idea. If we can't get the pirates to come to the water, why don't we bring the water on land with us?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" both Jones and Beckett asked Will at the same time.
"Hold on", said Will. "I'll be right back. Then he rushed out of the cabin. Will returned several minutes later. In his arms, he held three rusted-looking, grime-covered old buckets. "These", Will said, grunting as he set the buckets down on the table, "I found down in the brig."
"And what do you plan to do with them?" asked Jones.
"I'm going to fill each of them with water, and make you stand in one of them on the beach during the parlay", said Will.
"That sounds like a stupid idea", said Beckett. "But it might just work. What do you say, Jones?" he asked.
"Won't this have any affect on my curse?" asked Jones.
"I figured out a loophole", said Will. "You may be going on land, but you still have water around you. So technically, this won't be breaking the rules of the curse."
"Alright", said Jones. "Ye got yourself a deal."
The journey to the beach took a lot longer than expected. This was because Jones and Beckett were arguing about who would row the boat. Will also attempted to fill up the buckets while the boat was in motion. He almost fell overboard many times. But finally, the three of them reached the beach. Will was the first one to go ashore. He carefully placed each of the buckets in the sand.
"I'm all set", he said. "Alright, Jones. Come on." Jones swallowed hard. He let out a slow, shuddering sigh. Then he took a step. He was careful to look where he was going, for fear that he would accidentally step in the sand.
"You did it!" Will cried happily. "One bucket down, two more to go. Now hurry up. We don't have all day." Jones took another step into the next bucket. And finally, he got to the last bucket.
"That wasn't so bad", said Jones. Something akin to a smile played across his lips. "Beckett, Turner, lets get this over with. Will and Beckett took their places next to Jones. A mischievous look suddenly appeared on Will's face.
I wonder what would happen if I threw some sand into the bucket while Jones isn't looking", he thought to himself.
"Don't even think about it, Turner", Jones told him sharply. Will looked at him, smiling innocently. He then turned away, sighing. Today was going to be a long day.