Author's note: A drabble challenge on CW message board
Disclaimer: Don't own Mr. Kripke
[The ship lies at anchor in the harbour, fog bound. Cut to the Impala slowly emerging through the fog, it's fog lights on. An obviously dim, see-through sailor drifts across the deck of the ship, disappearing when the foghorn blows. The Impala comes to a halt and it's windows immediately fog up when Dean and Sam open the doors. "The Fog Ship, I presume?" Sam mutters under his breath.]
Kripke stopped reading the script, sighed, and looked at the young writer anxiously awaiting his reaction. "Listen, just because we have bought a fog maker…"