8 The Frightening Foreigners Lesson

8. THE FRIGHTENING FOREIGNERS LESSON It was a glorious, blue, breezy day but Hiccup had no time to admire it. He ran as fast as he could towards the Great Hall where the Frightening Foreigners

lesson was being held. Gobber hadn't arrived yet, so the young barbarians were making a gigantic racket. Sharpknife and Tuffnut Junior were having a swordfight in one corner. The boys' dragons were lying in front of the gigantic fire, snapping and snarling at each other. Snotlout and Dogsbreath the Duhbrain were sitting on Fishlegs while Fireworm set fire to a pile of Fishlegs's workbooks. 'Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you brainless brutes?' snapped Hiccup at the bullies, putting out the fire with his jacket. 'Thanks, Hiccup,' panted Fishlegs. 'Well, well, well,' drawled Snotlout, removing his knee from Fishlegs's stomach and sauntering over to where Hiccup was sitting. 'Some Vikings you two are! I hear you couldn't even tell the difference between a Peaceable fishing boat and a seventy-metre Roman ship, and you have got to be the first pirates EVER to sink their own boat…' 'Har har har har,' laughed all the other boys. 'And most pathetic of all,' jeered Snotlout, 'you lost your ridiculous fangless microbe of a dragon.' 'Some loss,' sneered Fireworm, sharpening her

claws on Hiccup's helmet with an acutely unpleasant scritching noise. 'That creature was a disgrace to us green-blooded FireBrothers of the Snake.' 'Toothless was a fine, fine dragon,' said Hiccup quietly, trying to keep his temper. 'He was a HOPELESS dragon,' mocked Snotlout. 'Never mind, Hiccup. He'll make a much better Roman handbag—' 'YOU TAKE THAT BACK, YOU SNOT-FACED, SNOT-NOSED, ELEPHANT-NOSTRILLED, BOTTOM-BRAINED BULLY!' yelled Hiccup. The door opened with a gigantic crash. 'Excellent Advanced Rudery, Hiccup!' roared Gobber the Belch. 'We'll make a Viking of you yet!' 'I hope you don't mind, sir,' spat Snotlout, advancing on Hiccup with his fists raised and a nasty look in his eye, 'if I just kill him for that one…' 'But I do mind,' said Gobber. 'This is a Frightening Foreigners lesson, not a free-for-all – SIDDOWN NOW YOU 'ORRIBLE LITTLE EXCUSES FOR VIKINGS!' The boys scrambled for their places on the floor at Gobber's feet. Even Snotlout knew better than to

disobey Gobber, and he sat down too, muttering darkly to Hiccup that he would get him later. 'This lesson is all about Taking Money with Menaces,' yelled Gobber. 'HICCUP! WARTIHOG! Stand up here in the front. Hiccup, I want you to be the Hooligan Invader and Wartihog to be the simple Gaulish farmer. What Terrifying Techniques can you use to get Wartihog's belongings?' Hiccup got to his feet, but he wasn't really concentrating. 'Excusez-moi, mon brave,' said Hiccup absent-mindedly. 'Mais pouvez-vous me donner votre—' Wartihog bashed him. 'OH FOR THOR'S SAKE, HICCUP!' exploded Gobber bateily. 'I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID A MOMENT AGO! HAVE I TAUGHT YOU NOTHING? VIKINGS DON'T TALK IN SILLY FOREIGN LANGUAGES, THEY YELL, HICCUP, YELL!' Gobber controlled himself with an effort. 'Sit down, Hiccup. Snotlout, show PATHETIC Hiccup how to perform this perfectly simple exercise.' Two seconds later, to great cheers of 'BRAVO!' from Gobber and the rest of the class, Snotlout had

Wartihog in a Baggybum Bearhug and was removing not only his money but also his helmet, jacket and trousers. Gobber put his hands on his hips, threw back his huge hairy head until the horns on his helmet touched the wall behind him, and shouted with laughter. 'YOU SEE, HICCUP?' he bellowed in between great guffaws. 'THAT'S HOW TO FRIGHTEN A FOREIGN—' The door flew open. Two enormous, masked Kidnappers crashed into the room with yells that froze the blood and made the hairs on Hiccup's head stand up like the spines on a sea-urchin. They were dressed in traditional Bog-Burglar costume but it was obvious to Hiccup that this was a couple of Roman soldiers in not a very good disguise. For starters Bog-Burglar soldiers were always women. But these were clearly big hairy muscly men in dresses with pigs' bladders stuffed down their blouses instead of bosoms. The First Kidnapper was holding a couple of double-headed axes the size of dinner plates and he threw one of these as hard as he could in Gobber's

direction. The axe flew through the air, missed Gobber's head by a hair's-breadth, and pinned him to the wall by his beard. 'AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' gurgled Gobber, unable to move and gazing at the shining blade less than a centimetre from his nose. 'HE WHO IS MOVING, PLEASE, LOSES ZE HEAD, AND ZE DRAGONS ALSO,' yelled the First Kidnapper, speaking very badly in Norse* and swinging the other axe round his head. Not a boy or a dragon moved. 'Okey-dokey, please,' continued the First Kidnapper in a quieter voice. 'Give us what we is wantings and nobody she gets hurt. Which one of you lots is being the Heir to the Hairy Hooligans?' Everyone was silent. 'No make me get cross, please…' warned the First Kidnapper. 'You no like her when she is cross,' said the second one, fingering his axe lovingly. 'Just tell me… WHO IS BEING THE HEIR TO THE HAIRY HOOLIGANS?'