A/N:
Why did the dragons really raid Berk?

What's it like to be a powerful dragon thrown into a gladiator ring against… hapless children?

Is Sean Connery really the greatest dragon voice actor in all history?

How much meat would Meatlug lug if Meatlug could lug meat?

Most of these questions will be answered!

A midget on a giant's shoulder sees the farthest of the two. This is a story of the unsung heroes who enabled Hiccup and Toothless to pull off their crazy shenanigans in HTTYD.

Also, while this is my third story, why am I writing in first-person for the first time?

I… uhhh… I dunno.

Hope you enjoy!

On a side note, unlike Kronk, I have no formal education in speaking the language of the forest animals, so no dragonese. If you find this disappointing, all I have to say is, "Squeak squeakadee squeak squeaken." Ha! I either told you to deal with it or I just gave you my credit card number – I'm not sure which.

Oh, by the way, I'm planning to make the title for each chapter a little Easter egg hunt. If I pull it off right, you'll find some sort of subtle reference to a meme or pop culture tidbit from the past decade in each chapter and you'll say to yourself, "Man, FizzleMcSchnizzle has some wit." If I don't pull it off right, I'll look like an idiot. Huzzah!

Obligatory disclaimer:
Everyone says it, so I guess I'll say it too because I'd totally get my pants sued off of me if I don't – LOL! I don't own any dragons, Vikings, or any other stuff I use from the HTTYD movie. Dreamworks does. I do, however, own a pet troll, which I have been training to steal everyone's right sock.

Wedding Crashers

Whenever my nest receives a new arrival and asks what it's like here, I tell them all the same thing. It's a hop and a glide off Hopeless, but not so far you're freezing to death. It's located solidly in the fog of foreboding.

In a word: mountainous. The entire island is essentially one large, dormant volcano and has been here for as long as anyone can recall, but hasn't changed one bit. While we dragons aren't bothered by the weather – which ranges from "So cold you can see your breath" to "So cold you spit and ice clinks against the ground" – the warmth inside the mountain is nice. Outside, though, we have hunting, fishing, and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests.

It is a beautiful place, but the queen has commanded us to go hunt for her. I spread my wings and jump up into the air to join my fellow dragons. Yes, here is my nest... and there it goes. Tonight, we have to venture from the safety of our nest to visit these pests.

You see, most places have... wolves or... eels. We have land-striders. Land-striders are scaleless, thin-skinned, flammable vermin with four legs, but walk on only their hind legs. Some have long, straight shiny claws while others have broad, curved claws. Though they have only one or two claws, they can put a substantial amount of force behind a strike to break through the scales or even lop off a dragon's head. They are silly creatures and it is a wonder – and an inconvenience – that they can survive and proliferate in this cold, snowy scattering of islands.

Extremely dangerous, kill on sight.

Thankfully, they're not attacking us today. Granted, while they can manage to down some dragons, their definition of attacking our nest is to deliver themselves on nicely flammable hunks of wood, some sort of land-strider sea vessel.

See? Silly critters!

Even their nests are built from trees. We burn them down, then they build them again. One would think they would leave. One would think they could recognize futility when it's staring them in the face. One would think our charming dragon demeanor would give them a hint.

One would be gravely mistaken.

Since they stay, we have to deal with them. The queen is hungry and demands tribute, and though there are plenty of fish in the sea, she hungers for red meat. More specifically, she hungers for all the food that the selfish, greedy, evil land-striders all hoard to themselves. My task, along with many other dragons, is to claim that which the queen desires.

Tonight, our target is an island where the land-striders grow particularly large and hearty. The queen enjoys this breed the most. Not only do they have a lot of meat, but she finds the fat content to be quite desirable. For how ungainly these wingless rodents can appear, though, dragons have a tendency to die when trying to claim them as tribute for her. Still, we frequent this island because this tribute pleases the queen.

If the queen is satisfied, nothing else matters. She loves us. She protects us with her fog that disorients the land-striders when they come to attack us. She provides a warm habitation on her volcanic island, safe from the harsh elements, where we can lay eggs and raise our young. She gives us a sense of purpose and meaning in life that other dragons in far-off lands have never had the pleasure of experiencing. She cares for us and we would do anything to please her no matter the danger.

If dragons die trying to please her, it's their own fault. The weak die so they don't hinder the strong.

I am not among such weak dragons. Just as land-striders have different species with different sizes and types of shiny claws, we dragons can be loosely grouped, too. There are the little ones the land-striders call terrors that are terrible. Personally, I like to refer to them as mink dragons for how small, nimble, and aggressive they are. Another species looks like flying boulders, and when land-striders roar out such a dragon's name, it sounds like they're choking on their own tongues.

Another species has the unique feature of venomous quills lining the tail, which they can shoot with a quick flick. Like me, they have two powerful legs to grant mobility on land, but theirs are longer and more suited for sprinting long distances and hopping over downed trees and boulders. The land-striders call them deadly adders, but what similarities they have to a snake is beyond me. Also, how one could consider them deadly is a mystery unless one is small and weak. It must be some inside joke the little land-striders came up with.

Then, there's the most powerful sort of dragon. That would be me. The land-striders call me a nightmare that is monstrous. I'll admit I'm flattered to hear my visage inspires nightmares, but I'm not that monstrous, really. I mean, sure, there are smaller dragons, but there are plenty larger than me. Though still inferior, of course!

Since land-striders clearly don't know anything about my kind, perhaps I should come up with my own title. Something like… terribly deadly, beautiful, and unstoppable dragon that burns and kills as he pleases.

Yes, that's more appropriate.

Ah, here's the island coming up right now, an open expanse of rocky spires and ridges, sprawling forests, and patches of grassy fields. Just off the coast, two sea stacks are carved into the shape of a pair of land-striders, complete with fires lit in their mouths and some likeness of shiny claws. I think they're meant to intimidate us or something like that. I answered nature's call on top of one of those, once.

As for the island, with all the trickling streams, mountaintop lakes, and wildlife prancing through the forest, it would actually be a wonderful place for a dragon to nest. However, the queen forbids us from going out this far except for these brief raids. Bad things happen if we stray too far for too long.

The main attraction for tonight, though, is a cluster of wooden caves laid out on top of a network of rocky bluffs. It looks like we have the element of surprise. One can never be too cautious with these land-striders and their large, shiny claws.

Up ahead, invisible against the night sky, the black dragon circles the land-strider nest. He is the only one of his kind in our nest. Though his wings can stretch out almost as far as mine, he's smaller and lighter than me. Unlike my own sticky and slow-burning fire I glob out, his fire comes out as a blue ball that violently explodes on impact. Since we raid at night, he takes advantage of his dark scales to fly above the land-strider nest, undetected, and provide support without becoming directly involved. Even before we begin the raid, he can be handy for flying ahead to scout out the situation below.

Instead of giving us useful information, though, he starts sharing a memory of a land-strider ritual he just witnessed. Now, when I say the black dragon shares his memory, a being of lesser intelligence may not understand what I'm really implying. A dragon would never do something so asinine as to take the thoughts in his mind, figure out some arbitrary way to represent those thoughts in some sort of guttural cacophony that land-striders use when thinking with their lips, and then require others to figure out how to interpret those sounds and how they could possibly relate to the original thoughts.

No, we're not silly land-striders. When I say the black dragon shared his memory, I mean he literally did just that. Thoughts can be shared. They can be given, but never taken away.

I can see, through his eyes, a large group of land-striders gathered around a pile of burning sticks, jumping about, and warbling at each other. I hear the admittedly intriguing and rhythmical sounds produced when some of them hit round pieces of hide with sticks. I understand what he was able to piece together from the thoughts one land-strider was projecting to another... something about swimming the freezing sea, enduring the scorching heat of a hot sun, and offering great and mighty tributes to win the affection of another. The mate would then respond with a command to shut up and just mate with her.

It must be some strange ritual. Again, silly creatures – case in point! With a dragon, it's simple; when the season comes, I'd chase down a female I deem worthy, fight off the other males, and never take no for an answer. Land-striders, though… how can they even reproduce when mating is such an arduous and complicated process? Seriously!

The black dragon is actually quite proud of himself for piecing together what he did. When land-striders think with their lips, their projected thoughts are all scattered and disorganized – an outward projection of the chaos within. They are capable of projecting higher-level thoughts beyond the passive hum of primal emotions, but it all splashes around and often makes no sense. It requires a lot of concentration and a bit of luck to try to piece together the general gist.

{STOP DISTRACTING MY DRAGONS WITH SUCH MEANINGLESS NONSENSE AND BRING ME TRIBUTE!}

Yeah, you tell him, my beloved queen!

I can tell that was her projections because, just as every individual dragon has his or her own unique scent, so likewise with each projected thought. While most dragons cannot project their thoughts any farther than a growl can be heard, the queen is the exception. Well, the black dragon is, too, with his array of sensor lobes of various sizes all around the back of his head, each a corded web of nerves underneath a layer of hide and scales. This makes him very valuable to the queen, who uses him to extend the range at which we can hear her.

The black dragon projects his most sincere apologies for foolishly distracting us with such trifle things as land-strider mating rituals and starts to give us some actually useful information to help with our raid. Were he not the only one of his kind in our nest and were he not so useful to the queen, she would have eaten him long ago. He's often distracted by trivial things and, for some reason, thinks he is a powerful dragon.

I can't help but disagree with that last part.

Hey, look, you destroyed one of those weird land-strider trees that hurls rocks into the air. Great. I'm sure somebody is impressed!

By now, all the land-striders are alerted to our presence and running about, mating ritual forgotten, making fires and pushing them up into the air at the tip of some sort of tree that can extend up from the ground. I have bigger fish to catch and, by fish, I really mean land-striders. Unlike most other dragons, which avoid direct confrontation and snatch up the herd animals that the land-striders horde for themselves, I go for prey that actually fights back. Yes, only the most capable dragons – such as yours truly – actually hunt down land-striders.

Ha! Just like that one in the mouth of a wooden cave down there! I fold my wings and swoop down, flaring to a hover just short of the ground. I take a deep breath and let out a gout of fire at my hapless prey. Unfortunately, the critter finds something to hide behind.

Oh well, small loss. Literally, because that land-strider was all flesh and bones. I honestly doubt it even had any meat on its body. The queen wouldn't be satisfied with such worthless tribute that would only get stuck between her teeth, anyway.

As if to taunt me, only a moment after I take off in search of something with more meat, the little twig of a land-strider pops out of its cave and runs away from me. I decide to let it go. The little ones are always too quick and lean to be worth the chase, anyway. Let the mink dragons fight for worthless scraps.

Looking around I see some more prey, but none are good enough for me. I want to take some prey that will actually fight back. There's one, but it's too small. There's another, but it's too fat. Too injured... too many… Aha! Here's a good one- Oh, nevermind. Too dead. Argh! The world hates me!

C'mon! Gimme something to shoot at. Gimme something to shoot at...

Aha! Up ahead, there's a much better tribute. This breed of land-strider has a broad torso and particularly large front legs that end in a broad, shiny claw. It's still dead meat, but it looks like it can at least put up a fight. If it survives up until the queen eats it, she will be very pleased. She especially enjoys live land-striders.

Naturally, I start things off in my usual way. And what, one may ask, is my usual way of hunting prey? I'll put it this way.

Fire.

Fire EVERYWHERE!

I am on fire. The ground is on fire. The wooden nest I creep over jumps up into orange flames.

There is no better way to hunt than with an unnecessarily inordinate amount of fire! It's all just so… magnificent!

The land-strider sees me. I see it and strike a pose on top of the wooden cave – now a wooden pyre – as I bellow out a mighty roar. It is the sort of roar that inspires absolute terror and shakes the very ground. I've killed various animals with only my roar. The body convulses, jaw drops, eyes roll back, and the heart decides life is overrated. True story.

Unfortunately, my roar alone isn't enough, nor what must be a jaw-dropping sight of a dragon completely engulfed in flames. This land-strider must not recognize true power when it sees – or hears – it, so I launch into the sky and slam into the ground just behind it, ready to claim my tribute to the queen. Some of my burning fuel spatters on impact, adding even more orange illumination to my surroundings. By the egg that hatched me, fire just makes everything better!

My prey whirls around and brings up its shiny claw and a large, round carapace all species of land-striders seem to have. Its horns, though, actually look hilarious. It must be some sort of self-defense mechanism that grows on the head of a land-strider, but those horns look like they belong on a ram.

Rams are adorable little things that taste especially good with a light roasting.

Land-striders, on the other wing, taste absolutely terrible, but the queen likes them, so I square up against this one. It casts a furtive glance around and I see others closing in on our position. Great. More tributes.

Come to me, my prey. You can all come meet my queen. It's a one-way trip, so say your goodbyes while you can.

I rear back on my haunches as I take a large breath of air before leaning forward on my wings to shoot out a river of fire. My prey hides behind its round carapace, which burns to nothing. Already, I have the advantage. Without its carapace, the thing is about as tough as grass. I lunge and snap my teeth, but it jumps to the side. It tries to slash at me with its shiny claw, but I jerk my head back and it misses. I sense danger from my right and push off to the left, raising my right wing up to dodge a shiny claw from another land-strider.

The new prey's missed slash threw it off-balance, so I tuck my right wing under and roll over, swiping with my tail to knock its legs off the ground. This prey isn't the one I was initially trying to grab, but it'll do. It would be nice to bring back something a bit larger, but if wishes were fishes, the queen would be displeased.

With one, quick move, I wrap my jaw around its neck and shoulder and give my neck a hard twist. Fangs sink in deep and blood spurts out to add some very artistic crimson stripes to the black spots that already decorate my maroon scales. I take a moment to admire the improvements to an already immaculate sight.

Why thank you for that, little land-strider.

The best part of it, though, is that while the meat tastes terrible to my tongue, their blood... by my egg, their blood is always so delicious.

My prey convulses and then hangs limp – I think I crushed its entire torso – but before I can find clearance to take off, I'm forced to duck under a projectile, which ends up whizzing over my head. I need to drop this thing in my mouth for now, so I swing my head to toss it off the edge of the nearby cliff. It'll float in the water far below so I can collect it after dealing with these other prey. If it hits any rocks on the way down, that will only serve to tenderize the meat for my queen.

Freed from my burden, I take in the situation. Oh, just great! Now there are even more land-striders surrounding me.

Fine. Six against one? You still don't stand a chance, but at least you can die knowing you've made me work a little harder for my tribute.

Good job with that, I guess.

Fortunately, none of them are the Beast. That's what we call this one land-strider on this island that's particularly talented at killing dragons. They say that way back when it was but a little hatchling, it popped a dragon's head clean off his shoulders.

Do I believe it?

Off in the distance, I hear the agonizing bellows of a fellow nightmarish monster. The transition into a wet gurgle, followed by a loud crack leaves room to wonder what exactly happened to that unfortunate dragon, but there's no doubt it was painful and deadly. That was probably the Beast's handiwork and the large land-strider certainly isn't a hatchling anymore.

So, yes. Yes, I do.

The Beast is the ultimate prize. No dragon has ever taken it down. It will be my pleasure to take the honors.

Not tonight, of course... I'm not scared or anything. I'm busy!

Nearby, a deadly adder gives a screech and starts hissing at the land-striders surrounding me, clearly intent on claiming some of my tribute as her own. I let out an angry roar.

Oh no you don't, you greedy, arrogant, puffed-up, egotistical, haughty... Bah, I'll just tell her myself.

{Back off, Adder! I claim these land-striders as mine. If you get involved, you will be my tribute.}

Some dragons just don't get it. She thinks that just because she stopped a land-strider from poking me with its shiny claw in the previous raid, she has the right to take my tribute. If she thinks we're friends, then she's wrong, because a friend in need is a pest!

I adorned my projected threat with all the ire I felt and topped it with an image of her own dead carcass falling from my talons and into the awaiting maw of the queen. It wouldn't be the first time a dragon has done such a thing in this dragon-eat-dragon world.

Now that is how you deliver a threat. No mewling and warbling and grumbling for long periods of time like the land-striders often do. My projected message is vivid, to the point, leaves no room for doubt, and is delivered in the blink of an eye.

She got the message and must respect my superiority as she gave an indignant hiss and flaps off to find her own tribute. Such dragons usually go for things like sheep or yaks, after all. Hardly a moment after taking off, I see her join some other dragons of her kind to fight over some sheep, but they all get entangled in a web of vines and jumped by several land-striders. Ah, The old "vulnerable sheep trapped below a conspicuous ledge" trick. Some dragons have even less intelligence than a land-strider.

I snap my attention back to my prey. More have joined the pack and they are closing in on me. One makes a lunge and I jump out of the way. Something bites into my flank, but I ignore the pain as I duck under another projectile and snag a land-strider with the claws on the leading edge of my left wing.

Ha! You think my wings are only for flying? I can take you all with one wing pressed against my back. Come and get-

WHAM!

Ow! Oooow!

Remember when I said land-striders have only one or two claws? Well, some species have no claws at all. Instead they have a stone attached to the end of a stick. That species of land-striders always goes for the face.

Why the face?!

This one struck me along the jawline. I briefly flex my jaw. Good, still working. My species has a locked jaw, which is great for crunching down on land-striders with incredible force. However, they've learned that a hard-enough blow to the side of a nightmarish monster's head can dislocate his jaw, leaving it hanging askew so the poor dragon would be unable to breathe fire or bite down. It is a terrible fate but, I was spared, this time.

More land-striders continue to fill in around me.

Hey, there's no hurry. No need to all crowd in at once. Allow me to even the odds.

I take a deep gulp of air and lay out a large swathe of fire around me, effectively cutting off a majority of them. Smoke billows up, burning my nostrils in the most invigorating way. Waves of heat lap at my scales like a gentle caress. I close my inner, transparent eyelids and peer around through the smoke.

Ah, now this is more like it. It's amazing how a little fire can really liven up a dull fight.

The land-striders stumble backward, disoriented. A few are smoking or on fire. I send a few more to the ground with my tail as I whirl around to lunge at the one that must have hit me. It jumps back. I lunge again, but only get a mouthful of its round, wooden carapace. At the very same moment, I feel something sharp sink into the base of my tail.

I screech in indignation and whirl around on my new attacker. Sticking out of my leg is something I could never decide to be a claw or a quill. It's definitely something sharp at the end of a stick they thrust into dragons.

I wrap my teeth around it and pull it out, snapping it in half in my jaws. The widening of the land-strider's eyes, the slackening of its jaw, the sharp transition in its emotional hum from triumph to fear shows it is learning an important lesson on just how useless those shiny claws are on a dragon my size.

I rise up on my haunches and flutter my wings, swirling clouds of smoke around me, and roar angrily. My prey starts to back up in fear.

Yes, you should be scared, little land-strider. Little rodent. Little pest. You just secured your own demise.

Congratulations!

I take a deep breath and burn it to ashes.

… Or not. Hardly a splash of burning fuel comes out and, now that I'm paying attention to it, I can feel just how empty I am. When did the flames all over my body die down? Without any more fire left in me, my options have become more limited. The swathe of fire I had laid down earlier to limit how many could attack me is starting to die down and fade away.

The other land-striders appear to be encouraged by this. I spread my wings and roar at them.

You think I need fire to kill you all? Huh? Is that what you think? You think I am less deadly without fire?

I will tear your flesh to shreds! I will drink your blood! I will crush your skull!

My queen will feast on your broken bodies!

I lunge forward and wrap my teeth around the bottom part of a land-strider's leg. Instead of howling in pain and dying like a good land-strider, it just stares at me with amusement.

Wait, what?

Oh! The leg is made of wood. Hey, I remember you, land-strider. I bit off your leg before it was replaced with a stick. It was a fine addition to my tribute from several seasons ago. Give me your other leg!

WHAM!

Ow! Again! Really? Another stone-on-a-stick land-strider hits me hard right below the eye. Why do they always go for the face?

I twist around on my new attacker and lunge, but it just jumps out of the way like the little rodent it is. I lunge again. As I said, these annoying rodents are faster than they appear.

Off in the distance, the distinct screeching roar of the black dragon cuts through the air and all dragons look up at the disturbance. I can't see what happened to him, but there's pain in that roar for sure. His projections are filled with all sorts of panic and anguish. I can feel the queen's disappointment and contempt humming in my mind.

WHAM!

WHAM!

OW! Again, the face! Why the face?! Seriously! I get distracted for a single instant and they're all over me. My back flares up in pain as a shiny claw digs in. My right wing pops painfully as a land-strider twists it in an unnatural way.

WHAM!

Why did the stars all fall to the ground? They belong in the sky and they know it!

That's it! No more Mr. nice dragon! With a flick of my tail, I knock a couple down.

Ha! Eat dirt, little worms! Fall before your hunter!

I rear up on my legs and push off backward. A couple land-striders on top of me go flying off to the side. I can feel one has the misfortune of coming between my back and the ground. I roll off him and snap at another, but the little rodent just jumps out of the way.

WHAM!

Ow! My eye?! You're seriously going for my eyes?!

WHAM!

Alright, this is getting annoying.

You think you can defeat me?! You think you are better than me?!

I am fire! I am fury! You are my prey and I am your killer! I will not be defeated by such miserable little rodents!

I leap into the air and spread my wings. I need to distance myself from them and gather my wits before I strike again. Unfortunately, my right wing doesn't feel like functioning and I end up crashing back down to the ground. Whatever that one land-strider did to it... how could a creature so small cause damage so great?!

To top it all off, my legs refuse to straighten. I glance down to see some of those vines with stones wrapped around.

WHAM!

Before I could even pull my legs under me to stand, I take a blow to the head - again. Alright, I'll admit it. Things are not looking so good for me or some of my newly loosened teeth. Good thing they grow back.

WHAM!

Owww! Did the number of land-striders around me just double? Also, land-striders don't have wings. How are they all just floating around me?

This can't be it. This cannot be my end! My queen wants these creatures as tribute. She deserves no less.

She needs me!

I cannot allow them to kill me here. They are not my killers. They are prey. They are weak! I am strong!

I try to lunge out at one of them, but my legs can't even move.

You land-striders are absolutely the worst, most cruelly sadistic creatures that ever failed to fly.

WHAM!

A blow sends me crashing down on my side. The land-striders all swarm around me. With a deep breath, I make a final effort to shake myself free. I manage to wrap my teeth around one of them and am rewarded with a delightful shriek of agonizing pain from the little rodent, but there are so many.

I can't see straight. I can't think straight. Why are the stars swimming around on the ground? Somebody tell them to go back into the sky! They don't belong on the ground and they know it!

Stars, if you don't go back into the sky this instant, I will MAKE you go back!

Off in the distance of my mind, I can hear the queen calling all dragons back to the nest. She's angry at having lost the black dragon and wants to find him, but we cannot linger any longer. Bad things happen if we stay too long. The queen never wants bad things to happen to us. I can't join them, though. There are so many land-striders surrounding me and my right wing doesn't work and my legs are stuck.

I would be biting down on the land-strider in front of me, but such a simple task is surprisingly impossible when my head is pinned to the ground. Instead, I settle for an angry glare. It's just not the same!

Off to the side, A large form tumbles off a rocky ledge above me. Focusing real hard, I can recognize it to be my own kind. A nightmarish monster. He must be dead, judging by the lack of a head attached to his neck. If there's one thing I know about heads, it's that it's hard to live without them.

Alright, land-striders, you've made your point. You're scared. Understandable considering my imposing appearance. Maybe I was being a bit too greedy in trying to take you all with me. So, everyone, just back up and I'll take only a few of you. See? I'm not an unreasonable dragon.

Don't make me kill you all. I can't carry all of you back to my queen and she doesn't want us to waste meat. Just stop what you're doing and I'll let you go.

WHAM!

I try to get up, but just flop on the ground. Never before have I felt so helpless and humiliated. I can tell I'm all alone with these land-striders. Every dragon still able to fly is long gone. I should be with them, not stuck here with these stupid insects.

I only wanted to kill them all! Is that really too much to ask? How could this have happened to me?! I am stronger than them!

I am not weak!

WHAM!

I heave my head off the ground and give a deathly glare at the land-strider standing in front of me.

Let me just open my mouth and-

Curse you all, stupid, weak rodents! Even my jaw is entangled with your silly vines! Great. Just great. Now you'll have to kill yourselves since I can't do it for you. Thanks for making this really awkward. Does this make you happy?

I give you all permission to die a painful death and feed yourself to my queen.

Oh no! My queen! I have failed you. My queen, this isn't fair. Please help me! I don't want to be prey. I don't deserve this pain and humiliation.

I don't want to die!

My queen... I'm so sorry I cannot give you tribute tonight. My queen, you must be very disappointed in me. My queen…

Help!

Help me… please. I don't want to die!

I'm… scared.

A land-strider strides right up to my head and looks down at me with a smirk. They're all radiating contempt and pride at the accomplishment all twenty of them made. I curl back my lips and bear my fangs - still covered in the blood of my fallen foes. That certainly wiped away their gloating attitude.

Ha! I'll put you in your place you stupid, sadistic, despicable, miserable, scaleless, crawling-

WHAM!

A/N 2.0:
Now we see why, in the movie, during the raid, Gobber said, "Man the forge, Hiccup; they need ME out there."

This is my first story written in first-person. As you can tell, it's not meant to be a super duper serious read, but I hope you like it anyway.

Many thanks to Colorful Crayola over at Fanfiction for being my beta reader!

I even got my dad and brother involved in giving me their thoughts from the perspective of one who has never watched HTTYD.

Also, I'd like to thank you for checking out my story (and even reading through two author's notes). I know I ain't perfect, so if you feel the urge to point out something I did right or wrong or good or bad, please don't hesitate to PM or comment. There's a lot of talent in this wonderful community and I'd love to hear your thoughts about the story.

* No land-striders were harmed in the making of this story. The Monstrous Nightmare got a bloody nose, though.