How to Twist a Dragon's Tale (Hiccup)
gorgeous contrast to the scene of smoky devastation going on behind them.
    Humungously Hotshot got up to go. He shook Stoick warmly by the hand. "I must say," said Humungous, "I think the clever thing to do would be to get out of here as fast as is humanly possible. But I have got to admire your suicidal bravery, mad and completely pointless as it is. Good luck, everybody!"
    "Won't you stay and fight with us?" pressed Stoick the Vast. "A great Hero like yourself would be a tremendous help."
    "Well, I think now I'm more of an Ex-Hero," repeated Humungous. "I'm just a Sword-for-Hire. No, I've had it with lost causes. It's all about ME, ME, ME from now on. But I do just have one last thing to do before I shoot off as far away from this doomed Archipelago as I can get. Could you possibly point me in the direction of the little Island of Berk?"
    Stoick the Vast's face broke into a broad grin.
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    "But my dear Humungous!" he exclaimed. "This IS the Isle of Berk!"
    Humungously Hotshot's jaw dropped.
    "No!" he said. "Then you must be... you must be ..."
    "Chief Stoick the Vast!" cried Stoick the Vast.
    "Really?" gasped Humungous, very politely NOT asking the question, And do you ALWAYS prance around the mountainside dressed only in knickers and one blue sock?
    "And this is your son?" Humungous pointed at Hiccup.
    "HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK THE THIRD!" roared Stoick the Vast proudly.
    Humungous seemed to find this difficult to take in.
    "THIS is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third?"
    Humungous turned to Stoick. "You know, Stoick, I've changed my mind. I think I will hang around here for a while, after all."
    "Wonderful!" boomed Stoick. "I think you said your new profession was a Sword-for-Hire?"
    "That's right," said Humungous.
    "Well, I've been looking," said Stoick thoughtfully, "for a Bardiguard for my son, Hiccup.
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    [Image: A man]
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    You should be good at Bardiguarding, having once been a Hero."
    A Bardiguard was a bodyguard for the Heir to a Viking Chief.
    Like a Hero, you were expected to be more than just a magnificent Warrior.
    You had to be a complete all-rounder, good-looking, musical, handy on the harp, and just as good with the spear as you were with the axe. And you had to be a great teacher as well, because you were supposed to be instructing the young Heir in all these skills.
    "How's your weapon-work?" asked Stoick.
    For answer, Humungous drew his axe from his belt so quickly and so gracefully that Stoick didn't even see his hands move. He threw it sizzling through the air in such a way that it cut off one of Nobber Nobrains's plaits and then boomeranged back into Humungous's hand again, where he twiddled it twice around his wrist, balanced it for a moment on his elbow, and somersaulted it back into his belt again.
    The Hooligans oooohed with pleasure. There was nothing they enjoyed more than really good weapon-work. "WOW!" gasped Stoick.
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    This man was cooler than a cat twirling his whiskers on a freshly frozen iceberg.
    "Oh, that was nothing," said Humungous, sighing. "In my younger days I could have done it with my eyes shut."
    "DON'T TRY IT," growled Nobber Nobrains warningly.
    "And I presume you're as good with everything else?" asked Stoick.
    For answer, Humungous drew out his bow and arrow.
    "You see that boy with the skull tattoos?"
    Humungous pointed out Snotlout, who was standing some distance away chatting with Dogsbreath the Duhbrain and picking his nose. Humungous let fly his arrow, and Snotlout fell backward with a short cry.
    "My son!" exclaimed Baggybum the Beerbelly.
    Humungous held up a humungous yet elegant hand.
    "There is absolutely no cause for alarm, my dear sir. I think you will find that your son is completely unharmed. I have simply removed the booger from his nostril."
    It was so. It had all happened so quickly, Snotlout
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    just assumed he had been stung by a wasp, and went on talking to Dogsbreath, his nose booger-free.
    "But that's impossible!" stammered Stoick.
    "Child's play,"

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