Isaac Letchford Reads "How To Be a Pirate": Chapter 1

G'day, I am reading How to Be a Pirate by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. It is translated from the Old Norse by Chrysandra Coswell. A note from the translator: in the summer of 2002, a boy digging on a beach found a box that contained the following papers. They are the second— they are the lost second volume Of memories of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the famous Viking hero, dragon whisperer, and top sword fighter. They tell the story of how he acquired his famous sword, his first meeting with his archenemy, the most high and murderous chief of the outcasts, and the terrible secret of the treasure of Grimbeard The Ghastly. Chapter 1: Sword Fighting at Sea, Beginners Only. Thor was seriously annoyed. He had sent a mighty summer storm to claw up the seas around the bleak little island of Berk. A black wind was shriveling across the wild and angry ocean, Furious thunder boomed overhead. Lightning speared into the water. Only a madman would think it was the kind of weather for a pleasant sail. But amazingly, there was one ship being hurled violently from wave to wave, the hungry ocean chewing at her sides, hoping to tip her over and swallow the souls aboard. and grind their bones into sand. The madman in charge of this ship was Gubba the Belch. Gubba ran the pirate training program on the island of Berk, and this crazy voyage was in fact one of Gubba's lessons. Sword fighting at sea, beginners only. Okay, you drippy lot! yelled Gubba, a 6-and-a-half-foot hairy muscle-bound lunatic With a beard like a ferret having a fit and biceps the size of your head. Put your backs into it, for Thor's sake! You're not an ickle pretty jellyfish! Hiccup! You're rowing like an 8-year-old! The fat bit of the oar goes into the water! We haven't got all year to get there! Etc., etc. Hiccup, Horrendous Haddock III, Gritted his teeth as a big wave came screaming over the side of it and hit him full in the face. Hiccup is, in fact, the hero of the story. Although you would never have guessed this to look at him. He was on the small side and had a sort of face that was almost entirely unmemorable. There were 12 other boys struggling with the oars of the ship. Practically all of them looked more like Viking heroes than Hiccup did. Warthog, for instance, was only 11, but he already had a fine crop of bubbling adolescent pimples and a personal odor problem. Dog's Breath could throw as hard as anyone else with one hand while picking his nose with the other. Snotlout was a natural leader. Clueless had ear hair. Hiccup was absolutely average. The kind of unremarkable, skinny, freckled boy who was easy to overlook in a crowd. Beneath the rowing benches, 13 dragons were huddled, one for each boy. The dragon belonging to Hiccup was much, much smaller than the others. His name was Toothless, an emerald-green common or garden dragon with enormous eyes and a sulky expression. He was whining to Hiccup in Dragonese. These Vikings are crazy! Toothless got salt in his wings! Toothless sitting in a big cold puddle! Toothless hungry! Feed me! He tugged at Hiccup's pants. Toothless needs food now! Side note, Dragonese was a native tongue of the dragons. I have translated it into English. For the benefit of those readers whose Dragonese is a bit rusty. Only Hiccup could understand this fascinating language. I'm sorry, Toothless, Hiccup winced as the boat plunged manically downwards— maniacally downwards on the back of another monstrous wave. But now is not a good moment. Thor only knows, yelled Gobber, how your useless lot got initiated into the tribe of the Hairy Hooligans. But you now face 4 tough years on the Pirate Pro Training Program before you can truly call yourselves Vikings! Oh great, thought Hiccup gloomily. We will begin with the most important Viking skill of all: sword fighting at sea! Gobba grinned. The rules of pirate sword fighting are... There are no rules! In this lesson, biting, gouging, scratching, and anything else particularly nasty all gets you extra points. The first boy to call out, I submit, shall be the loser. Or we all drown, muttered Hiccup. Whichever is sooner. Now! shouted Gobber. I nominate Dugsbreath the Dubbering. Who's going to fight him? Dogsbreath the Duhbrain grunted happily at the thought of spilling blood. Dogsbreath was a mindless thug of a boy with hairy knuckles that practically grazed the ground as he walked, and mean little eyes and a big ring in his flared nostrils made him look like a bristly boar with a bad character. Who shall fight Dogsbreath? Repeated Gobba the Belch. 10 of the boys stuck their hands up and cried— 10 of the boys stuck their hands up with cries of, Pussa, missa, plissa, cheese pizza! Wildly excited at the thought of being smooched, smushed into a pulp by Dog Breath the Dubbrain. This was predictable. That was— that's what most hooligans were like. But what was more surprising was that Hiccup also leapt to his feet shouting, I nominate myself! Hiccup Horrendous the Third Haddock the Third! This was unusual because while Hiccup was the only son of Cheekstocked the Vast, he was not what you might call naturally sporty. He was nearly as bad as— he was nearly as bad at brashyball, thugger, and all the other violent Viking Games as his best friend Fishlegs. And Fishlegs had a squint, a limp, numerous allergies, and no coordination whatsoever. What's gotten into you? whispered Fishlegs. Sit down, you lunatic. He'll murder you. Don't worry, Fishlegs, said Hiccup. I know what I'm doing. Okay, Hiccup! boomed Gubba in surprise. Get up here, boy, and show us what you're made of! If I'm ever going to be chief of the tribe, whispered Hiccup to Fishlegs as he started taking off his jacket and buckling on his sword, I'm going to have to be a hero or something. Trust me, said Fishlegs. This is not your thing. Clever at eyes, yes. Talking to dragons, yes. But one-on-one combat with a brute like Dugsworth? Absolutely no, no, no. Hiccup ignored him. The horrendous Haddock's have always been a gift— have always had a gift for sword fighting. I reckon it's in the blood. Look at my great-great-grandfather, Grimsbeard the Ghastly. Best sword fighter ever. Yes, but you have— yes, but have you ever done any sword fighting before? asked Fishlegs. Well, no, admitted Hiccup. But I've read books on it. I know all the moves. The Piercing Lunge, the Destroyer's Defense, Ginspeed Grapple. And I've got this great new sword. This sword was indeed an excellent one. This sword was indeed an excellent one. A Swiftpoint Scarmaker with Go Faster stripes And a handle shaped like a hammerhead shark. Besides, said Hiccup, I'm never going to be in actual danger. The pirates-in-training practiced with wooden cases on their swords. Mollycoddling! We never did that in my day! was Grubber's opinion. However, it did mean the Hooligan Tribe ended up with more live pirates. Okay, you madman, but if you have to do this, keep looking into his eyes, keep your sword up at all times, and say a big prayer to Thor the Thunderer because you're gonna need all the help you can get.