In this chapter of the children's pirate adventure, Hiccup, Fishlegs, and the Hooligan Village gather around a mysterious coffin marked “Do Not Open.” Despite warnings from the elder Old Wrinkly, the tribe, led by the boisterous Stoick the Vast, decides to open it, hoping to find the lost treasure of the infamous pirate Grimbeard the Ghastly. When the coffin is opened, a decaying corpse appears, but it soon revives, revealing a green‑eyed, seawater‑soaked man named Alvin, a “poor but honest farmer.” Alvin’s sudden emergence causes panic, chaos, and comedic reactions among the villagers, while Stoick hides under the table and Old Wrinkly remains calm. The scene blends humor, suspense, and a lesson about heeding warnings, showcasing the characters’ personalities—Stoick’s bravado, Hiccup’s nervous caution, and Old Wrinkly’s wisdom—while delivering a playful, adventure‑filled narrative.
Chapters
A coffin that says Do Not Open on the front. As soon as they got to Hooligan Village, Hiccup and Fishlegs changed into dry-ish clothes. Berk was one of those damp places where clothes never really dried. They became warm and wet rather than cold and wet. They hurried as quickly as they could towards the Great Hall. By the time they got there, Stoick had called a big meeting of everyone, and the Great Hall was already packed to bursting, with great hairy hooligans jostling each other for a good view of the coffin, which had been placed on a table in front of the fire. Bit by bit, Hiccup and Fishlegs managed to wriggle their way through the crowd to the front. Ah, Hiccup! There you are! said Hiccup's father Stoick the Vast absentmindedly as he consulted with the other elders in front of the coven. Stoick was a terrifying redhead bull of a man whose belly turned a corner a good foot or two before the rest of him. Interesting find you've made here, my boy, said Stoick, ruffling his son's hair proudly. The lost treasure of Grimbeard the Ghastly, hey? Yes, Father, but— We're just about to open it! But— What I'm trying to say is— interrupted Old Wrinkly, the cleverest and most ancient elder of the Hooligan tribe. It is written quite clearly on the top, do not open this coffin. Cursed be who disturbs the remains of Grimbeard the Ghastly. The greatest pirate ever struck terror in the Inner Isles. In my considerable experience, it is always not a— it is always a good idea not to open a coffin that says do not open on the front. I agree, said Hiccup nervously. Grimbeard the Ghastly was a nasty piece of work. Anyone who opens the coffin could be in for a horrible shock. Rubbish! scoffed Stoick the Vast. A warning like that to put off grave robbers should not stay the hand of fearsome Vikings like ourselves. Shall we, who laugh in the face of death and spit in the eye of the great typhoon, quail at a simple curse? To scare infants and old men? Cries of no and not likely, Governor! All in favor of opening up the box and seeing whether the lost treasure of Grimbaud the Ghastly is inside, say aye! Aye! bellowed out of every member of the Hooligan Tribe except Fishlegs, Old Wrinkly, and Hiccup. Run for your lives! yelped Toothless and hid in Hiccup's shirt. Fishlegs edged backwards into the crowd. Not a good idea, not a good idea, not a good idea, muttered Hiccup. He started backing away from the coffin as Stoick fiddled clumsily with the iron clasps. Not a good idea, not a good idea, not a good idea, repeated Hiccup. As Stoick slowly creaked up the coffin lid, the coffin lid dropped open with a bang. Stoick jumped away to avoid being splashed by the seawater gushing out from all sides. Everybody else tried very hard not to look nervous. Stoick peered into the coffin. There was a bit of a pause. Not pretty, was he? sniffed Stoick the Vast, trying to show off how much he laughed in the face of death. Oh, I don't know, sir, said Gobber the Belch, leaning in to look as well. I think there's a bit of a family resemblance. I know what you mean. said Baggybum the Beerbelly, turning his head thoughtfully. There's a look of Great Aunt Hefty-High-Thighs. Hiccup forced himself to open his eyes. If he was going to be a pirate, he would have to get used to this sort of thing. He made himself peer over the edge and into the coffin. There! In a state of green and yellow decay lay the corpse of Grinsbeard the Ghastly. It wasn't so bad, really. The face was all slimy and drippy, but it wasn't crawling with maggots or anything disgusting. Rather peaceful, really, lying so still. And then Hiccup was sure he saw one of the paper-white fingers twitch slightly. He blinked. Instead, hotted it. Nothing for a second, and then— there it was again. A different— a deafening quivering. The— the— corpse, stuttered Hiccup. It's— m-m-moving! Nonsense, boy! snapped Gubba. How can he possibly move? He's dead, isn't he? And he gave the corpse a prod with one of his fat forefingers. The corpse of Grimsbert the Ghastly snapped straight upright, propelled by some unappealing force from within it. Yellow eyes popping, dribbling green face contorted in a ghastly grimace. Agh! gurgled the corpse of Grimsbeard the Ghastly straight into the face of Gobba the Belch. Aaaah! screamed Gobba the Belch, jumping quite 3 feet in the air with his hair and beard sticking out in all directions with the shock of it. Aaaah! yelled the rest of the tribe. For while hooligans do indeed laugh in the face of death, And spit in the eye of the great typhoon. They have a morbid fear of the supernatural. Stoick dived under the table with his arms over his head in a vague belief that if he couldn't see it, it couldn't see him. See what poured from the coffin? The corpse of Grimsveer the Ghastly Maid. Disgusting choking noises. The veins on its popping yellow eyes stood out. Its grey mouth quivered horribly. Only Old Wrinkly remained calm. Don't panic, said Old Wrinkly. This is not the corpse of Grimsbeard the Ghastly. Hiccup had frozen in sheer terror, but he trusted Old Wrinkly, and he opened his eyes. Nobody else took any notice whatsoever. They went on panicking like crazy. Wouldn't preserve me from the terminally stupid! muttered Old Wrinkly under his breath, and he started yelling in the only language the hooligans really understood. Don't panic! This is not the corpse of Grimsbeard the Ghastly! As he yelled, he patted the corpse that wasn't a corpse. Hard on the back. Seawater spurted out in all directions, gushing out of his nose and ears and mouth. It wasn't the corpse of Grimsby the Ghastly. It wasn't the corpse of Grimsby the Ghastly. Now that it had recovered from its coughing fit, it was clearly a tall, good-looking man, very much alive, if a little green from the effects of the seawater. So, said Stoick from under the table, that is definitely not the corpse of Grimsby the Ghastly? The corpse that was not a corpse shook his head. Aye, nay, it said faintly. Definitely not. Easy mistake to make, but no, I'm not. And it slithered out of the coffin in a rush of seawater. It removed its helmet and, under the circumstances, performed a remarkably graceful bow. The name is Alvin. Alvin the, uh, poor but honest farmer. Alvin had quick, clever, laughing eyes. He had a long, elegant mustache, a little limp from the seawater. He smiled a charming, easygoing smile. Although a fussy person might think that perhaps it had too much teeth in it. Alvin stepped gracefully forward to pat Hiccup on the head. And who might you be then, sonny? H-Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, stammered Hiccup. Greetings, said Alvin, the poor but honest farmer. He stood to peer under the table. I presume from the air of natural authority that you must be the chief of this tribe. Stoick the Vast, replied Stoick. Alvin clapped a hand to his forehead. Not thee, Stoick the Vast! Terror of the seas, most high ruler of the hairy hooligans, all hear thy name and tremble! Ugh! Ugh! By an extraordinary coincidence, you are the very man I have been searching for! Stoick crawled out from under the table, staggered to his feet, and puffed out his chest. That's me! said Stoick the Vast, in much of his old hearty manner. And may I ask, if you're not the corpse of Grimsbeard the Ghastly, what in Wanda's name were you doing in this coffin? What a remarkably bright question! replied Alvin enthusiastically. And if I could just sit down in this comfortable-looking chair? It's been a long day. Oh yes, of course. said Stroik, dusting off his throne. And I would be delighted to tell you my tale, said Alvin.
