The Viking Chief
It was a beautiful day in Berk. The mighty chief Stoick of the Hairy Hooligans and his beautiful wife Valhallarama had brought forth a son...and the future chief of the tribe. The entire village of Berk had celebrated...save for one Viking. A Viking was in his home and looking out the window, scowling at the happy family that was his brother Stoick's. Why does his older brother get to have all the fun and Spitelout gets nothing? The thought of that alone made Spitelout want to tear that little bundle of joy to shreds. If only...
A mouse scurried across the floor of his home and Spitelout caught it quickly. He glared at the mouse and, like a madman, started to talk to the rodent.
"Life's not fair, is it?" Spitelout asked mockingly. "You see I...well, I...shall never be Chief. And you shall nev'r see the light of day." Spitelout set the mouse down, holding on to it by its tail, picked up a knife, and said, "Far'well." Suddenly, the door to the Viking's home slammed open.
"Didn't your moth'r ever tell you to play with your toys, not kill them?" a very annoying voice cried out. Gobber the Belch, Stoick's beloved companion, belched out a loud belch, scratched his butt, and entered the house. Spitelout sighed aggravatedly and asked, "What do you want?" Gobber belched again and answered, "I'm here to tell you that Stoick is on 'is way." He belched once more. "So you bet'r have a good excuse for mis'ng the ceremony this morn'ng." The last belch caused the mouse to finally wrench free from Spitelout's meaty hand. It scurried away as Spitelout complained, "Oh now look, Gobber, you made me lose my toy." Gobber belched and cried,
"Hah! You'll lose more than that when Stoick is done with you. He's as mad as a Nadder dur'ng mat'ng season." Spitelout picked up his ax, and started to creep up on Gobber. "Oh...I'm shak'ng with fear." Gobber, sensing danger, started to back towards the door. "Now Spitelout, don't look at me like that...HELP!" he cried as Spitelout easily picked up the Viking. Spitelout was about to swing his ax at the annoying Viking, when a deep voice echoed from the front door: "Spitelout...drop 'im." Gobber gave Stoick an OK sign and complimented, "Perf'ct timing, Chief." Spitelout dropped Gobber, which caused a loud thud on the floor, and a loud "Ow!" from Gobber.
"Well, if it isn't my own big brother, actually leav'ng his throne to talk with his common'rs," Spitelout commented, sarcastically overjoyed. Stoick only glared at his younger brother and answered, "Valhallarama and I didn't see you at the celebration of Hiccup's b'rth." Spitelout gasped dramatically and, faking astonishment, asked, "That was today? Oh, I feel so terr'ble." As he said this, he took his ax and slid the sharp end against the rocky floor, causing a shrieking sound from both ax and floor. Spitelout admired his ax and commented, "Must have slipp'd my mind." Gobber, finally getting enough courage back, replied,
"Yeah? Well, as slipp'ry as your mind is, as the Chief's brother, you should have been f'rst in line." Gobber cringed as Spitelout glared at Gobber and answered, "I was f'rst in line...until that l'ttle pipsqueak was born." Stoick stood in front of Gobber, eyeing Spitelout's glare and answered harshly, "That pipsqueak is my son...and your future Chief." Spitelout, mocking his brother, commented with fake politeness, "Ohh, I shall pract'ce my curtsy." Spitelout started to leave his house when Stoick called out to him,
"Don't turn your back on me, Spitelout." Spitelout rolled his eyes and answered, "Oh no, Stoick. Perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me." Stoick grabbed his brother's shoulder and whipped him around so that they were face-to-face. "Is that a challenge?" the angry Chief growled. Spitelout only answered casually, "Temp'r, temp'r. I wouldn't ev'r dream of challeng'ng you." Gobber stood behind Stoick and said, "P'ty. Why not?" Spitelout glared at Gobber and said to him, "Well, as far as bra'ns go, I get the Vik'ng's share. But, when it comes to brute strength," he turned to Stoick and finished, "I'm afra'd I'm one who's putt'ng out fires, and not kill'ng dragons." With that, Spitelout left his house. Gobber did a deep sigh and tried to comfort Stoick.
"There's one in ev'ry fam'ly sir." Stoick stared as his brother departed and asked, "What am I go'ng to do with 'im?" Gobber, jokingly, commented, "You could give him Agata's wonderful castor oil." Stoick, getting the joke, replied jokingly, "Gobber." Gobber and Stoick left Spitelout's house and started walking up the hill to the Chief's house as Gobber replied, "Just th'nk. Whenever he is bad, you can give him oil and he'd clean up his act!" Both vikings chuckled as Stoick opened the door to his house, and a baby's cry filled the air as Valhallarama is cooking dinner.
A/N:
In case you don't understand some of the words, then replace the ' with an "i". And yes, that is a bad joke, but I tried. Anyway, please review! Until then!
~storyteller221 :)