The bell screamed, its shrill ringing echoing down the hallways. Feet shuffled across tile and carpet, lockers banged. Laughter and chattering voices filled the halls as both teachers and students filled into their classes. The teacher's lounge slowly emptied as teachers prepared for their classes.
Gothi the school nurse, who the administration hoped would retire and who was staying on simply to spite them, hobbled down to her office by the gym. Camicazi left with a mutter about fixing clarinets, and Gustav muttered curses in French under his breath as he left to prepare his lessons.
Mondays were always hard on the teachers as well as the students. Dagur, who taught Mathematics, showed up just before the first class, having missed his alarm. Ruffnut the Physics teacher had already downed a pot of coffee, while the janitor, Mildew, was nursing a flask of whiskey.
Hiccup stumbled on a fold in the carpet and nearly dropped the stack of tests he was carrying. Astrid smiled fondly into her coffee as she watched him. Unlike her friends and collegues, first bell was her prep hour, so she could kick back, relax, and watch the chaos unfold.
Sadly, as she taught the middle school as well, she did not have the lunch break that the other teachers had. She was the only teacher with this issue now. Camicazi used to teach the middle and high school musicians, but a new music teacher was hired for the elementary and middle school.
However, her lunch hour was actually the same as Hiccup's prep period, so he would often bring a treat for her when he walked down to the gym. The two of them would talk, chatting about everything and nothing. Occasionally, they would go out for coffee after school, but between grading, Astrid coaching, and the need for sleep, it wasn't often.
So she sat in the empty room and smiled as she drew up lesson plans for the next week. She couldn't wait for her lunch hour, and her time with her friend.
When a burly man with tattoos all over his body and a muscle shirt sauntered into the teacher's lounge before school the next day - during a staff meeting, no less – not one teacher knew who he was.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Dagur.
"Me likey..." Ruffnut whispered to Astrid, eyeing the man's hulking form.
Astrid scowled. She already didn't like him.
"Oi, the visitor's office is 'own the hall. Ya' got the wrong room." Gobber, the shop teacher, looked up from the duck he was carving.
"Yeh better clean that mud off mah floor, or I'll hang yeh by yer toes," Mildew growled at him.
The stranger looked at them. "I am Eret, son of Eret, the new English teacher."
"Thank God," grumbled Fishlegs. "I hate teaching all those classes."
"Welcome!" Stoick shook his hand. "I hope you'll like it here."
Eret eyed the rest of the teachers, his eyes falling on Astrid. "Yes, I think I will. What about a tour, babe?"
Astrid marched up to him, shoving a map into his chest. "Here's a map. Do you need one to get your dick back in your pants?"
The twins 'Ooh'-ed loudly while Gobber guffawed. Stoic sent her a tired glare, to used to her cussing to even care any longer.
Hiccup noted that his sarcasm appeared to be rubbing off on her.
Eret did not seem dissuaded, however. "Oh, playing hard-to-get, are we? Don't worry, you'll be begging for it soon enough."
The gym teacher smiled, and Hiccup winced. He knew that smile. Eret wouldn't last ten minutes.
"Come here, sweetie." The last word was spat like it hurt her to say it.
Eret swaggered over, smirking. "Yes?"
"Do you know what I do in my free time?"
"Wait for me to sweep you off your feet?" he asked, still smirking.
Hiccup covered his eyes. "I can't watch..." He peered curiously between his fingers.
Eret suddenly found himself on the ground, wheezing, then Astrid stomped on his stomach for good measure.
"I coach mixed martial arts," she snapped at him, slamming the door behind her as she left.
The man slowly crawled to his feet, wheezing. The only teacher that was paying attention any more was Ruffnut, who was still ogling him.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded.
The Spanish teacher, Drago, licked a finger and turned a page in his newspaper. "That was karma."
Ruffnut 'Ooh'-ed again, and Tuffnut howled with laughter. "Do you need some ice for that burn?!"
Eret glowered, stomping out the door to his classroom.
By lunchtime, news of Eret's arrival had gone all around the school, and so had his reputation. Most of the teachers avoided him at all costs, but none more so that Astrid.
He had come down to the gym to chat her up, and Astrid had had to call Alvin, the guidance counsellor, down to remove him. She would have decked him out, but she had a class of sixth graders to attend to.
Eret had accosted Heather in the hallway, trying to kiss her. She promptly slapped him, snarling scathing words at him. He continued his attempts, trapping the struggling Heather against a wall.
The twins noticed the commotion and came barrelling towards them. Tuffnut got there first. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"
"Go back to your beakers, you moron," Eret sneered at him.
Tuffnut swelled in anger, but Ruffnut was the one who threw the first punch.
She snarled at him as he crumpled. "That's my brother you're speaking to, you bag of shite!"
Gustav ran into the hall as well, yelling obscenities in French, closely followed by Drago, who was waving a Spanish copy of Hamlet in the air.
By the time Eret finally stalked back to his room, almost every teacher was on the scene. They demanded the visibly-shaken Heather go home for the day, but all were angry with Eret's actions. Ryker called a huddle, and they discussed.
"This means war," growled Snotlout.
Tuffnut's eyes lit up, and Ruffnut looked positively delighted. "What about a prank war?"
Camicazi's smile was positively evil.
Hiccup agreed, but said he wanted rules.
"Okay, rules," Viggo said, wiping his hands on his apron.
"No permanent harm," Fishlegs muttered.
Many faces fell, and the twins openly voiced their displeasure.
"But why?"
Ruffnut sighed. "But I wanted bloodshed..."
"No permanent harm," Hiccup agreed. "But whoever does the prank that drives him out wins."
They all cheered, and left to plot their respective pranks.
The students at Berk High were ecstatic. Never had a Monday been so much fun. Just after lunch, the whole school was rocked by an almighty blast. Every teacher in the building ran down to the sciences hallway, preparing for the worst. They burst into Eret's class, where a class of students were all crammed into the back corner. The far wall had collapsed, burying Eret's desk in rubble.
Tuffnut peered through the hole, looking stunned. "Oh dear, that experiment went badly."
Hiccup almost was fooled, but the wink the male twin gave him ruined it.
Then, shortly after that mess had been cleaned up, Gustav's French class came to carol.
"We wrote a song, just for you!" the teacher said.
The chorus was "Tu est merde." Eret's class laughed the entire time, leaving the confused teacher in the dark. As they left, Gustav wave goodbye and shouted cheerily "Va te faire foutre!" Those who knew French sat in stunned silence. It wasn't every day you heard your teachers use such language.
The next day was no better. Eret came in just as the bell rang. Every eye in the room was on him.
"Why are you all looking at me?" he demanded angrily. They all looked away, sniggering. He saw why, and roared in anger and shock.
Several blocks of jello sat on his desk, most of his personal belongings entombed inside. His mobile phone rang, the purple gelatin jiggling with the vibrations. Eret walked slowly to his desk, picking up a green cube that held his stapler. He chucked it against the wall, chunks of jello falling to the floor.
"If any of you brats are responsible for this, I'll make you pay!" he bellowed.
They all flinched back, frightened by the angry man's outburst and puce-coloured face.
Before he could say another word, the sprinkler above him kicked on. He sat there, water dripping down his face. The kids, thinking it a fire drill, filed outside. Eret didn't move for a long time, his clothes soaking wet.
The pranks just kept on coming. Buckets of water over the door, coffee spiked with laxatives, someone even filled his desk with shaving cream.
Eret had protested to Stoick, as well as the authorities; he had even demanded to see the security footage. Nothing. The cameras simply showed empty halls at night.
By Friday, he was a nervous wreck. He peered around corners, scuttled through the halls terrified, and jumped at small noises. A student slapped their books down with a smack, and the jumpy man tripped over his feet in an attempt to get away, falling in a closet.
That was the day he left. At lunch, while Eret hid in his classroom, the teachers plotted. Meanwhile, in the cafeteria, the students plotted.
Just as the late bell rang for the first afternoon class, the door of Eret's room burst open, students pouring in. They had war stripes on their faces, and waved rulers in the air, screaming bloody murder.
The terrified man ran from his room, only to trip and fall directly into a pie Viggo had been holding. Scrambling to his feet and scrubbing at his eyes, he gasped as buckets of suds washed over him.
He ran down the hall, pranks going off left and right. A cloud of chemicals dyed him mace-spray pink. A Rube Goldberg knocked over a trophy case, nearly crushing him. He ran into a painted door, courtesy of the art department. The shop class lobbed paint-filled sponges at him.
As he ran out the door, followed by a mob of teachers and students, he reached his car just in time. The heater kicked on, full blast, spraying flour and glitter all over him. Eret slammed on the gas, eager to escape from the madhouse, and shot backwards.
The car careened through a fence and into a pond. Curious cows crowded around, watching as the embarrassed and thoroughly terrified man man climbed out of his sinking car.
Berk High School is a community dedicated to learning, education, and above all, family. So when some arse hurts that family, you can bet your bottom dollar that folks won't put up with it. Don't believe me? Check YouTube, sonny!