UPSET STOMACH
Drink a cupful of live earwigs. The insects will attack the germs in your small intestine and eat them. Probably,
CHICKEN POX
Paint the spots with Old Wrinkly's soothing lotion of Runny Seagull Poo, This will relieve the itching. It will also cause your friends to stay away from you, thus protecting them from infection.
HEADACHE WITH TEMPERATURE
Old Wrinkly's tasty medicine of sheep mucus and dead flies wrapped in cobwebs will soon have the patient bouncing out of bed.
A VIRUS
Pray to Thor. Nobody knows what to do with a virus. *
* Interestingly. 1,5000 year later, medical science has advanced to such and extent, that we STILL don't knew what to do with a virus.
6. WHAT OLD WRINKLY SAID
Old Wrinkly was Hiccup's grandfather on his mother's side. He lived in a large untidy house on the beach. He was delighted to see them, and he fed them all porridge. Toothless snoozed in front of the blazing fire in his fireplace, while the snowy clothes of Hiccup and Fishlegs dripped dry on chairs.
"What can I do for you, little Hiccup?" wheezed Old Wrinkly, lighting a big fat pipe.
"It's my friend, Fishlegs," explained Hiccup. "He's not very well."
Old Wrinkly looked at Fishlegs, who was shaking like a leaf in a high wind.
"Oh come on, Hiccup," said Fishlegs irritably. "I keep telling you, it's just a NASTY COLD ..."
Old Wrinkly tut-tutted.
Old Wrinkly was the wise man and soothsayer of the Hooligan Tribe. If you were ill, you would go to Old Wrinkly and he would examine you, consult the gods, and then give you some perfectly disgusting medicine like rabbits' droppings in limpet goo that might or might not make you better. (Doctoring and looking into the future are complicated businesses -- to tell the truth, Old Wrinkly did not always get them right.)
Old Wrinkly put his ancient old hand on Fishlegs's forehead, and tut-tutted again. "Very hot, very hot," he muttered to himself, "and sweaty." He listened to Fishlegs's heart with a strange trumpet like instrument and tut-tutted some more.
And then he threw some twigs onto the fire, and poked the flames with a long metal stick.
"Oh diaries me!" gasped Old Wrinkly as he stared at the red embers.
"That sounds cheerful," shivered Fishlegs.
"The fire seems to be telling me that your friend has VORPENTITIS, caused by the sting of a VENOMOUS VORPENT," said Old Wrinkly sadly. "Have you met any Venomous Vorpent recently?"
There was a nasty cold feeling in the bottom of Hiccup's stomach.
"We did meet a Venomous Vorpent...," Hiccup said slowly. "A couple of months ago ... a Vorpent fell onto Fishlegs's hand when we were escaping from Fort Sinister..."
"But it didn't sting me!" Fishlegs said eagerly. "I didn't feel anything sting me!"
Old Wrinkly shook his head. "The Vorpent numbs the skin before it stings. It's very clever really. You wouldn't have felt a thing. And then nothing happens, until a couple of months later, when you fall ill with Vorpentitis."
"What are the symptoms of Vorpentitis?" asked Hiccup.
"Fever ... runny nose ... episodes of madness ..." replied Old Wrinkly gloomily.
Hiccup's stomach was now as cold as ice, but he tried to sound cheerful. "And how do we get him better?"
Old Wrinkly sounded gloomier still.
"Weeeell...," he croaked, "that's the tricky part.... The sting of the Venomous Vorpent is pretty much always FATAL."
There was a nasty silence.
"The good news is," continued Old Wrinkly, "we have until ten in the morning tomorrow to find the antidote before your friend dies."
"Oh good," said Hiccup, hugely relieved. "So there IS an antidote ..."
Fishlegs had been listening with an open mouth. "But all I've got is a NASTY COLD!" he protested. "A nasty cold -- and you tell me I've only got one day to live!"
Hiccup ignored him. "What's the antidote?" asked Hiccup.
"This is where the tricky part gets trickier ..." wheezed Old Wrinkly. "The antidote to the sting of the Venomous Vorpent is the Vegetable-That-No-One-Dares-Name. "
"What, you mean the POTATO?" gasped Hiccup.
"Sssssh," whispered Old Wrinkly, desperately flapping his hands. "You're not supposed to name it! It's bad luck!"
"But the POTATO is an imaginary vegetable!" said Hiccup, who thought all this talk of bad luck was just superstition. "It doesn't really exist!"
"There are those that say the Vegetable-That-No-One-Dares-Name can be found in a great country to the west known as America ...," Old Wrinkly pointed out.
[Insert: * Potatoes only grew in America at this time, and America hadn't been discovered yet. ]
"But most people say," said Hiccup slowly, "that there's no such place as America. Most people say that it's an imaginary land that only crackpot weirdos believe in. Most people think that the earth is as flat as a pancake, and if you sail too far to the west you will fall off the end of it."
"That is what most people say," admitted Old Wrinkly, shrugging his shoulders and carrying on puffing his pipe.
"And even if there WAS such a thing as this so-called potato in this so-called land called America," argued Hiccup, "we're never going to be able to sail to it and find the antidote in only ONE DAY. In one day you'd hardly be out of the Sullen Sea.... The thing you're suggesting is IMPOSSIBLE."
"There's no such thing as im-POSSIBLE, Hiccup," snorted Old Wrinkly, "only im-PROBABLE, The only thing that limits us are the limits to our imaginations ... and I used to think of you as an imaginative boy. Give up, if you want to ... but I used to think of you as the sort of boy who would NEVER give up, however bad things looked."
"OK, then," said Hiccup crossly. "Give me one reason not to give up."
"I will give you a reason," said Old Wrinkly. "There is a chance that Norbert the Nutjob Chief of the Hysterics, may have the antidote to Vorpentitis."
Hiccup jumped. "NORBERT THE NUTJOB??" said Hiccup. "Why does HE have a POTATO? Where did he get it from?"
"I will explain by telling you the story of Norbert the Nutjob's father and the Doomfang," said Old Wrinkly.
"You do that," said Hiccup, already feeling anxious at the mere mention of Norbert the Nutjob.
Old Wrinkly relit his pipe. "I have to warn you, Hiccup," wheezed Old Wrinkly between puffs, "that, like a lot of stories, this may or may not be true ..."
[The Hooligans thought that the world was FLAT and sailing too far to the West was a REALLY BAD IDEA.]
The Story of Norbert the Nutjob's Father and the Doomfang
"Fifteen years ago," began Old Wrinkly, "the Chief of the Hysterical Tribe was Norbert the Nutjob's father, Bigjob.... The Hysterics have never believed that the world is flat, and that if you sail too far to the west you will fall off the end of it. The Hysterics think this is poppycock. Bigjob believed that the earth was as round as the moon, and he set out to prove it.
"Bigjob built the greatest Viking ship you have ever seen, a ship called The American Dream, and he sailed far, far to the west through storms as black and wild as Woden's nightmares. He sailed past icebergs higher than a ship's great mast and on and on over the Great Green Sea Desert, and however far he sailed he never came to the end of the world, for the world is as round as a circle, and a circle has no end. "
Hiccup could contain himself no longer. "Is this true?" he burst out. "Is the world really a circle that has no end?"
"I have no idea," replied Old Wrinkly calmly. "As I told you, this is a story. Be quiet and I'll tell you the end.
"After a journey so long it seemed like forever, Bigjob at last found the land that he had dreamed about, the land called America. This tuas a glorious country, full of natural Treasures like the Vegetable-That-No-One-Dares-Name, and friendly natives that Bigjob called 'Feather People. 'Bigjob spent a happy couple of months there before returning home to the Inner Isles.
"Norbert's father decided to take back with him a FROZEN VEGETAB
LE-THAT-NO-ONE-DARES-NAME, so that everybody would believe that he really had been to America. On the journey back, Bigjob had an extraordinary feeling the ship was being FOLLOWED. At first he thought it was a great whale or a shark, but eventually he realized it was something far, far worse. It was a tremendous Sea Dragon called a DOOMFANG."
"That is strange,'' interrupted Hiccup. Hiccup knew a great deal about dragons, and this was very odd behavior for a Doomfang. Doomfangs are heavily armed, terrifying creatures, but they normally just ignore humans.
"Will you stop interrupting?" said Old Wrinkly.
"This dreadful animal followed them all the way from America like a Curse. It was only when they reached the Wrath of Thor that the animal attacked, and tried to swallow the boat. Bigjob was very brave. Riding his dragon the Thunderer, he shot arrow after arrow at the Doomfang. These specially sharp arrows had been given to Bigjob by the Feather People, who are very expert at making arrows. Bigjob was down to his last arrow when the Doomfang finally killed him. Ever since that day, the Doomfang has never left the Wrath of Thor. For fifteen years, no one has been able to get into Hysteria, and no one can come out. The Chief of the Hysterical Tribe is now Bigjob's son, Norbert the Nutjob, and he has never gotten over the death of his father. It is said that he keeps the frozen Vegetable-That-No-One-Dares-Name in a casket, and it is in as good condition as it was fifteen years ago.
"So there you are," said Old Wrinkly, "That is the story of Norbert the Nutjob's father and the Doomfang. Of course, at this time of year, the Wrath of Thor is frozen over, and the Doomfang is trapped under the ice. And Hysteria is only a three-hour sleigh ride from here."
Hiccup jumped to his feet. "I know," he said. "We were there only yesterday. We haven't got a moment to lose.... I must go to Hysteria and bring back the antidote."
Fishlegs's mouth dropped open. "I can't believe I'm hearing this.... You're thinking of GOING BACK TO HYSTERIA??? The creepiest, grimmest, scariest place I have ever been to in all my life, and you're going to go there in the DARK?"
"The Hysterics won't see me coming in the dark," Hiccup pointed out.
"You shot Norbert the Nutjob in the bottom with an ARROW!" howled Fishlegs. "You think you can just ask him politely to give you his precious American vegetable and he's just going to HAND IT OVER??"
"Burglary may be involved," admitted Hiccup. 'And all because of Old Wrinkly's SOOTHSAYING? Everybody knows that Old Wrinkly is nearly as hopeless at soothsaying as you are at Frightening Foreigners."
"Thank you," murmured Old Wrinkly. Fishlegs hadn't finished yet. "I keep on telling
you ... I have just got a BAD COLD.... A... a...a ... tish-yoo! Actually, I'm not feeling that well.... Would you mind if I lie down for a moment?"
"Be my guest," said Old Wrinkly. "You can have my bed ... and I'll make you some hot lemon and honey. Don't forget, Hiccup, you have until ten in the morning tomorrow, before Fishlegs dies ... TEN in the morning, mind..."
So Hiccup left Old Wrinkly looking after his great friend Fishlegs, and ran out of the door. He had finally realized he might not have much time left...
And although he didn't know it at the time, those were the first steps he took toward the scariest, the most alarming and ghastly adventure of his life so far. He was indeed setting out on a quest... a quest that would be a race against time and lead him to a terrifying monster and icy peril, which would be sung about by bards ever after as the Quest for the Frozen Potato.
[Insert: Even if the earth was as round as a potato
(How ridiculous!)
And if you could reach the land of your dreams
On the other side of the ocean
(How silly!)
I would still be there waiting for you.
So give up, give up, give up, give up
Because NOBODY can cheat the CURSE of the VENOMOUS VORPENT.
And you only have fifteen hours left. ]
7. THE QUEST FOR THE FROZEN POTATO
Hiccup marched out of Old Wrinkly's house back to the Celebrations in the Harbor, followed by a grumbling Toothless. For about six hundred meters he was absolutely certain about what he was going to do.
He would go and explain to his father what had happened, and ask him to set up a Quest for the Frozen Potato. The Hooligans were always going on quests.
But when he eventually found his father, who was trying his luck in the Frozen Lucky Dip, he suddenly didn't feel quite so sure of himself.
Stoick wasn't as pleased to see his only son as he normally was. He had just lost a big bet because the Bog-Burglar Young Heroes had WHIPPED the Hooligan Young Heroes in the Smashsticks-on-Ice Competition, fourteen goals to nil. So Stoick was not in the best of moods.
"Bother that Old Wrinkly and his stupid soothsaying. An EASY WIN for the Hooligans, he said. Put all your money on it, he said. And what happens? The Bog-Burglars win fourteen-NIL. I should have known it," Stoick muttered to himself as he drew a large frozen object from the lucky dip and tried to work out what it was. Fish? A useful axe? A small chair?
"Father," said Hiccup determinedly, "I want to set out on a quest."
Stoick looked at his son with surprise. "What sort of quest?"
"You remember my friend Fishlegs?" said Hiccup.
Stoick rubbed his nose crossly and grunted.
"Old Wrinkly says the reason he attacked you was because he has been stung by the Venomous Vorpent and he is in the first stage of Vorpentitis, and that causes episodes of madness, you know ... and the thing is, Father, unless we can find the antidote in time Old Wrinkly says Fishlegs may DIE ..."
Stoick looked as if he wasn't sure whether to be sad or happy ... but then he saw his son's face and hurriedly looked sad.
"Um ... yes ... oh dear ... ," said Stoick.
"So I want to set out on a quest for the antidote," announced Hiccup.
"What is the antidote?" asked Stoick the Vast.
"Old Wrinkly says the antidote is the potato," said Hiccup.
"SSSSSShhhh!" said Stoick. "You're not supposed to name it! And the Vegetable-That-No-One-Dares-Name is an imaginary vegetable -- surely you know that, Hiccup?"
"Old Wrinkly says that the Hysterics went to America and brought back a frozen potato," continued Hiccup stubbornly. "So I want to FIND the potato and save Fishlegs's life."
"I FORBID YOU TO DO ANY SUCH THING,'" roared Stoick.
"If we don't believe in the potato Fishlegs may DIE!" Hiccup yelled right back at his father.
Stoick the Vast lost his temper and waved the Unidentified Frozen Object (U.F.O.) around his head.
He roared at his son so loudly poor Hiccup's ears rang.
"YOUR FRIEND FISHLEGS IS A LITTLE WEIRDO WHO JUST CALLED ME A JELLY-BELLIED LARDY-BOTTOMED GREEDIGUTSI"
Hiccup flinched as if he had been struck, and then Stoick felt ashamed, and controlled himself. He reached out and patted his son on the shoulder, and he tried to speak more reasonably.
"Look, son, I know this is difficult for you, because you are fond of your friend, but let's just say that for once in a blue moon Old Wrinkly is right. Even then, as the Chief I WILL NOT risk the life of my only son for the sake of a little weirdo that Fate has got it in for."
"Isn't it the Chief's job to do that?" said Hiccup steadily. "Fishlegs has no one else to look after him."
"You WILL NOT do it," said Stoick, very meaningfully indeed. "Because I FORBID it, and that is an order, son. An order from your CHIEF." Stoick put the U.F.O. on his head (he had decided it was a HELMET) and stalked off.
The unfortunate thing about going on a quest to save the life of your sick best friend is that you have no best friend to go with you. Hiccup watched his father stalking off with what looked very like a frozen chair on his head, and wondered miserably what his chances were if he went on the quest for the Frozen Potato alone.
Um... chief...why have you got a CHAIR on your head?
Not im-POSSIBLE, he thought sadly, but, let's face it, im-PROBABLE.
Camicaz
i stuck her head out from underneath the Lucky Dip table.
"Did I hear someone mention the word quest? When do we get started?"
"Oh, Camicazi. You really shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations," said Hiccup.
Camicazi wriggled out from underneath the table and started doing handstands. She still had her ice skates on.
"We Bog-Burglars always listen in on other people's conversations," she said cheerfully. "It's one of the reasons I'm going to be so helpful to you on the quest for the Frozen Potato."
"YOU are not going on the quest for the Frozen Potato," said Hiccup. "It's far too dangerous."
"Dangerous? PAH!" boasted Camicazi. "Why, I've burgled whole flocks of SHEEP off the Visithugs.... I've picked the pockets of the Perilous Pirates.... I've stolen the helmet right off the head of Mad guts the Murderous, and you want me to steal one measly little vegetable?? No problem, Hiccup, watches and teaches, my boy, watch and learns."
Hiccup raised his eyes to the heavens. If Camicazi had a fault, it was that she was very, very pleased with herself. But it had to be admitted, she was an excellent burglar.
"There's this Madman with an Axe ...," Hiccup pointed out.
"Better and better," said Camicazi. "There's nothing I enjoy more than teasing Madmen with Axes. It's my favorite sport. If you don't let me join in I'll tell your big fat cross father where you're going."
"But that's blackmail!" protested Hiccup.
"You see," grinned Camicazi, "we Bog-Burglars have no morals at all. It's very useful to us."
Hiccup gave up, and said she could come if she wanted to.
Camicazi rushed off to get her burglary equipment, and Hiccup prepared a small sleigh to take them to Hysteria.
He also pulled down his boat, The Hopeful Puffin, to drag on runners behind the sleigh.
"What are you doing?" asked Camicazi, returning with her arms laden with ropes and oddly shaped, pointy metal objects.
Cressida Cowell_How to Train Your Dragon_04 Page 4