Without another word, FeeTwix takes off towards one of the terraces. He walks fast, excited to finally be getting back into the action. If he’s experiencing any feelings regarding battling Tomas, he’s hiding it.
Typical, Ryuk think as he watches the Swede in action. He has a role to play.
As they follow him, Ryuk gets in line next to Enway to confirm with her that there is an actual reason they’re going after the wolf. “Just to make sure: you’re certain that the city officials will allow us access to the catacombs if we catch the wolf?” he asks.
“I’ve already told you. Outsiders aren’t usually allowed in, but outsiders don’t normally help us rid ourselves of our little canine problem. So you all will get in.”
“It seems to me, and correct me if I’ve mentioned this before,” Hiccup says after he’s scrambled up one of the terraces, “that someone in this town could have taken out the wolf on their own. Are you telling me you aren’t able to light a wolf that big on fire with your wowsie wow magical powers? Give me a fickin’ break.”
Another healing potion appears in his hand and he pops the top.
“Where do you keep getting those?” Enway asks, a grin spreading on her face.
She really is lighthearted, Ryuk thinks as he listens to Hiccup lay into her.
He mostly ignores the goblin, especially after he gets in a heated discussion in Thulean with Zaena. At least it sounds heated.
The mountain air is cool on his skin as they move from the terrace to a path cut into the rock face. From there, they scale a short slope, which proves challenging for Hiccup. Once they arrive at a winding mountain pass, they follow it until the goblin announces a discovery.
“Hold up, Mitherfickers!” They turn just in time to see Hiccup stick a bloody finger in his mouth. He nods, licks his lips, and drops to his haunches to have another taste. “That’s not like any wolf blood I’ve ever tasted.”
“Ewwww,” Enway starts to comment.
“Yeah, Elfy? Well fick you too. Here I am trying to be useful and you have to go and turn up the racism.”
“She wasn’t being racist,” Ryuk says. “Tasting dog’s blood isn’t really, um, something people do.”
“Something people do. You hear yourself?” Hiccup asks as they continue along the dark path. “Well, no way I’m going to educate you fickers, so I might as well tell you about my other cousin, Spew George.”
“I thought it was Spew Gorge.”
“Listen, Marbles, I know it’s hard to pay attention to the words of a handsome goblin with an equally healthy amount of pink hair and a vocabulary that would make me perfect for public office, but if you had paid attention, you would have heard me say George, not Gorge.”
“So you have cousins named both Spew Gorge and Spew George?” FeeTwix asks over his shoulder. He now wears a headlamp illuminating their path. Ryuk steps a little too close to the wrong side of the walkway and some pebbles fall.
“Spew is a common goblin name, for your information.” Hiccup stops, beats his chest for a moment, swallows, and scrunches up his face. No sound this time, but anyone standing behind him, including Ryuk and Zaena, instantly suffer.
Ryuk swallows the urge to vomit, and moves to the front of Hiccup, so he is no longer downwind. Zaena whops the goblin on the back of the head, causing him to stumble forward and shout ‘Yooooy!’ when he trips on a rock.
“Son of a ficklord, Liz! Keep your fickin’ konoshlo to yourself. Fick! I thought it was a ghost!” Worry spreads across his face and Enway laughs.
“Tell us more about Spew Gorge, or was it George?” FeeTwix asks, entirely focused on tracking the wolf with his watch.
“George, rhymes with norge.”
“Norge?” Ryuk asks. “Is that a Thulean word?”
“No, Marbles, it’s the Norwegian word for Norway.”
“How do you even know that?”
“I drink healing potions and I know things, is that what you want me to say?”
“Sweden, my home country, is next to Norway,” FeeTwix adds.
“Are you guys enemies or something? I’ll tell you what, if anyone named Norge says anything funny to me, I’d fickin’ cut their balls and their chalupa, fry them up, and feed them to a troll.”
“Churro,” Enway giggles.
Hiccup tenses, takes a deep breath, and continues his story about Spew George. “Anyway, Spewy– ”
“I thought you called Spew Gorge ‘Spewy?’” Zaena inserts.
“For fick’s sake, people, let me finish my goddamn story. I swear to the Empress’ milk-filled fun bags of epic proportions that babysitting the four of you is going to be the death of me. Now where the fick was I? Marbles, I need you to start taking notes … ”
“Quiet!” FeeTwix hisses. “We’re getting closer.”
“So,” Hiccup whispers, “Spew George came across this ink shadow in Tlapa, on the far western side of Hyperborea. Tlapa is far from the Goblin Riviera, but Spewy was always a traveler and he loved adventure, unlike yours truly.”
“Spew Gorge, right?” Zaena snickers.
“Ignore her,” Hiccup tells Enway and Ryuk, both of whom are definitely not listening. “Spewy had this bright idea of challenging the ink shadow to a game of punch chest. Now sure, an orc, even a big orc– I’d challenge that ficker to a game of punch chest. But an ink shadow? Fick that. Speaking of which, you know who I’d really like to play punch chest with? Ryuk’s little fickboy doppelgänger.”
“Quiet!” FeeTwix says again.
“Anyway, like a real ficktard, Spewy swung at the ink shadow and passed right through the no good fick-faced jizz farming son of a boar turd. So then it was the ink shadow’s turn. He swung at Spewy and knocked the living goblin out of him. So now he’s dead. George, not Gorge. Funny, that. Spew George was killed by an ink shadow. The ficker not only made a necklace out of his nails, he also made a pair of cowboy boots out of his skin. I’m telling you, they’re sickos, real sickos.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Ryuk asks, suspicious of the story.
Hiccup rolls his eyes. “You never asked me.”
“Let me see,” FeeTwix whispers, still tracking the wolf. “You’ve mentioned that an ink shadow took someone’s chalupa, I think that was Spew Gorge, and you mentioned that he cursed another relative and I believe a dyck byter snake got to him.”
“Yeah.” After scratching his ass, Hiccup starts counting. “One, two … you’ve mentioned two stories I’ve told you about ink shadows and goblins related to me. Now I’ve told you three. What the fick do you want from me, Twixy, the children’s book? Do I need to add subtitles? Ink shadows are bad news, people. I don’t want to sound racist like Liz over here, but fick each and every one of them sideways. If ever there were a reason for eugenics, ink shadows would be one of them.”
“So this is about ink shadows being bad news?” Ryuk asks. “This whole story?”
“Oh come on, you act like I don’t have to listen to you whine about how you almost got to first base with Tammy back there in the Mondegreen or how you once saw a little sideboob.”
“I never said that!” Ryuk says too loudly.
“Shhhh!” FeeTwix turns to Ryuk. “We’re close,” he whispers. “Shut the fuck up, Hiccup.”
“He’s right, goblin, there is no point nor moral to your story and it’s probably made up. I think all goblin stories are made up, or at the very least, hyperbolized to an extreme degree.”
“The fick you say!?” Hiccup starts to growl.
“Here! Weapons up!” FeeTwix has out just about the biggest gun in seconds flat. “Spitfire LMG,” he tells Ryuk before he can ask. “From a mech world called, well, Mecha XXE. No short bursts here,” he grunts as he pops the mag in the weapon. “High recoil reduced by fifteen percent every 1/9th of a shot … best for long bursts.”