His weapon zips away and a bag of Purina Taste of the Wild Lamb, Buffalo and Rice formula appears in his hand. He steps around Zaena, rips open the package, and proceeds to pour it out in front of the Mitherfickers.
“Is this a fickin’ ad read or something?” Hiccup asks.
“Are you hungry?” FeeTwix asks the big wolf. The beast looks from his owner to the Swede.
(0)__(0)
“His name is Wolf,” Oric says, as the pony-sized canine goes to work on the pile of dog food that FeeTwix has laid out.
“That’s like Liz’s mom naming her Liz!” Hiccup snorts. “Fick me, I’m funny. Hey!” He swats at the air, hoping to catch Zaena’s ghost limbs in the act. “Enough with the konoshlo, Lizzy, it’s late and I’m already creeped out.” He shivers, looks around, and eyes a particular shrub suspiciously for a moment. “Better not be any ghosts up here.”
“Wolf loves the food,” FeeTwix says, “but most dogs do. I, um, need to get my GPS bullet out of him. Unless you want to.”
Oric gives him a funny look. “You shot my dog?”
“Well, yeah. But it’s pretty easy to get this particular bullet out. Painless really, you just have to flash this little device I have … ” FeeTwix rummages around in the pocket of his overcoat. “Ah! Here it is. Flash this over it and the bullet will release its barbs. Then you just push it out. I can do it, but you probably should, seeing how you’re his owner and whatnot.”
Oric limps forward and takes the small device, which is about the size of a credit card.
“Know where you shot him?”
“In the hind leg – right leg, I believe.”
Oric presses a button and red light appears. He runs it over his wolf’s right leg as it eats, and sure enough, a beeping sound lets him know he’s found the bullet. Once the barbs have retracted, he smooths his hand over Wolf’s fur and the bullet drops out.
“You want the bullet back?”
“Um, sure.”
Ryuk switches to instant messaging.
Ryuk: He’s level 58. Everyone saw that, right?
FeeTwix: Noted.
Zaena: He is very powerful.
Hiccup: That’s what she said. Fick me, I’m funny.
Ryuk: This may be a little presumptious, but what if we ask him to join us? I mean, he needs to heal up, obviously, but you saw what we just went up against back there. Tomas was in the fifties, and I’m guessing the next enemy the Shinigami throw at us will be equally leveled. Tamana is leveling up too.
Hiccup: The fick you just say?
Zaena: We’ll need to be careful, but I don’t see any problem with improving the strength of …
Hiccup: The Mitherfickers. We have a name and if I’m not mistaken, I’ve never heard you use it.
FeeTwix: Not a bad plan at all. Plus I like dogs.
Ryuk: Is that why you had dog food in your list?
FeeTwix: Damn skippy. I had a dog named Rex in Dead City. He was one killer Pomeranian!
Ryuk feels someone tug on his hand. He turns back to see Hiccup scowling at him.
“Marbles, I swear to the Empress, kid, I like you, I really do, especially after your balls dropped a few days back, and sure, you need to visit a whorehouse with me to keep those nuts hanging, but that’s beside the point. Where was I?”
Ryuk starts to sigh and Hiccup cuts him off.
“No, don’t remind me. I remember– extreme vetting. Whatever happened to extreme vetting? Remember the ban? I’m calling it a ban, there, I said it, and don’t for a minute think that a mangy wolf the size of a Chiup hog and fickin’ He-Man over there with his dumbass sword of doom are going to pass the test.”
“Test?” Ryuk shoos Hiccup away.
“I’m not finished! After what your bride-to-be Tammy did back at the Shinigami’s guild quarters, we need a test to vet, extremely vet, anyone that we offer membership to.”
Ryuk raises an eyebrow at him. “What if one of your cousins asks to join?”
“Why would we need to vet one of them? They’re good people. Except Spew Gorge. He’s a real little ficker. He’s possibly my son too, but you didn’t hear that from me. But yeah, fick Tarzan over here and the wolf he rode in on.”
“Your goblin is a real asshole,” Oric says after he’s heard Hiccup say all this.
Ryuk’s face flushes red, embarrassment writ large. “Don’t listen to him,” he tells the poisoned warrior. “He can be … ”
“I can be what?” Hiccup presses past Ryuk and points his mechanical finger at Oric. “And for fick’s sake, what is with all the racism in this guild? I’m nobody’s goblin, I have a name. What’s with you people?”
“You people?” Zaena asks.
Ryuk interjects, “Hiccup, relax, ‘goblin’ is not a racial term.”
“Yeah, when we use it, but if others use it … you know what? Fick all of you, especially Liz.” He shoulders his way to the back of the group again.
“Fick you too, goblin!” Zaena laughs.
“Hey!”
“Is he always like this?” Oric asks.
“Not always,” says FeeTwix, “but usually. Anyway, ignore him. It’s late, and if he’s not gambling or visiting the hen house, Hiccup likes to get to bed early.”
“Damn straight, Twixy!”
“We may not seem like we get along,” Zaena says, “but we all generally like each other, some more than others.”
Enway chuckles. “Don’t look at me. I’m not part of the group yet. I haven’t been vetted either.”
Hiccup throws his hands in the air. “Fick it, he can join the guild. I give up. Not on Elfy though, she’s still getting vetted.”
“Baka!” Ryuk whispers under his breath.
“Join your guild?” Oric’s expression turns dark. “Not interested.”
“Good for me. Fick you and your dirty mutt. Twixy, got another headlamp?”
FeeTwix nods and the headlamp appears in his hand. The goblin waddles over to him, swipes it out of his hand, and once it is secured and he has made sure his pink hair doesn’t look bad, Hiccup goes over to the cliffside, finds a perch, and pulls a copy of the Tritanian Times out of thin air.
He makes a point to open to the jobs section and starts perusing the “Help Wanted” page.
A sudden realization flashes across Enway’s face. “You … you have Emil’s Sickness, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” says Oric. “I’m not familiar with many of the sicknesses of this world.”
“Do you mind if I examine you?”
Hiccup laughs from his perch. “Hell no he doesn’t!”
“Um, sure.” Wolf looks up at Enway as she circles around the pile of dog food and over to his master. “Relax, boy,” the warrior says under his breath.
“Let me see your arm.”
Oric shows her his exposed arm. Healing magic sprinkles from her fingertips as she touches him, and as she predicted, her healing power has no effect on him.
“I’m sorry,” she finally says, her eyes filling with concern, “I don’t know how to cure this.”
“Look no further!” FeeTwix points a finger in the air. “First person to tell me a cure for Emil’s Sickness gets an exclusive selfie of me and a one hundred dollar gift certificate to McStarbucks!” His eyes flash as he begins reading messages. “I see! Interesting. Ooo, risqué – can’t do that one! Uh-huh … uh-huh … that’s not too hard! Boom, done! All right, everybody, it looks like the Mitherfickers are heading to Lake Klattenhoff!”
“Lake Klattenhoff?” Ryuk asks.
“It’s where we’ll find the cure to Emil’s Sickness, according to, oh, about two thousand of my fans.”
“What? Are you out of your mind, Twixy? We’re helping this fickin’ jabroni?”
“That’s just the kind of Mitherfickers we are!” FeeTwix offers Oric his biggest, most sincere, shit-eating grin. “Give me a moment as I consult with my colleagues.”