Snotlout and Hiccup approach their fathers to pitch their idea wip
|“So, let's go over this one more time. What are we doing?”
“Hiccup, relax. It’ll be fine. We’ve got nothing to worry about...but I still think you should go first.”
“Snotlout, I’ll stop worrying when you prove you know the plan. We have to get this right, or it will be a waste of everybody’s time. And, no, I am not going first.” Hiccup’s voice was firm.
“Fine, fine. We talk to our dads and sell them on this idea of yours, which is, by the way, still crazy. I tell my dad he gets to train you with weapons, and you tell Stoick I get to learn about...what was it, again?”
“‘The rigors of being a chief, son,’” is the phrase you’re looking for.” Hiccup drew his chin down to chest and furrowed his brow. Snotlout snorted at the Stoick imitation. The two of them had some problems, but definitely bonded over living with difficult dads.
“Right, I get to live with and learn some chief stuff from you, not Stoick. I’m still not sure he’s gonna buy that. I mean, we’re Jorgensens—why should we care?”
“Tell him you’ll have more opportunity to influence me, to share your great Jorgensen self with me. Make it up, Snotlout. Tell him what he wants to hear. Don’t lie, just let him think he’s winning. That’s what I’m doing. Stoick the Vast gets the upper hand with Spitelout Jorgensen? I’m selling that to my dad. You can, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So, you tell your dad, then I’ll talk to mine.”
“No, we both talk to them at the same time. I’m not going first, Snotlout. Besides, I thought you were this brave warrior.” Hiccup raised an eyebrow.
“You know, you were easier to live with before you grew. You gain a couple of inches, and now you’re a tyrant.” Snotlout looked at him. “Okay, okay, we tell them at the same time.” He rolled his eyes.
“Great. Come on Snotlout, ‘relax, it’s going to work,’ remember?”
“Shut up, Hiccup.”