Whoa! Screaming Death! Alvin the Treacherous, you will be remanded to our jail until a proper sentence can be handed down. What do you want? The Night Fury. Gaah! [clanging] Stoick! [grunts] Dad! Nobody make a move. We'll be leaving now. No matter what it takes. [hums] Hmm. I trust you're finding your accommodations adequate? Gosh, those ropes look awfully tight. [ropes tighten] Don't go getting too cozy, Stoick. Look at it this way. By sundown tomorrow, you'll either be back on Berk or at the bottom of the ocean. It's really up to Hiccup. Oof, wow, can't feel too good about that. [people shouting] Why him? Aah!