The phone was on a roll today. Astrid was no longer sure if her job title was "Responsible Pharmacist," or "Receptionist."

"Hello, Berk Pharmacy, can I help you?"

There was a baby screaming on the other end, muffled sounds of cursing and the voice of a panicked mother desperately trying to be heard over the noise. There was a loud crash. Astrid winced.

"Hello? Can I help?"

The crackly static noise on the other end lent credence to her theory the phone had been dropped. Astrid waited another ten seconds to be polite. Then she hung up. Immediately the phone started ringing again. Astrid took a deep breath.

"Hello, Berk Pharmacy, how can I - "

"Do you have MediPlus Ultra silver-impregnated cotton-free adhesive-free sterile wound dressings, six by five by twenty one?" The sentence was conveyed in the most demanding croak Astrid had ever had misfortune to hear.

"Sorry?"

"I said, do you have MediPlus Ultra silver-impregnated cotton-free adhesive-free sterile wound dressings, six by five by twenty one?" It had to be either an old woman or an old man, it was difficult to tell. Astrid eyed the top shelf in the left corner where the dressings they kept in stock were shoved haphazardly. Dressings were hardly ever in demand and she had no idea what they stocked, apart from basic gauze.

"Girl, are you listening to me?"

Make that a crabby old woman or crabby old man.

"Sorry, just checking for you, hold on a minute - did you mean six point five by twenty one?"

"I SAID, SIX BY FIVE BY TWENTY ONE!" roared the old crab over the line.

Astrid gave up on looking for a stool and craned her neck, trying her best to study the boxes high above her from where she stood. A dusty orange box stood partially obscured by a stack of foil-packaged squares, boasting the words "MediPlus Ultra" in bold white lettering.

"We have some MediPlus dressings ….."

"Are they silver-impregnated? Cotton-free? Adhesive-free? I'm allergic to latex. Six by five by twenty one?"

Ruffnut finally poked her head into the dispensary, having sent off the last wave of customers. Astrid covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Ruffnut! You're here, thank the gods. Do you have any idea if we have …. MediPlus Ultra dressings, silver impreg-"

Ruffnut grimaced. "Oh, it's him. Here, pass me the phone."

Her counter assistant had never appeared more saintly. Astrid handed the phone over with a grateful look.

Ruffnut answered the phone with a sickly sweet voice. "Good afternoon, Mr Mildew! How can I help you?"

Astrid's eyes bugged out and went very, very round. Ruffnut had never, ever used that tone of voice before. She didn't even know Ruffnut was capable of maintaining such a tone. It gave her the creeps.

"Yes, yes, of course we do! Yes, yes. Six by five by twenty one. Exactly. Yes. Of course!" There was a pause. Ruffnut pretended to hum in agreement as she made faces at Astrid. "Sorry, you'll have to pardon us, she's a new girl, she doesn't know what she's talking about."

Ruffnut was damn lucky she still looked like a saint, even if her halo was beginning to dim.

"Yes, of course! Nothing but the best for you, Mildew. Okay, we'll see you! Bye!"

Ruffnut put the phone down. "Phew." Then she grinned and bowed theatrically. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," she proclaimed grandly, "Is how a professional handles difficult customers." She stared expectantly at Astrid. "What, no applause?"

"Do we actually have the - MediPlus Ultra silver - whatever is it he wants?"

"No idea."

Astrid stared. "What?"

"It's not like it matters. He calls three times a week asking for the same thing, but he rarely ever shows up."

"So we lie to him." Astrid's voice was flat.

"No, we tell him what he wants to hear to keep him happy so as to get rid of him in the most efficient manner," explained Ruffnut matter-of-factly. "And also so that he only calls thrice a week instead of every single damn day."

Once again, Astrid felt uncomfortable. On one hand, everything Ruffnut was saying made perfect sense - in a practical sort of way. On the other hand, Astrid had always prided herself on her professionalism - professionalism that was rapidly falling by the wayside the longer she worked with Ruffnut. She bit her lip.

"Isn't there something about not lying to customers in the policy somewhere? And speaking of policy, don't think I didn't notice you handing off those laxatives to that girl without so much as by-your-leave. It's obvious she's anorexic, not constipated."

Ruffnut glowered mutinously. Astrid glanced away.

"You could've reminded her to keep hydrated, at least."

Slowly, Ruffnut unfolded herself from her perch beside the phone. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Astrid watched her warily. Ruffnut could be unpredictable, there was no telling how this could go. There was a long moment as both women just stared at each other. Finally, Ruffnut let out a sigh and slung an arm over Astrid's shoulders.

"Look, I know," she said, in what Astrid supposed was Ruffnut's idea of a consoling tone. "You're new, and idealistic, and this isn't going how you were taught in pharmacy school."

Astrid snorted. "You don't say."

"But this is the real world, girl!" proclaimed Ruffnut melodramatically. "Textbook is all good and well, but in real life, it's all about the money." Ruffnut slapped the cash register for emphasis. "You've got a pretty piece of paper on the wall that qualifies you to give good advice, and when people ask for it, by all means, you give it." She pulled Astrid close conspiratorially, as if to divulge a secret. "But if they don't ask for it, don't give it. Nobody likes unsolicited advice. It's bad customer service."

Astrid pushed Ruffnut's arm off her shoulders. Ruffnut shrugged. "It's not like anyone will listen anyway. Or appreciate it. Save yourself the trouble."

"I didn't spend four years in pharmacy school to be a glorified shopkeeper, Ruffnut."

"Suit yourself." Ruffnut's answer was dismissive as she wandered back to the front counter. It was clear she had lost interest in the topic. Astrid wasn't ready to give up.

"I'm going to hold myself to the standards I've been taught to uphold. And one day, you're going to see that people actually appreciate proper medical advice and eat your words."

Ruffnut barked a laugh.

"When that day comes," she promised, "I'll eat your hat."

Solpadeine Boy didn't show up on Friday, but Astrid got acquainted with many other regulars over the week. Chocolate lady had a baby who went through two tins of formula a week and would not tolerate anything but chocolate-flavored milk formula. Cherry was a fit and moustached, middle-aged man who asked for cherry-flavoured nicotine gum every time he came in. Cherry flavour didn't exist, but Ruffnut assured Astrid she'd been selling him the passionfruit flavour for years without problems. Cough Syrup was another addict who was addicted to, you guessed it, cough syrup. Hatchet Lane was a sweet old lady who tried to convince them their pharmacy was at the wrong address and this was, in fact, her cottage at Hatchet Lane. Dysentery was a paranoid old man who was convinced he would die of dysentery if he missed his dysentery tablets. Ruffnut made a great show of sitting him down and taking notes, then sent him away with a pharmacy label slapped onto a bottle of mints.

Berk was a colourful place. And full of stubborn people.

Even if she didn't like it, Astrid was beginning to get resigned to Ruffnut's brand of "customer service". There was truth in that the people of Berk generally did not take well to "unsolicited advice", as Ruffnut put it. The nice ones gave polite smiles and empty assurances both parties knew were insincere. The ruder ones, well, Astrid wondered why she'd ever chosen to be a pharmacist in the first place.

"Shit, it's Mildew!"

"Who?"

"Six by five by twenty one!"

Case in point.

"Shit! I thought you said he never comes!"

"I said he rarely comes! Not never!"

The bell chimed.

"DO YOU HAVE MEDIPLUS ULTRA SILVER-IMPREGNATED COTTON-FREE ADHESIVE-FREE STERILE WOUND DRESSINGS, SIX BY FIVE BY TWENTY ONE?"

If Astrid thought he sounded demanding over the phone, he sounded even worse in person. He was a nasty looking old man with crooked yellow teeth. Skeletal and ancient, the volume of his reedy voice betrayed an unfortunately healthy set of lungs.

"I have bad news," whispered Ruffnut.

"You don't say," replied Astrid in the same low tone. The two girls huddled in the dispensary, both unwilling to step out. Mildew was hobbling his way to the counter, step by rickety step.

"I mean, I have worse news." Ruffnut corrected herself. She pointed at the shelf of dressings high above their heads. "I broke the stool."

"Well, shit."

Mildew banged his fist on the counter. "WHERE IS DAISY?"

Astrid did a double-take. "Daisy? Who's Daisy?"

Ruffnut paled. "I'mgoingtolookforanewstoolnowbye!" The wind whistled as the glass door slammed shut behind Ruffnut. The bell chimed belatedly.

Damn traitor.

"I WANT TO SPEAK TO DAISY!"

Bereft of options, Astrid approached the counter. "Aa-h, how can I help you, sir?"

"GET ME THE DAISY GIRL!" he roared, still banging on the counter.

Astrid backed up and half-raised her hands. "We don't have anyone here by the name of Daisy."

"THE GIRL I ALWAYS SPEAK TO! I SPOKE TO HER ON THURSDAY!"

Ruffnut. You little shit. The sickly sweet voice suddenly made a lot more sense.

Mildew stopped shouting and pinned her with beady eyes. "You're the new girl. The one who doesn't know nothing."

Astrid could only nod.

"GET ME SOMEONE ELSE!"

Astrid would only be too glad to do so, if her good-for-nothing colleague hadn't run off and left her out to dry. She mustered her best customer service demeanour and addressed the shouting bag of bones.

"I'm sorry, sir, there is no one else available at the moment. If you tell me what you need, I can try to help?"

"I NEED MEDIPLUS ULTRA SILVER-IMPREGNATED COTTON-FREE ADHESIVE-FREE STERILE WOUND DRESSINGS, SIX BY FIVE BY TWENTY ONE!"

Astrid cast a desperate look at the top shelf sitting smugly above her reach.

"All the dressings we carry are on this shelf, sir, if you see anything you need -"

"I NEED MEDIPLUS ULTRA SILVER-IMPREGNATED COTTON-FREE ADHESIVE-FREE STERILE WOUND DRESSINGS, SIX BY FIVE BY TWENTY ONE!"

Astrid sighed. "I'll get a stool."

She strode into the storeroom and leaned against the door, snatching a quick reprieve before continuing the battle. The stool was pushed up against the far wall. It didn't look broken.

Had that traitorous rat been lying to her?

Astrid tried to pick it up. It fell apart in her hands.

"GIRL!" came the irate bellow from the counter. Astrid marched out with a broken stool leg gripped tightly in her white-knuckled fist. For one glorious moment, she allowed herself to entertain the vision of slamming it across that wrinkly, spittle-filled face. Then she stalked past him to the dressings shelf and began using the wooden rod to prod at the boxes there.

"MediPlus Ultra, was it?" She was proud of her even tone.

She tried to poke the orange box. The rod wasn't quite long enough. She switched her attention to a blue box closer to the edge. Non-Sterile. A stack of boxes tumbled down and hit another stack. It wobbled. Three rolls of Bacti-Free gauze rolled off the shelf and landed in the toothbrush section. Ruffnut could deal with that later. She pried free another promising-looking box. MediCure Xtra. No good. Mildew was going into another rant about unprofessionalism and useless new recruits.

The bell chimed.

"Astrid! Astrid - sorry, I couldn't find any stools - not around here - but Mr. Tall and Lanky Solpadeine Boy here can help!"

There in the doorway, Ruffnut steered a man into the pharmacy with an iron grip on each shoulder. Astrid caught a glance of bemused green eyes under a pair of red eyebrows raised high. He waved awkwardly.

"Uh- hey. Ruffnut says you need some help?"

A/N: Whew! Here's a nice, long chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews guys! You have no idea how much you inspired me - so much that this chapter birthed itself so fast and bounced in my brain until I couldn't do anything else but write it up. I'd really thought the next chapter would have been this weekend at the earliest! It's fun reading about what you think Hiccup is using the meds for, by all means keep the guesses coming! I'd like to see where people are expecting the story to go. Even if it's making me a bit nervous to reveal the actual reason!

Sorry there's not much Hiccup in the chapter, but there's more to come, promise! As always, read and review!