More Viking Nursery Rhymes

(Continued from Part I)

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Knut Spjût would eat no fruit.
And veggies did he hate.
“Meat is all I wish to eat!”
“O wife, come fill my plate!”

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Rock-a-bye Erik
On the North Sea
When the wind blows,
How far you will be.
When the wind ends,
On land you will fall.
And colonize Vinland,
Drakkar and all.

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Fish porridge stinky.
Fish porridge lumpy.
Feed it to a Viking,
You’ll make him quite grumpy.

Some eat it in the winter.
Some eat it in the fall.
But most like to eat it,
NOT AT ALL!!!

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Byörkety Dörkety Bock.
The mice, they took the clock.
They stood their ground,
The cats fell down.
Byörkety Dörkety Bock.

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Scary Skuldor Skùpper
Screams for his supper.
You’re only going to give him white bread and butter?
I wouldn’t do that, if you value your life.
Or he’ll come out swinging his axe and his knife.

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Sing a song of Sagas
Fight until you die.
Four and twenty Vikings,
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened, they all began to yell.
Now wasn’t that a Nordic dish?
But what an awful smell!

Viking Nursery Rhymes

Hyûmpeti Dûmpeti wanted it all.
So Hyûmpeti breached the castle wall.
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men,
Couldn’t stop Hyûmpeti from plundr’ing again.

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Jörgen Pyörgen,
Lutefisk and rye.
Slayed the enemy and made them die.
But Jörgen let some get away,
So he could slay them another day.

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Old Mother Hybbörd
Smashed a Celt’s cupboard
To fetch her Great Dane a bone.
The door she did break
And found a nice steak
Which she shared with him when they got home.

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Hyörgenddy Byörgenddy.
My son Jon.
Went to bed with his armour on.
One boot off, and one boot on.
Hyörgenndy Byörgenndy
My son Jon.

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Thron,  Thron, the Viking Son,
Took a pig, but did not run.
He stood his ground: “I take what’s mine!”
“Tonight I feast!  On pork I’ll dine!”

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Yåck be nimble.
Yåck be quick.
Yåck go plunder the candle stick.

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Little Bo Peep
Can’t find all her sheep
But that’s the least of her worries.
With Vikings invading,
Her farm they’ll be raiding.
Run! Bo Peep! Run!
And hurry!

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Helga, Helga.
What’d I tell ya?
By Thor, does your garden sure grow.
With Silver Bells
And Cockle Shells
And enemy skulls in a row.

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Row, row, row your drakkar.
Boldly on the Sea.
Scarily! Scarily! Scarily! Scarily!
A Viking’s life, for me!

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Leif and Jìyll
Went up the hill
To claim a pail of water.
Leif did yell “Let’s burn the well!”
And Jìyll came pillaging after.

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Roses are red,
The color of Blood.
Be nice to Vikings.
Or your name is Mud.

Viking Winter Olympic Events

Full-Contact Ski Jumping

The objective of the Defense Team is to prevent the Jumper from breaking through their lines.
The objective of the Jumper is to smash through the Defense’s lines, and try to fly to Valhalla.

Whoever wins doesn’t matter.  Either way, it’s all good entertainment.

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Warrior Figure Skating

Ten percent of the score is based on skating ability.   Ninety-percent is based on the ability to intimidate the judges.

(Nyaaargghh!)

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The Judge Toss

This event almost always follows the Warrior Figure Skating

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Viking Curling

What better way to celebrate past victories, than to slide the skulls of your defeated enemies on a frozen pond?

As an added bonus, the skulls, when hollowed out, also make great beverage containers.     The use of controlled substances (such as Viking Grög) is highly encouraged.

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The Medal Presentationa

Normally takes place during the end, if the podium isn’t pillaged and burned down.

You’ll know it’s over, when Berthùnkä sings the Viking Anthem.

Viking Training: Wii are the Warriors

One bright winter day in the village SmelBaäd, there was a knock on Clöst Aerfrök’s door.

“Why, it’s the Traveling Kilted One!”, he cheerfully exclaimed.   “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

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“I come bringing a gift:  a new way to train your warriors to fight.”, said the Kilted One.  “It’s called “Wii.”

“We?”, asked Clöst.

“Wii.”, replied the Kilted One.

“Wee?”

“No…Wii.”

“Whee?”

“No! No! ….Wii!   Wait an minute and you’ll Sii…er, I mean see.”

“Behold!  Imaginary enemies, on the magic viewing screen!   You can fight them over and over, and keep honing your battle skills.”

Before anyone could say anything, the Berserker rushed forward and cried “Enemies!!!  NYARRRRGH!!!!”, and smashed the screen with his mace.

“I win!!!”,  he  exclaimed, as he gleefully continued to pound the pieces into the ground.

“You…you FOOLS!!!”,  screamed the Kilted One.   “Those enemies weren’t REAL!  It was a simulation!   You were supposed to have fought them with imaginary swords, using these special Wii controls!”

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“Sword fight, eh?”, asked Lars.   “Well, why didn’t you say so.  That we DO understand!”      Then he and Hagörf grabbed the controllers, and proceeded to duel with them.

“Though I don’t see the point of this…there is no cutting edge, and these strange devices break when we smash them together!”

Meanwhile, the Kilted One stood there, at a loss for words.

“Hey!”, cried the Berserker.    “There are more of these Wee things in the bag.”

“And look…instead of using them as swords, it’s just as much fun to smash them on your head!”

“Hyargen!  Hyargen! Hyargen!“, laughed Lars and Hagörf.

“Give us some!  Let us ALL smash them on our heads!”.

Which they proceeded to do, until there was nothing left intact in the Kilted One’s bag.

“O Kilted One,  that was a strange game, but FUN!”, said the Berserker.   “What will you bring us next visit?”

“Groan.”,  replied the Kilted One.

“Come”, Clöst said sympathetically.  “I think you need a draft of ale.  Or three.   Believe me, that’s the only thing that helps in these situations.”

“It was a worthy idea.   But perhaps this new technology is a bit too delicate and too sophisticated for the average Viking.”

Viking Schussing

Viking Solstice

“Behold!”, said Clöst Aerfrök, the Village Elder.   “It is the Midwinter Solstice.    The shortest day of the year.”

“It is a time for reflection and thankfulness, for having survived another year”.

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Indeed, winter was a quiet time in the village of SmelBaäd.   The Invading Season was over.   The drakkars were battened down,  and docked until spring.
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Food was stocked from the previous summer.   Warriors got to sleep in.   Children amused themselves playing their Viking games.

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Even Ursaäl was down, for his long winter nap.

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There was little to do…and Vikings, being what they are, grew restless and short-tempered with their all inactivity.    The men were sent outside to cool off to prevent themselves from slaying each other (or possibly their wives from slaying them).

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With energy to spare, they started to pile snow.   Soon, it grew into a wall, and the wall grew into fortifications…
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At the end of it all, they had created a magnficient snow-castle, the likes of which had never been seen.

“It’s beautiful!”, they exclaimed.   “It’s stupdendous!”

“But what shall we do with it?”

“I know…!”  said Bjorgolf the Berserker.   “Let’s burn and pillage it!”

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And so the Vikings did.

They picked sides and staged a mock battle that the entire village participated in.

With mighty battle cries of “NYARRRGH!!!” ringing throughout the day, the snow-castle was pillaged and (somehow) burned to its very foundations.
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The ruins burned well into the night, around which the village gathered to celebrate the Feast of Yule, beneath the dancing Northern lights.

And a good time was had by all.

THE END.

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The Vikings Versus the Eldâr KrΦnes, Part II.

When we last left our Viking friends in Part I,  the Eldâr-KrΦnes had taken over the village of SmelBaäd, and the villagers were quite upset.   They had demanded Olaf Thunderfröck, their Chieftain, do something about it.

Olaf knew this was a delicate matter, as the Viking Code forbade them to use force against the frail, doddering old KrΦnes.   He knew he must first seek counsel with Clöst Aerfrök, the Village Elder.

“O, Worthy Clöst!  You who are so wise such matters.  How are we to rid the village of these cursed Eldâr-KrΦnes?”

“By Odin!  That is a not an easy question to answer”, said Clöst.    “Let me search through the tribal records of Viking Knowledge, and I shall have a solution by morning”.

And well into the early ours of the morning, did Clöst pore over pages and pages of old sagas, records, spells and charms.

“Let’s see….I think I’ve found something…Eldar KrΦnes…also known as Oöld Phårtes…related to the bat family.   From the old legends, miserable in their youth, never knew laughter….doomed by the Gods to walk the Earth as older versions of the same….. Can only be controlled by….yes..yes!   I think I see know!   Fenrir be praised! I’ve GOT IT!!!”

At dawn, Clöst came to the village square and excitedly started giving instructions.

“You!  Young lad!  Gather your friends!  I want you all to behave as jackasses.   Be loud. Be obnoxious.  Pull your pants down.   Curse as much as you want, using the worst language possible.

“But my Mother told me a Viking should never curse, until at least after breakfast”, the young man said.

“Never mind.   Tell your Mother you have my permission.   Just DO IT!”

“…And you, women!”, Clöst continued.   ” Assemble as much pungent lutefisk, pickled eggs, and ale you can.   Men!  I want you FEAST! ”

“But this hardly seems like a time to celebrate and get drunk”, exclaimed one of the wives.

“No time to explain…”, said Clöst.   “You shall have to trust me..just DO IT”.

Soon, the children were following Clöst’s instruction to a tee, parading around the square, and indeed behaving like jackasses.

Young Gunnar started crying “Yo! Yo! Yo!” with a pot on his head, with his pants pulled down.   His friends started following suit.

And this did not please the Eldâr-KrΦnes.

“Shocking!”, scolded one.

“Such lack of respect”, hissed the other.

Then, the children started their swearing.

“Fjörk you!”  “Kyúnge!”  “Eat my Skyärthang!”s

“My word”, exclaimed the first KrΦne.    “Such filth!”

“Children today”, said the second.   “What shall become of us?”

Meanwhile, the men were actively involved in their feast, enjoying their food and drink as Vikings normally do.

And soon the pickled eggs and lutefisk began to take its effect.

“Pull my finger”, said Läars.

“No, pull MINE”, said Kyevin.

“Let as ALL pull our fingers!”

And soon the air was clapping with Viking Thunder.

“Such manners!”,  seethed a KrΦne

“Atrocious!”, fumed another.  “My word, I don’t know how much more I can stand of this!”

Suddenly,  Bjorgolf the Berserker looked pale, and said “I do not feel so good.   Perhaps I had too much ale”.

“Hmph, serves you right.”  the lead KrΦne said.

“No, seriously, I do not feel so good.  You better stand back”

“Land sakes.   I will do no such thing”

But before anyone could say anything, The Berserker let loose an rip-roaring, earth-shattering, sky-rendering Viking BURP…the likes of which would be worthy of Thor himself!

This was the final straw, too much for even the Eldâr-KrΦnes to bear.    And how could they?   Not being Vikings, they had no idea of how to deal with Berserkers.

“Well, I NEVER!”, screeched one.

“Me, neither!”, chimed another.

“I will have no part of such vulgarity!”, seethed a third.

And suddenly, the Eldâr-KrΦnes returned to the cold, north sea, from whence they came, cursing and grumbling the whole time.

“Tell all your friends about us….if you have any.” taunted the villagers.   “And don’t come back!”

Later that night, at the celebration bonfire,  Olaf asked Clöst:  “How did you know?”.

“Once I found the answer, it was easy”, Clöst laughed.   “According to the Legend, Eldâr-KrΦnes despise youth,  vulgar behaviour, and rude table manners”.   And being Vikings, our village has an abundance of all three.   It was a just matter of letting our true nature show, and the problem solved itself.”

And the rejoicing, pillaging and burning went well into the night.

And life was good again, in the Village of SmelBaäd.

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The Vikings Versus the Eldâr-KrΦnes, Part I.

One sunny day, at the shore of the Northern Sea, by the village of SmelBaäd, young Bjarni noticed a strange disturbance in the water.

“By Loki! “, he exclaimed.   “There seems to be some hideous creature rising from the deep!  What is it?”

“Why…I cannot believe my eyes! ”  his father said.  “I have heard of these….it’s an Eldâr-KrΦne!   Quick, we must run to warn the others!”

Soon afterwards, more and more of the Eldâr-KrΦnes emerged from the sea, and made their way towards the unspecting village village.

And soon they began to take over.

In no time at all, travel became difficult, if not impossible.   The Eldâr-KrΦnes blocked all routes with monstrous carts that they had somehow acquired, which they drove at less than walking speed.

“How am I supposed to invade the Celts on time, with this grandomther in my way?”, grumbled Æskole.

Commerce ground to a halt and children went hungry.  The Eldâr-KrΦnes crowded the local merchants, and took forever to buy something.  And when they did, they insisted on paying with hundreds of almost worthless copper coins.

Village security was at risk.   The Warrior-Men were weak from lack of food, and could not concentrate on their practice-jousting, as they were constantly hissed at to be quiet.

Youngsters were forced to listen to long rambling tales of Yore, and were literally bored to tears.    In exchange, they were offered rancid sweets, which threatened to break their young teeth.

As the Eldâr-KrΦnes continued their ruthless invasion, life in SmelBaäd become more difficult.

The villagers were  concerned, and approached Olaf Thunderfröck, the Chieftain.

“These grayish being are making life unbearable!”, they cried.    “Cannot you do something about it?”

“I say, burn and pillage them!   Send them to Valhalla!”, said Fjolkman the Fishmonger.

“No, better yet!  Let us make drinking goblets out of their skulls!!!” screamed Bjorgolf the Bererker, and let out a mighty “…NYARGGHH!”

“I would gladly do so, but you know we cannot”, explained Olaf.   “These demon-creatures…they have special powers.  They are cunning, yet they dodder and appear frail and old.   And our Viking Code thus prevents us from harming them. ”

“But they disrupt our village, torment our children, and tell us to keep off our own grasses and fields! ”

“Agreed, but what would you have me do?”, asked Olaf.  “We  cannot use force…we are powerless against their evil magic”.

Suddenly, a young voice cried out:

“But look what they did to Ursaäl!”

It was young Bjarni, pointing to the Village Bear.

“They knitted that horrid outfit, forced Ursaäl to wear it, and now they’ve made him CRY!”

“Noooo!”, someone gasped.

“The horror!”, a mother exclaimed.

Bjorgolf the Bererker was furious.   “Clearly, those cursed Eldâr-KrΦnes have gone too far!  No one messes with the Village Bear, except us!   …NO ONE!”

“Aye…Viking Code or not, this brings the battle to a whole new level”, Olaf agreed.

“Clearly, we’re going to have to take drastic measure to rid the village for these Gray Ones, once and for all.   But first, I must seek counsel…”

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END OF PART I

What will Olaf do?
How will the Vikings get rid of the Eldâr-KrΦnes?
Will poor Ursaäl need therapy?

STAY TUNED FOR PART II..!!

Vikings Versus Dinosaurs

Who’s wining?

I call it a draw….

Viking Technical Support

“By Odin!”, exclaimed Clöst Aerfrök, the Village Elder.

“My Magical Thinking-Box has ceased to work..the Seeing-Portal has gone a strange shade of blue.    What sort of trickery is this that Loki inflicts on us?

“How shall I be able to figure out the tide schedule, so we can know when to set sail to invade the Celts?  How shall I calculate how to distribute our plunder?    How shall I count the Lute-Fisk harvest?”

“This is a grave situation.    Here, young Apprentice…guard the Portal, until I summon the Viking Council.”

“Let ME help!…..” offered the Berserker, after Elder Clöst had left.

“No…wait!”, said the Apprentice.     But it was too late.

“NYARRGH!”, the Berserker screamed.

“That evil blue glow smells of DEATH!  I shall send these vile spirits back to the realm of Niflheim, from whence they came!”

Elder Clöst came back to find the Berserker standing in a pile of the broken pieces of the Magic Thinking-Box.

“HE did it..not ME!”, cried the Apprentice.

“Idiots“, Clöst muttered under his breath.

“Sigh…very well.  What is done, is done.     Summon the Kilted Barefoot one…he will know what to do”.

The Kilted Barefoot one arrived, and assessed the carnage.

“Aye, the damage is great.  But all is not lost.   I may be able to help you.”

“Bring me four logs of the stoutest Oak, thick as a man’s arm.   A heavy length of twine,  spun from the finest hemp, and two human skulls,  from our bravest defeated enemies”.

And the Kilted Barefoot one worked through the night,  applying his sorcery…

Came dawn, the Barefoot one presented his work:

“Behold…I have strung the pieces of the broken Thinking-Machine bits along the twine, and have formed an abacus.    This will still allow you to calculate and count.   Perhaps not as quickly as before, but I promise you, the Blue Screen of Death shall torment you no more”.

“Crude, simple, but effective.   And still better than what we had before”, exclaimed the Elder.  “I thank you, O Kilted One.  We shall reward you well”.

And they did.

And the village was soon able to resume invading the Celts,  dividing their plunder, and counting their  Lute-Fisk.