I came athwart the mighty shack of Earldran Ethanol, weary of shield, wiggly of bone, wagging for a pinch of ale and wench. My men and I, all good sons of the Goonmark, had fared long over fen and haggis to reach Glargenblargh within a fortnight. The sea wore out our boots; the road was beset by whale and wave. We were spared the toll of heavy hours by travelling lightly during the day. At night, we back-tracked for our things, and by next morn we'd be jowl deep in forest and bramble with only the Star of Odin to guide the oarsmen. Sailing long tracts by short-boat, and short tracts by long-boat, we finally caught sight of the kingly gables of Ethanol. Yet these troubles must had been endured, for our message was trifling and time, that harlot, was lengthy.
"Well met, sons of the Goon!" Ethanol bellowed as he received us in his bountiful barnyard. We made the traditional obeisances in the manner of the Old Kings, for in those days we were yet of the heathen religion; first, we sucked the braided tips of his oakish, fat-stained beard, and then, as per the rites of our forefathers, we battered his wife and daughters with a lordly ham. Our lord nodded his approval. He gifted us each with a ring made from the finest boar snout. Great indeed was the bounty of the Old Kings! We then feasted on delicacies, ate crow, and gnawed bonefish bones to our heart's content. The ale flowed like the tears of Wusswussi, god of whining, and the shield-maidens were as lobsters fresh boiled with ready fleshmeat to be plucked from their beckoning shells.
After the mealtime was doneby, and the tables overturned and set aflame, our Lord turned to question us on the dealings of the Goonfolk. "What news of the Goonmark?" he asked, and we gave him the news of our good King Grizzly Droppingsson, how he came to marry the Irish princess Shamrock McDonotoch, whom we hight Shamrock Partypooper, and how she brought with her to our debaucherous halls the new God of the Eastern Crybabies, hight Christos, and how our Lord would fain discuss the conversion of our peoples. And Ethenol sat Grimly -- his own dog, Grimly, who was much wont to chase his own tail, like unto Jörmungandr, the worm who encircleth the seas, and thereby marr the seriousness of the Lordspeech with foolery.
'Twas then that the King's berserk, Vain the Eyestrained, stood forth and laughed heartily. Vain had the laugh of a man who killeth in joy, the laugh whom countless men heard just before cleft in twain, and which they still heard ringing above in the halls of Valhalla or below in the cavernous House of Hella, that long, whispy, cackling laugh of disdain that only Vain could laugh. He laughed thus for 12 minutes, as the crow flies. And long thereafter he slowed down to a chortle, and wiped away a bear-like tear, and breathed, and thereat began to laugh anew. Awkwardly we shifted in our seats of goodly treestump. But Vain did yet continue his lordly guffaw. And truly he keeled over, and on his knees he laughed and laughed as if under the tickling of a frost giant. Beating the ground in hilarity, of which we knew not, he shattered the fine stones of the King's hall. And at last, his head did burst like a frosty old wineskin, and he laughed all the while, and we heard no more thereafter from Vain the Eyestrained.
After the mess of Vain was cleared aside, Ethanol bade us take to the rugs and the restful rapine of sleep, and promised to discuss our Lord's business in the morning. And we lay down to the comfort only the offal-hay of King's Hall could offer. I was just drifting off to the realm of the dream-hogs, when I felt a sudden chill in my rug, that neither could be wench nor horseflesh, but must needs be some foul weird afoot. And quite rudely did the doors of Ethanol's shack fly open. There stood a shadow-demon four times the size of a full grown Axe-Wielder, and with no normal proportions, but with legs bent as a toad's and arms like Mjolnir, hammer of Thor. And the thing did dash into the hall, and plucked up a companion from beside me, hight Thyr the Succulent, and did devour him most grossly. The King's voiced wavered from his room, quite uncalled for: "What noise?" he said, although none had asked the question. "I hear no noise. 'Tis merely a hog caught fire. Go back to sleep, Gooncubs all." The high pitch of his voice did little to boost my courage, but I merely shrugged and went back to sleep, watching through half-open eyes the fiery hog lick its fingers and burp.
The next morning, Ethanol called us forth to the Thing... I can't quite remember what it was called exactly. He said that he too had been in speech with the priests of the new religion, and had in fact bought one from a Croat, complete with cage and running-wheel. He had the fellow, hight Padre O'Dorkle, led before the lot of us. And he exhorted us all to join his God, for the Judgement day was coming. And our Seidr, old Grinhilda, said that we too had a day of Judgement, and that the sky would rend in twain, the Wolf would devour the Sun, and the gods would do deathsome battle with the giants and the forces of hell, destroying all things in a twilight of fury. And we all rocked out, for this was the best part of the song. But Padre O'Dorke was not stirred, and demanded a test, whereby we might see which god would triumph. And verily he beat us all in arm-wrestling, though he was puny, and he thanked "Jaysus Joseph un' Mary Lord T'underin'" for the victory. And we were all persuaded thereat, and donned his cross of peace and love. Whereafter we made it our solemn duty to burn, pillage, and rape wheresoever our new Lord's message was not received.
Amen, and Hail Satan.
-Testament Writ by Gigli Daughtersson, First of his Kin to Read and Write, and To Take upon Himself the Way of the Cross and the Jewish Comedian.
Posts
