Vehicular Viking Slaughter

It has recently been of considerable debate as to whether a Viking, if removed from his proper historical context and placed in our current era, would commit berserkergång with a vehicle. This thought has been implanted and nurtured by no less than the very same reasons that would potentially compel the hypothetical Viking to succumb to vehicular battle-rage in the first place: all the goddamned assholes who drive around, well, like goddamned assholes. (You know who you are.)

Hell, it’s gotten so bad that you might as well slaughter a goat and hold a feast to honor those rare instances when you don’t encounter an asshole behind the wheel, assuming you’re like me and live somewhere where you generally have to drive to get around. Just the other day I was driving through the woods to my suburban shelter when an asshole casually appeared and deliberately proceeded to risk colliding with me rather than stop as the clearly marked signage had instructed him. Naturally, I laid on the horn and mentally cursed his mother for birthing a hoofed demon with worse driving abilities than Helen Keller, but if I were a Viking, there is no doubt that I would have taken it much, much further than that.

But how far would a real Viking have taken it? Fortunately, for their sake, the original Vikings of the medieval era never had to contend with asshole drivers. The flipside is that this means conclusions can only be drawn from wild speculations based on my interviews with the modern Vikings, but if today’s media is anything to go by, then this is perfectly acceptable practice. From these speculations we are thus able to determine that there exist three distinct methods in which a Viking would go berserk with a vehicle, each appropriately named after one of the three most dominant personalities of the Modern Viking Movement:

The Trondsenator. The Trondsenator unleashes all Hel’s fury using the automobile itself. Too infuriated to even think about the repercussions of any forthcoming actions (just the thought of the ensuing insurance battle would be enough to murder the soul of all but the most hardened vehicular berserkers), The Trondsenator proceeds to batter the living daylights out of his adversary’s car with his own until both engines cease running. Not content with the vehicular destruction wrought so far, he then uses nothing but his bare hands and teeth to rip and chew his way through his seatbelt before pummeling himself through his own windshield, violently detaching the steering wheel and taking it with him in the process. Like a true berserker, he then bites the steering wheel and carries it tightly in his mouth as he crawls into the victim’s car through the passenger window and proceeds to deliver an ass-beating of unspeakable greatness to his semiconscious adversary.

The Törnblom. The Törnblom isn’t so much a form of vehicular berserkergång as it is a cold-blooded method of attaining vengeance through controlled fury, deception, and insurmountable sexual attraction. After being slighted on the road, The Törnblom will stop and emerge from her vehicle with a feigned look of concern upon her face. Seeing the distressed hottie in his rearview mirror, the fickle offender will back up and offer his apologies and/or assistance. His next conscious thought will be: “What the fuck?” which will immediately be followed by something along the lines of: “Why am hanging naked from a tree with an engine oil dipstick pierced through my side?”

The Thirsty Svensson. Once provoked behind the wheel, The Thirsty Svensson will begin to tailgate his prey, flashing his high beams in an incredibly annoying manner. He will continue to do this until either of the following happens:

1) The prey gets so frustrated with the high beam antics that he pulls over and emerges for a confrontation that he has no chance in hell of winning. The Thirsty Svensson’s spittle flies as he beats the enemy senseless, using hockey sticks if they are available. The Thirsty Svensson then heads to the nearest bar to replenish his electrolytes with fermented malt and hops.

2) The Thirsty Svensson passes a bar alongside the road. He loses interest in the hunt, turns in, proceeds to drink heavily, and eventually starts reciting slurred but poetic oratory to no one in particular.

Heraldry

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