Vikings Eat Sopranos For Breakfest by Rathnar Kilbane

The sun rose upon the suburban village and the golf course was in full swing.
Fat little men trying to escape their mundane existence and save money and there little blue pills.

Hit the links.

The mighty Rathnar hid in the bushes awaiting the man slugs appearance the smell of pizza and bullshit gave him away before he was even within sight.

The soundtrack from his male bounding romantic comedy the Godfather embraced the air.
And as he pealed his fat ass from the golf cart the mighty Rathnar sounded the horn of battle.


The terror within his eye's was as great as the stink from the shit in adult diapers.

As his council of retired old farts all departed in his steadless chariot.
Minus porky.

Who pleaded at the feet of the mighty Rathnar offering him many of his charms of E sorcery.

But even the Mighty Rathnar knows these charms are no match for the mighty scrolls.

The blow that decapitated the slug was swift.

And finally this boss hog impersonator from the duke of hazard was shut the fuck up.

As blood and tomato sauce sprayed upon the winds.

And we spread his entrails upon the lands of pathetic men knocking balls with sticks.

As we took siege of the country club and pillaged the bar afterward and threw yuppies upon the fire.

Killing truly centers the Viking.
The battle was a bit like fighting women except they usually actually fight back.

Next we shall raid the coast of new Jersey to finally end that shitty reality show.

To kill is the true way of the vikings.
All hail the Rathnar!!!

Rathnar Kilbane is the Viking poet laureate of Iceland he has been so since the age of seven when he killed his father for this title.

He is currently working on his newest scroll and killing his audience at poetry readings.

He enjoys raping and pillaging poetic kingdoms and destroying his enemies.

When not satisfying his constant bloodlust he enjoys collecting fine art and listening to smooth jazz records.


All hail the Rathnar