Olaf Erikson, his friend was one knut,
Knut Larson, that is, acquaintance yes, but
When embarking on a trip of rape and pillage,
Could never agree on just which village,
To covertly attack in the dead of night,
And give to the villagers a terrible fright
They’d go down right to the waters edge,
Pulling their large provisions sledge.
They would then load up their longboat,
Sometimes, in their haste, they’d load the wrong boat.
Then it was off to sea,
To England or Ireland, whichever it be,
Their arrival would not be to the local’s liking,
They would try to hastily leave by hiking.
As fast as they were able to go,
No matter if there was wind, rain and snow.

Hagar the Horrible was a viking bold,
His lifestyle ensured he’d never grow old.
But before he received his just deserts,
His battle history shows that with death he flirts.
Vikings sometimes used hallucinogenic drugs.
Magic mushrooms, which made them even worse thugs.
The Beserkers were this type of freak,
They would attack, not through stealth or sneak,
But rampaging, shrieking in a loud howl,
And, no doubt, using language quite foul.

Knut was a genuine viking nut.
He felt himself in a bit of a rut.
Pushing into water his long boat,
Until it was definitely afloat.
He called his crew, his fighting men,
They numbered just over ten,
Then with spear, sword and axe,
They set out on a journey to help them relax.
Raping, pillaging, setting things on fire,
These were things to which Knut did inspire.
If they could make others lives sad,
They could truly feel themselves very glad,
Until one fateful day, into a town they did stray.
Knut now felt that perhaps they had lost their way.
There was a very large army in that town,
That caused Knut the nut to frown.
It only took a moment or two,
Before Knut and his motley crew.
Were exterminated from this earth,
But, no problem, they were of no worth.
This should be the fate of all scoundrels and villains
Cleanse the earth of vile rapscallions.