The picture fades in to a forest, tall fir and spruce trees casting their shadows on the ground, bathing it in twilight. The crunching sound of footsteps makes the cameraman whirl around, showing Christer “Fenrir” Lundmark trudging through the undergrowth.
Christer: There is always this cliche that the Northmen were bloodthirsty, cruel people that would only be out to plunder and kill. Sure it was part of their lifestyle, but many people forget that we used to be master navigators that could find their ways even through the most adverse weather and much respected traders, managing to cover areas any other people and tribe could only dream of. And how did we manage that? By iron discipline and teamwork. And that is why I am not coming to Vancouver alone.
Several more footsteps now join in and as the camera zooms out, several more bearded men are joining Christer in his march through the forest.
Christer: You see, where I come from we still value these traits, work hard, work together and you can achieve many things. So a few of my friends have decided to come to Canada and join me for an adventure of a lifetime. Back then the Northmen used to hunt for deer and boar, today we shall hunt for angels…
Without paying any further heed to the camera, he walks past, with the other men following behind, silent and with grim expressions on their face.
Vancouver, Stanley Park, a dreary, rainy day. The camera moves in to the area, where the famous totem poles stand, their lively colours muted by the grey clouds and the steady drizzle creating a thoroughly unpleasant backdrop. One man stands in front of the totems, down on one knee, his head bowed in a gesture of respect. As Christer “Fenrir” Lundmark straightens up, water is dripping off his braids and running off his black coat. Without turning he speaks in a low voice.
Christer: I pay you my respects, oh great spirits of the land.
He slowly turns around and gazes at the camera, apparently completely unsurprised by its presence.
Christer: Azrael, I hope you are not surprised that I do not want to stand with you, but against you. Look at yourself! You start out as one of the most wishy washy people I have ever met, indifferent, lacking ambition, less backbone than a wet towel. Then you somehow kill yourself and come back, all high and mighty as a messenger from god or Odin knows what in Hel you are trying to portray yourself as, playing all benign and helpful, starting to show some actual drive to do something and now you end up in almost the same spot you were in before.
Spewing forth the same drivel week in, week out, trying to help people, trying to guide people, hell, taking a loss, if it makes the other person feel better, you are not a goddamn wrestler, Azrael, you are a freaking social worker, you’ve just come to the wrong place for it, man. Talk about wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe consider going to university or something for psychology classes? Hey, just trying to help here.
The look of contempt on his face is clearly visible.
Christer: So what are you going to do when we meet at Northern Crown? Are you going to get down the hammer and then clock yourself in the head, so you can help me feel better? Oh please do, as much as I detest weaklings relying on help, maybe it will knock some sense into your brain and maybe if you do it yourself it helps more, I don’t know anymore. How would you put it, ‘God helps those who help themselves’. So go right ahead, I will not stand in your way.
He continues with a grim smile.
Christer: You keep on yammering about your god is my god and whatnot and I am not sure, if I should laugh, cry or just throttle you. If you need a more modern example, look at the economy. Who will run your company or department better? A jack of all trades that knows a bit of everything or people that are specialized in whatever field they are covering? The same for religion. There you have your one God, handling everything at once. Here you have the Norse pantheon, where gods take care of special things, unhampered by everybody else.
So how can I apply that to you now… Oh yeah, compare it to your and my brain. You use one single brain cell and try to get everything under control with it, while I use many, many of them, each doing what it does best. See where the crux of this whole thing lies? The worst thing is that you still firmly believe in it and really think that it will work. Well, Don Quixote, I’ll play your windmill to run against, but trust me, I will not just disappear into the figments of your feeble mind when you reach them, I will be the stone wall you will run into when you get there.
He reaches behind him and lifts up an ornately carved, giant hammer.
Christer: So Hammer of the Gods at Northern Crown, you and me. Well, you, me and this beauty. We are one to one, Azrael, this week we will settle this once and for all. Have you ever met somebody in berzerker rage? When all reason shuts down and the body goes into overdrive mode. When the body does not feel any pain or impact. When the sole focus is on one thing and one thing only. You… It will not matter, if you bring in your god and the white lightning, something that Lance LaRusso probably knows a thing or two about, because it will not help you again. It will not help you anymore.
He hefts the hammer, holding it high.
Christer: This might not be Mjölnir and emit lightning, but I think that it does not have to in order to take care of your skull, Azrael.
With that he brings the hammer down with all his might, cracking a huge rock in front of him. He looks up with a smile.
Christer: Til Valhall!