FROM RAGNAROK TO ROCKY ROAD
Magnar stood at the bow of the boat and peered at the approaching foggy shore. It was to be his first taste of battle in weeks and he was beyond ready to swing his mighty war hammer at his enemies.
“Prepare to go ashore!” The order came from the Jarl himself, the leader of this group of Vikings. His name was Bjorn and Magnar knew him well, he was married to Magnar’s sister.
“Hope that axe is sharp Jarl Bjorn. It will have to be to keep up with my mighty hammer!” Magnar yelled back as he jumped onto the beach from the ship. Just then the sky clouded over and it began to pour rain. Magnar ran towards a group of huts that were in a clearing at the edge of a large group of trees just off the beach. The inhabitants were coming out of the huts and running from the invaders.
“You will have to flee faster than that!” shouted Magnar as his fellow Vikings ran toward his location. One villager stumbled and fell. Magnar approached and raised his heavy iron hammer. As he began to bring it down a tremendous flash from the sky above lit up the entire beach. it struck Magnar’s hammer with a thunderous boom. Then there was darkness.
Magnar opened his eyes slowly and found himself on strange ground. It was black and hot and had yellow lines all over it. His hands burned as he pressed himself up off the ground. The massive Viking shook his head and looked down at the ground. His war hammer lay there with a splintered handle and a smoking head but otherwise mostly intact. He picked it up and looked around.
There were strange metal chariots moving at high speeds on solid stone pathways. He turned around and saw a long structure no higher than the great hall of his homeland but it looked much sturdier. It was built of many small rectangular red blocks held together with some gray material. Magnar saw a human come out of this great hall through a clear portal that he swung open. The portal closed behind him and he noticed Magnar.
“Are you here for the birthday bash?” said this skinny human. He wore the strangest clothing Magnar had ever seen. He knew this language was different but somehow understood its meaning. “I didn’t know we were doing a Viking theme. I like it, very authentic.” This skinny creature touched Magnar’s fur cloak as he said this. Magnar pulled away and grunted. “Oh man the kids are gonna love you. Your acting is fantastic. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were the real thing. Good luck! Go on inside. The party is just getting started.” This strange man pushed Magnar toward the portal he came out of. He held it open and nudged the Viking inside.
Once inside Magnar had to shield his eyes from the bright lights on the ceiling. There were many children running around and some were bouncing up and down on platforms with a tarp of some kind stretched across. There was a pit that children were jumping into filled with strangely colored, perfectly round stones of some sort. These kids must be berserkers in training, they appeared to not only be unhurt by jumping into the stones but they were smiling and laughing. This must be a very powerful tribe, Magnar thought. If these children are so maniacal the older ones must be insanely fierce and powerful.
Magnar walked through the area and came to a table that had bowls containing mounds of some kind of creamy substance with spoons in each bowl. There were several different colors of the substance in the bowls. “That’s ice cream for the kids but go ahead and help yourself if you’re hungry. It’s all starting to melt anyway. My name is Brian by the way. Let me know if you need anything.”
The Viking studied the bowls and the variety of colored cream in each one. A child came up to the table, grabbed a bowl of white cream with golden streaks running through it and scooped some into his mouth. “Whoo hoo!” The kid screamed as he threw up his hands and ran over to the ball pit.
Perhaps this is the source of the young ones’ fearlessness and tolerance to pain, thought Magnar. He grabbed a bowl of the same color cream the child had eaten, which contained salted caramel ice cream, and brought it right up to his mouth, practically inhaling the whole bowl at once. Magnar raised his head and shouted so loud the kids on the trampolines all fell down, “Odin’s Beard!! This is nectar straight from Valhalla! I must know how you make this so I can bring it to my tribe!”
Magnar had a thunderous voice and now everyone was watching. The parents thought, as Brian did, that he was hired entertainment for the party. The kids just thought he was funny and pretty awesome. Magnar grabbed another bowl and stuffed it right into his face once again. This time, however, he had a much different reaction.
The Norseman suddenly dropped the bowl and reared back, throwing off his helmet, howling loudly and grabbing both sides of his head.
“Brain Freeze!!” shouted all the kids as they pointed at Magnar. They all started laughing as the Icelandic invader jumped up and down screaming about Viking gods.
“What foul trick is this? I say this is the work of no other than Loki himself!”
After a moment or two Magnar calmed down as the brain freeze thawed. He approached Brian and asked him a question, “How can I make this nectar? It is so delicious and yet it causes such pain, it would be very valuable for raiding villages. My fellow warriors would instantly go into berserker mode with their heads filled with this ‘ice cream’.”
“Do you ever get out of character?” asked Brian. “I guess it doesn’t matter. The kids obviously love you after that show. Are you serious about making ice cream? The shop next door is actually for sale, and I am the agent selling the business. I could see if we could make an offer if you want to buy the shop?”
“Yes, I must have this power cream. I must know it’s secrets.”
“Ok, why don’t we walk over there after the party and you can check out the shop. It is closed now but I have the keys with me.”
The next day Brian was able to procure an owner financed deal, by which Magnar would payback the previous owners monthly, with his profits, until he owned the shop outright. Just like that, Magnar became the proud proprietor of The Frozen Horde: Creamery of Clans.
Magnar got to work right away. He learned all there was to know about making the ‘sweet nectar’ in all its many flavors. The former owners gave him training as part of the deal and he attacked his newfound venture like he was raiding a village at dawn.
In a matter of weeks the Viking had come up with his ice cream menu. It included more traditional flavors like chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, and of course his favorite, salted caramel. He had a version of this flavor that he called Odin’s Beard, which came in a waffle cone with two green M n M’s for eyes and a swath of fudge sprinkles beneath the M n M’s for a beard. His creativity was evident in the rest of the offerings at the shop: Pillaging Pistachio, Raspberry Berserker, Mint Ragnarok, a Loot and Root Beer float, and the Valhalla Vanilla split. This came complete with bananas, cherries, chocolate and caramel sauce, and a crunchy butterscoth topping mixed with golden sprinkles served in a bowl shaped like a Viking ship.
The decor of the shop also showed Magnar’s love for his heritage. The tables were made of sturdy oak with tree stumps for stools. Shields and double-headed axes lined the walls with fake torches for lighting. The toppings were arranged on a counter top and were offered in Viking horns. Everything about his place was true to his ancestry. Unfortunately, that ancestry included the new owner’s temper. While his flavors and presentation were truly spectacular, Magnar’s customer service would prove to be a different story.
It came time for the grand opening and Brian helped promote it in the neighborhood and social media. He hung a banner on the store front that read : ” Grand Opening Saturday, Come Raid our Rocky Road before its sold out!” Brian was also able to get a deal on a giant inflatable Viking holding a sugar cone that they were able to place on the roof of the building above the shop. Everything was going smoothly as the first customers were served their orders, with Magnar and Brian observing proudly from the back of the store.
“What a great start,” said Brian. “It looks like you really have a success on your hands. You may have to think about franchising.”
“If franchising means smashing the chariots of those peasants who ask for a ‘doggy bag’ then by Thor’s Golden Hammer, let us franchise right now! Every Viking knows it is an insult to the food maker if you do not gorge until you vomit!” Magnar then immediately went table to table, grabbing the leftovers from customers and stuffing them into his face. “This is the way to consume my nectars!” he shouted. Children laughed hysterically and imitated him with their own bowls of ice cream, stuffing sundaes and cones right into their faces. Magnar said, “You see, the young warriors understand, yes! Feast on my creations!”
While the kids were having a great time, many parents were not pleased, though most thought of it as part of the act and ambiance of the new ice cream shop. The next incident with Magnar didn’t result in any laughs from children, but quite a few tears.
A week went by and the shop continued to bring in many customers. It was a crowded Sunday afternoon, quite warm outside, and the shop was very crowded and the staff extremely busy. This included Magnar who was helping behind the counter. One child asked if there was a dairy free option for the Sea Serpent Sundae. This didn’t go over well.
Magnar shouted, “Frigg herself is cursing your belly for such a request! Make his sundae with our standard cream! Do it now and hand it to me.”
The employee did as she was told. Magnar took the finished sundae, pressed it into the boy’s face, who was now crying, and exclaimed, “Dairy-free is for weak bellied cowards! None who ask for it shall be served here while Magnar still breathes!” This resulted in not just a complaint but a lawsuit for assault of a minor with a dairy product and some poor one-star yelp reviews. Upon reading one negative review complaining about the overly aggressive and intimidating customer service and poor food hygiene by the confusingly shirtless and very hairy owner, Magnar rumbled, “Thor have mercy on this yellow tailed customer’s soul!” He proceeded to stomp into the parking lot and perform a storm dance, invoking the hammer god to “Rain bolts of lightning upon that man’s foul tongue.”
Magnar’s rowdy behavior didn’t stop at customer service. He viewed neighboring ice cream shops, including one child’s after school snow cone stand, as villages to be looted and plundered.
The nearest store was treated to a battleaxe hanging from its neon sign with the message, “Welcome to Magnarok” scrawled in chocolate fudge on the windows. This message became a sort of calling card as it started popping up plastered on not just ice cream shops but candy stores as well. The local news ran a story that was titled “Vigilante targets sweet treats, no sugar is safe.”
It all came to a head when a local boy set up a stand outside his home selling snow cones for $1 to raise money for his sister, who was trying to buy a new baseball glove to play on the school team. Magnar bought one of the treats, took one taste and threw it at the boy’s head. He proceeded to smash the table the boy had set up while accusing the kid of being “Loki’s minion” and calling for a city wide ban on any treats that didn’t contain creamy nectar of the gods. Magnar was arrested on the spot.
Brian bailed him out. A lawyer friend of his managed to get a reduced sentence from jail time for destruction of private property, to probation for vandalism. He was forced to publicly apologize to both the boy and his family, and buy the whole baseball team new gloves with his ice cream profits.
Brian encouraged Magnar to channel his rage into a healthier past time; competitive ice cream making. Magnar was so dedicated he won first prize in only his second contest with a sundae so epic it was voted number one unanimously. Served in a waffle cone shaped like a Viking horn and called the Plunder Thunder Triple Treat, it had an edible gold topping, ruby shaped frozen cherries, and of course, a river of salted caramel running down the center.
Magnar continued to win contests with creations inspired by his life as a Viking. He enjoyed displaying the awards in his shop, but he began to miss his Viking tribe and the looting and pillaging that was such a big part of his life. Eventually, his homesickness was reflected in his creamy creations.
Magnar’s next entry into a contest would prove to be his last. He called this one the Ballad of Bjorn. It had three scoops of vanilla piled on top of each other like a snowman to form a Viking. The eyes were red cinnamon candies with cherry juice flowing like tears from the eyes. A battle axe made from a waffle cone was held from one side of the body with more cherry juice splashed on the blade. At the feet of the ice cream Viking was what looked like a severed head, made from frozen yellow custard with red licorice for hair and sprinkles formed as the letter ‘X’ where the eyes would be. While the creation was delicious, one judge actually started to tear up. Magnar stood by his entry and every time a judge tried to taste it, he growled loudly and beat his chest with an ice cream scoop while pointing to the sky. This was one contest Magnar would not win.
The next day Brian stopped by the shop to check on the Viking. He found it empty except for a message written in caramel sauce on the main counter. It read : ‘Thank you for your assistance Brian, Heimdall himself could not have made a mightier bridge for me into this world. I must plunder a stony shore now.’ That was all he wrote.
Several months went by and while the customer service in town was generally more peaceful, the townspeople missed having Magnar around, especially his delicious ice cream creations. The children missed him most of all. Brian constantly got asked by kids passing him on the street when Magnar was coming back. Brian himself missed Magnar most of all. The inflatable Viking was left in parking lot of the strip mall where Magnar first appeared as a monument to him and his delicious concoctions.
One day as Brian walked down the street he approached a store window with a large crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front. People were pointing at the window and talking excitedly. It was an electronics store and Brian shimmied his way to the front where he could see what was happening. There was a television in the window with the local news tuned in. Brian was stunned to see Magnar himself being interviewed by a reporter on the cliffs of a stony outcropping. The headline on the TV picture said the location was in Scotland. The closed captioning read what Magnar was saying, “I came here to raid this puny village with my mighty hammer and I found I could not! My time making delicious treats using Valhalla’s salty nectar made me realize I am chosen by Odin himself to bring this food to many people. I thank the village I came from to inspire my creations. My new shop here will feed hordes of villagers and make them berzerk with freezing heads and frozen beards!”
The people reading the captions cheered at the sight of Magnar and the thought of him sharing his ice cream with a different country. Brian smiled. As Magnar finished speaking his last sentence he raised his hammer. Just then a brilliant flash filled the tv screen. When the picture came back into focus the place where Magnar had been standing was empty and smoking. The reporter simply shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. Brian and the townspeople looked at each other in disbelief. “What happened to the crazy ice cream man?” asked a small child.
The crowd dispersed as the news switched to another channel. The people talked for weeks about what could have happened to Magnar. On the one year anniversary of when Magnar appeared Brian threw a party at the strip mall where Magnar’s shop was and where he first appeared. Most of the town was there and his famous Valhalla Vanilla split was served to all who wanted one. A single ominous cloud rolled in over the mall. No rain came but after a few moments a single lightning bolt crashed down into the inflatable Viking and it burst into a smoky ruin. Brian wandered over as the cloud evaporated and looked at what was left of the giant blow up Viking. A huge smile broke across his face. On the ground where the lightning had struck there was an image burned into the pavement. It was the shape of a Viking horn, with what appeared to be a large scoop of ice cream sitting in the end.