So I’m tellin’ yah this all stahted way back in 872 when the king of Nahway, who was a real shit prick but a wicked good scrappah, was pickin’ fights all up n’ down the coast like he fuckin’ owned the place till finally he fuckin’ massahcred the othah team at Hafrsfjord n’ was like, “Hey, all yah Nahwegians, I’m gonna impose some hefty fuckin’ taxes on yah without yer reprahsentation ‘cause I don’t give half a lobstah’s ass about what yah all fuckin’ think, yah fuckin’ retahds. Yah fuckin’ lost, go fuck yahselves.”
So a’course that didn’t sit too well with the patriots who were still livin’ ovah there in Nahway at the time. They didn’t like that this lace curtain muthahfuckah was talkin’ tah ‘em like they weren’t worth a shit, so some of ‘em went n’ gotta buncha guys togethah n’ they went n’ threw a pahty down at Oslo Hahbah where they dressed up like a bunchah fuckin’ Indians n’ dumped a shitloadah tea right there intah the wahtah. Now at the same time, othah Nahwegian pats, they were busy stockpilin’ munitions up in Trondheim on the north sho’ gettin’ ready fah anothah match, but the odds were stacked heavily against ‘em since they lost their captain to an injuhed knee. Now Nahway was fullah guys that were only just faihrweathah pats sahppohrtahs n’ they were thinkin’ that there weren’t no way the pats could make a comeback, so they were throwin’ their hands up in the aihr sayin’, “The othah team’s fullah fuckin’ Brahmin rat bastahds n’ they’re gonna fuckin’ crush us up in Trondie n’ aftahwahds they ain’t gonna stop encroachin’ on our libahties till we’re fuckin’ stahved outta house n’ heahrth, but there’s this nice, little piece a land out there ‘cross the wahtah where we could go n’ fahm in some fuckin’ peace n’ quiet.” N’ so that’s why alottah Nahwegians made the pilgrimage on ’cross the wahtah where they then set up the Commonwealthah Iceland.
So there they were, Icelandahs now, n’ they’re fahmin’ n’ they’re fishin’ n’ they’re sometimes feud’n with eachothah n’ the years go by till ‘roundabout 982 when one of ’em goes into an Irish pub ovah in Breidafjord. Now this guy’s name’s Erik the Red n’ he’s a real fuckin’ piece a’wohrk. So he’s sitting there in the bahr, knockin’ back his pintsah Sam Adams like he ain’t gonna fuckin’ live tah see tomahrrah n’ so a’course he gets real fuckin’ hammah’d. I’m talkin’ fuckin’ hammah’d outtah his fuckin’ mind, ‘cause next thing he does is he goes fuckin’ nuts n’ kills some poor bastahds in a brawl. So the Thohrsnes Town Meeting gets wohrdah this fuckin’ mess n’ they react like it’s the biggest fuckin’ disastah tah happin’ since the fohrced bussin’ riots, so they fuckin’ banish the crazy sonah bitch from the Commonwealth fah fuckin’ like three years n’ ask him how he likes them apples.
Now Erik, he’s all like, “I don’t give a fuckin’ shit, yah fuckin’ pricks, I don’t need yah anyway ‘cause I hear there’s this fuckin’ beautiful land out there even farthuh tah the west where nobody even lives, so I’m gonnah sail on ovah there n’ fuckin’ claim it fah myself.” N’ this was true ‘cause this guy Gunnbjorn, he’d been talkin’ all about how he got blown off a’course one time n’ saw some uninhabited land out there somewheres.
So next thing Erik does is he fuckin’ climbs his topsails n’ ships on up tah Brattahlid tah find his fuckin’ land. He spends the next three years sailin’ allovah the place, n’ when he finally goes back to Iceland he mahches right on intah that Irish pub in Breidafjord n’ says, “Alright yah shitbrains, I found that fuckin’ beautiful land where noone even lives like I told yah I would. I’m callin’ it Greenland ‘cause it’s one fuckin’ giant green monstah of pictuh perfect pastuh land fah yer fahmin’ n’ the grazin’ah yer cattle ‘n there ain’t even a fuckin’ toll-road in sight. So I’m gonnah go on back ovah there n’ take what I want n’ anyone that wants to come with me fah some free land is welcome tah come along.”
N’ that’s exactly what happened. Lotsah Icelandahs followed Erik on back ovah tah Greenland where they fahmed n’ fished fah like 500 years before they all died off, which was fuckin’ tragic.