The question of who would win in a battle between archetypal opponents is one that has prompted much discussion among learned scholars. Even as we speak, somebody somewhere is debating the outcome of a fight between a pirate and a ninja, or a werewolf and a vampire, or King Kong and Godzilla, or Ronald McDonald and that plastic-faced Burger King bloke who somehow manages to be more disturbing than the stickily-grinning milkshake-shilling clown.
Er, yes. And now, here's a brand new theoretical punch-up question for you all to ponder: Who would win in a fight between a cider-swilling haybale-hurling country bumpkin and a pillage-happy unfeasibly hairy Norse warrior?
I myself remain undecided, but if the above image is anything to go by, you might feel inclined to put your money on the beardy one with the mean right cross.
This pen-and-ink illo was drawn for a chap by the name of Jack Chamberlain, and features two characters from a story he's writing about a weird and wonderful wrestling federation that pits fighters from different eras (and even different parts of the galaxy) against one another. The guy on the left is a belligerent bar-brawling farmhand who goes by the in-ring name of Mangler Wurzel, and the chap delivering a knuckle supper is Olaf Thundersson, an 11th century viking warchief who is evidently rather cross at having been plucked from his longboat and transported through time to take part in a wrestling tournament. We can but hope the federation has a good dental plan.
Mr Chamberlain does, of course, possess the copyright of both the burly bruisers depicted here. Any attempt at infringement will be met with a cry of "For Odin!" and an axe in the clavicle.