[ WP ] You were a soldier in a future conflict , until your heroic death . Now you face the battlefield of the Ragnarok of Nordic myth , with your full war kit .

After having died while jumping out of a helicopter using dual pistols with explosive rounds to kill 100 zombies before being swallowed by a thermonuclear inferno, I awoke in this cold reality to find myself in the midst of an epic battle between conflicting creatures of lore from throughout human history. 
 
 I landed with a thud in the midst of a grueling battle, and none of the creatures seemed to pay any heed to me. I used this time to reflect on my current situation. I had always identified with western mythology, so I guess I should go with- AHH. A pack of wild leprechauns had decided to jump me while my guard was down, they appeared to be trying to insert gold coins into my orifices and I was not down for it. I grabbed one off my back, threw it on the ground, pulled out my pistol, and blasted a clip at the ground, dancing to avoid shooting my foot. I was not successful, and I seemed to have shot both my feet at least once. 
 
 The leprechauns retreated, but I was out two feet. `` YOU LITTLE BASTARDS'' I screamed at them, aggravated that a foe worse than nazi zombies existed. A bright light flashed, a wicked guitar solo filled the air, and none other than Jimi Hendrix himself materialized in front of me. I had no idea who this was, because in the future we only listen to dubstep trap music. ONLY. 
 
 `` It's all good man, love is what you need, peace in your soul brother. War is n't the way, your better than that mannn'' said Mr. Hendrix, as he healed me and handed me an electric guitar. `` Let the music flow through your soul, play a jam brother'' he muttered as he faded away again. 
 
 I looked at the electric guitar, confused because I had only listened to awful dubstep songs my whole life. I knew what he meant. War was n't for me. `` I BELONG IN VALHALLA!!'' I screamed as I leapt onto the back of a minotaur and proceeded to beat the guitar over his head. On the back of his head I could see the rest of the battle, and at the other side was a white door with a picture of a naked woman on the front. What ensued next was the greatest slaughter of miniature mythological creatures the alternate dimensions have ever seen. 
 
 I walked through the door, bloody guitar strings in hand ( the majority of Jimi Hendrix's legendary guitar was lodged in the skulls of various butchered leprechauns ), and I entered a small, white circular room surrounded by small TV screens. A man in a white suit sat in a white chair in the middle. He started speaking in a very condescending way, `` John, welcome to the matrix. It seems you have broken the cycle and open-'' but before he could finish I screamed `` WHERE IS VALHALLA'' and I rushed him with my guitar strings. 
 
 After choking this self-righteous prick out, I walked up to one of the TV screens and lines of code began to run down the screen. I had never learned even basic coding, according to the history books we were not allowed to learn coding because of a US president 100 years ago named Obama. `` CURSE YOU OBAMA!'' I yelled in anger. Then the room started to turn black, but it did n't go full black because of racism so it decided to go with a neutral grey shade. The it the room turned into space, upside down, on top of an ocean of reverse waterfalls that were reverse in proportion to the western hemisphere. 
 
 `` CURRRRRSE YOUUUUU OBAMAAAAAAA'' I yelled as I twirled off into the endless void of reverse space waterfalls somewhere over the mountains of Brazil.
