How Sigurd Buesson made use of his long hair, after the battle of Hjörungavágr, to save himself (and a few other prisoners) from execution.
When the Bulgar Gold is divided among the crew and several of them go catatonic because they are literally mathematically unable to calculate how rich they have become.
A meta example: In the early 40s, a Norwegian publisher bought the translation rights and, being under Nazi occupation at the time, asked if they could make some "deletions and corrections" (most obviously, Orm's friendship with a Jew). Bengtsson's reply:
I will allow neither a single comma nor a single Jew to be removed from the book (...) I completely refuse to be translated into Norwegian until these criminally insane cretins have stopped working in publishing there, and preferably stopped doing everything else as well.
And when a publisher in the similarly occupied Prague asked to do the same:
May the fires of Sodom and Gomorra wash clean a world in which these ideas are born from the incest of villains and idiots.