The Small Council is meeting at the same time as the Tournament. Mandy Moore guards the door.
Mandy Moore: Hey! HEY! You can't come in here! Cersei left orders that it not be disturb--
And yet the door bursts open anyway, with Tyrion barging in. He's got Bronn, Timett, Macho Man and others with him. So Mandy doesn't really stand a chance in stopping them.
Tyrion: Oh, don't worry. It will just be a little disturbance.
Mandy Moore: Didn't you just use that "little" joke with Sansa one page ago with the "little lion" joke?
Tyrion: ...maybe? What's it to you, you little fucking Genie in a Bottle.
Mandy Moore: That's not even right. That's a Christina Aguilera song.
Cersei: TYRION!? What the hell are you doing here?
Tyrion: Oh, shitty little Joffrey said the same thing to be 10 minutes ago. I can see where he learned his manners. I'm here to deliver this!!!
He hands over a sheet of paper, with their father's seal on it.
Cersei: WTF?! This says that you're the Hand of the King! What a load of horseshit!
Varys: I'm afraid the seal and writing does appear to be legitimate, my Queen.
Cersei: King Joffrey gave orders that father be the Hand of the King! Not you!
Tyrion: Well, our father then appointed me as Hand after he was appointed. It's called "Managing Down," and is a valid business model for completing projects on time and within budget. It also shows that a manager has trust in his employees and is willing for them to complete tasks without hovering or micromanagement.
Pycelle: Well, I welcome you back Tyrion, and am glad to see you well.
Janos Slynt: Yes, we need a Hand of the King to help us in the small council. You must help us deal with this rioting happening in the streets and this grim omen in the sky.
Tyrion: What? You mean the comet? Well, I hear that it's a sign that means--
Cersei: --OH GOD, NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN.
Several Minutes Later...
Tyrion: ...a process called "outgassing." This produces a visible atmosphere or "coma," and ofttimes also a tail. These phenomena are due to the effects of solar radiation and the solar wind acting upon the nucleus of the comet.
Cersei: There. Are we done now?
Tyrion: Yes.
Cersei: Good. Slynt--you're in charge of the fucking city watch. You're supposed to be the one taking care of the riots in the streets, not the Hand of the King. Tyrion would serve us much better on the battlefield, I think. Oh, have I heard of your bravery...
Tyrion: Hahaha, nice try getting me killed bitch. No thanks. My time at war is done. Now I want to sit down and enjoy the finer things in life. Mainly wine and vagina.
Littlefinger: A man after my own heart!
Tyrion: Ah, Littlefinger. Good to see you too! By the way. We have to talk about this "dagger" thing. You know. That dagger that was used to try to kill Bran Stark and you told Cat that it was mine.
Littlefinger: *nervously backs away and whistles*
Cersei: And why have you only come with a few hundred men/pro wrestlers? I wanted an army to come and protect Kings Landing! Stannis or Renly could attack at any time! This is, I repeat, horseshit. Only Joffrey can name the Hand and I want daddy!
Tyrion: Yeah, how about you head up to Harrenhal and debate that with daddy then.
Cersei: *grumble*
Tyrion: Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need a few private words with m sweet sister.
Littlefinger: Very well. Please let us know if there is any service we can provide you, Lord Hand.
Tyrion: Oh yeah, you can help by starting to move all my shit into the Tower of the Hand. You know, what with me being the Hand and all.
Littlefinger: Bold move. I think I'd rather be in the dungeon than in the Tower of the Hand. You know what happened to the last, like, two hands... right?
Tyrion: Two? Fuck man... the last FOUR, you should mean. Last was Ned Stark - beheaded. Before him was Jon Arryn - poisoned. But before him was that pyromancer Rossart, Aerys II Targaryen's final Hand. My brother Jaime killed him when he was trying to carry out the Mad King's orders to burn the city down with Wildfire. And Rossart was a replacement for Qarlton Chelsted, who the Mad King burned alive because he was, like, just bored and felt like he could. At least the two guys before those were lucky enough to die penniless in exile.
Varys: Ah yes, I think one of those two people you are referring to is Jon Connington. He is most definitely dead for sure. If you hear any, at all, rumors that he is still alive and living under the guise as a man named "Griff" in Essos... you should ignore those rumors. Especially if those rumors also include any mention of him being involved with me in a secret plot to restore the Targaryen line to the throne. Because that's crazy talk. He's dead!
Tyrion: Okay, fair enough. Now GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, ALL OF YOU!
They leave. It's just Cersei and Tyrion.
Cersei: Ugh, why would father ignore my orders and inflict you upon me?
Tyrion: Because he has a big army and therefore has the power to do so.
Cersei: POWER IS POWER!
Tyrion: Huh?
Cersei: Oh, sorry. Just something from the TV show. I should declare the letter a forgery and throw you in a dungeon.
Tyrion: Why would you want to do so when I'm here to help? I'm here to get shit in order and find a way to get Jaime out of Tully prison.
Cersei: What?! Free Jaime?! How?!
Tyrion: Well, we still have those Stark girls, right? We can trade them.
Cersei: Errrrmmm... we have one of them. That little one we lost. She's probably dead in some alley somewhere.
Tyrion: That sucks. Anyway... do you think we can trust this small council? Father doesn't. Joffrey keeps fucking up shit and he thinks that he's getting terrible advice. Like that whole "execute Ned Stark" thing. What a major fuck up.
Cersei: Yeah, I wish I could blame these morons for that, but we all advised him against it. Well, except that sadistic fuck Janos Slynt. In the end though, that was all Joffrey.
Tyrion: Yeah, what the fuck is up with Slynt being named Lord of Harrenhal? Dad thinks that's a terrible idea.
Cersei: Littlefinger. We needed the gold cloaks on our side because Ned was trying to hand the kingdom over to Stannis. I learned about it because that snitch Sansa ratted out her own dad to me.
Tyrion: That girl is fuckin' dumb.
Cersei: Yeup.
Tyrion: Hey, I also hear that it was Varys who called for Selmy to be removed from the Council. You know that was a giant fuckup too, right? Not only did he kill Slynt's incompetant city guards and escape... but the action turned the smallfolk against you. Selmy is a living legend, yo. Disgracing him will not make the kingdom love you. And him escaping only makes is legend grow bigged.
Cersei: Shit, I didn't think of that.
Tyrion: Of course your dumb ass didn't, which is why dad sent me. I am going to get Joffrey's shit in order.
Cersei: Please, if Joffrey won't listen to me then he won't listen to you either.
Tyrion: Hahaha. With you he has nothing to fear because he knows you're a Liberal White Woman who thinks punishing your snowflake children is abuse. But he knows I am willing to beat the living shit out of him.
Cersei: NO! MY PRECIOUS SNOWFLAKE!
Tyrion: Don't worry, I only mean to THREATEN him. Not actually do it. Probably. Now... about this killing Jon Arryn shit. Who did that?
Cersei: How the hell would I know? Wait... this seems like some sort of interrogation. Why do you keep asking me questions?
Tyrion: Come on, you can admit it now. Everybody knows it's because you and Jaime were having sex and Joffrey is your love child. It's really surprising that he didn't come out with flipper arms.
Cersei slaps Tyrion.
Tyrion: And Robert... ah yeah, Robert died too. How did you pull that one off?
Cersei: Oh please. That fat fuck loves wine and I just had Lancel give him it until he drunkenly got killed by the boar. I then ate that boar at a feast and it tasted like victory. So sweet. And with excellent fat marbling. You know, pork really is the other white meat.
Tyrion: Well, I think I found out enough about everything I needed to learn. Peace out!
Tyrion starts to leave.
Cersei: HEY! Get your ass back here! I didn't give you permission to leave. You told me you were going to free Jaime. Tell me how!
Tyrion: You'll be the first to know... once I figure it out.
Tyrion skates and joins his barbarian and sellsword friends.
Tyrion: WHAT THE HELL?! Where did Timett and the Macho Man go?
Bronn: Ah, out exploring the city. You know how these savages are.
Tyrion: Because that sounds like a good idea. Having barbarians enter a large metropolitan area for the first time without understanding anything about how things work in civlization. And YOU - over there!!! Yeah, you! Take down Ned Stark's head from the spikes above the Red Keep and have it delivered to the silent sisters of the sept.
Vylarr, Captain of Cersei’s House Guard: No way. King Joffrey ordered it to stay up there.
Tyrion: And I'm the Hand of the King and I say fucking take it down. You are a Lannister soldier, are you not? That means you obey ALL Lannisters, not just Cersei. Better do it or I'll add another head to the spike.
Vylarr: Oh, well that doesn't seem bad. I think Joffrey would actually like more heads. He's a sick fuck.
Tyrion: *sigh*... I think the implication I was trying to put forward, while still trying to be a little subtle about it, was that the additional head would be YOURS.
Vylarr: Ahhhh.... ooooooooooh. Okay. I get it, now. Yeah. Okay. Okay. That was good... good one there, Tyrion. That head is coming down ASAP, sir. Like... Right. Fucking. Now.
Satisfied, Tyrion rides off to the Broken Anvil Inn. Along the way, he sees just how shitty condition the city is in.
Tyrion: Da fuq?
Vylarr: Ah, you know how it is. War happening so we can't get supplies into the city. No wheat... no bread. People are starving. There is price gouging. People are stealing so crime is up. Because crime is up we've tripled the city watch and so that costs a lot and the crown is running out of money. To add to that, Cersei has ordered all sorts of wildfire to be made by the Alchemist's Guild to help protect the city. To make up for the fact that we're running out of money, Littlefinger has raised taxes and now it costs money for anyone to even enter the city. Thousands of refugees are trying to get in but they can't afford it. So there are all sorts of needy, foodless, begging people huddled outside trying to sneak in. Which means we NEED more guards which means we need more money which means we need more taxes. Sort of a vicious circle.
Tyrion: That is the SECOND time wildfire has been mentioned in this chapter, Vlyarr. What the hell is up with that?
Vylarr: Well, it's called a "Chekhov's gun," Lord Tyrion.
Tyrion: What?
Vylarr: You know... a Chekhov's gun!
Tyrion: I'm still not following.
Vylarr: Ya see... it's a dramatic principle which states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements should not appear to make "false promises" by never coming into play. Anton Chekhov, the Russian playwright, once said, "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."
Tyrion: So what you're saying is that all of a sudden we're now talking about wildfire a whole lot in this early part of the story because wildfire will, at some later part of the story, become a large and important factor.
Vylarr: Exactly, Lord Tyrion. Exactly. OH LOOK, we're here at the Broken Anvil Inn. Just in time!
Tyrion: Ah thank you, Vlyarr. You don't have to follow me in though. Because I'm here to fuck a whore and you don't really need to stick around.
Vylarr: How many teeth does she have, ser?
Tyrion: Huh?
Vylarr: It's an important distinction.
Tyrion: Oh. Well, all of her teeth. I think.
Vylarr: Then she's not a "whore," ser. She's an "escort."
Tyrion: Fair enough.
Tyrion goes in to bang Shae but finds someone else in the Inn too.
Varys: Hi there!
Tyrion: WHAT THE FUCK?! How the hell did you find out about Shae so quickly?
Varys: It's the entire point of my character. Every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Why even mention that I'm a master spy that knows everything if I'm not going to cryptically pop up and do shit like this?
Tyrion: Ah right. Checkhov's gun.
Varys: What?
Tyrion: Nevermind. The hell do you want?
Varys: Oh, nothing. Just sending you a message that I know everything that happens and if I want to expose you, I can expose you. Hey... did you see that comet?
Tyrion: Yes. We already had a conversation about the comet earlier in the chapter. I'm short, not blind. Please don't make me do the comet theories running joke again.
Varys: Ah... and there is one last thing. I also came here to pose you a riddle! Three men walk into a bar - a priest, a king and a rich man. In the bar is a sellsword. Each of the three men tell the sellsword to kill the other two men. The priest says "do it because Jesus says so," the king says "do it because I command you as your king,"and the rich man says, "do it and I will make you rich." So tell me... who lives and who di--
Tyrion: --The rich man lives.
Varys: No, no. It's suppsoed to be a difficult riddle. You're not supposed to quickly answer it. You need to think deeply about it and--
Tyrion: --The rich man. Easy. Done. Not a very good riddle.
Varys: No! It's quite complex actually. You see, it plays upon deep, philosophical questions about the nature of power and--
Tyrion: --Rich man. The selllsword is a sellsword. Let me break that down for you. First part: "Sell." That means to provide a good or service in exchange for money. The second part: "Sword." That is an object which you use to kill people. The description of the sellsword job title is literally that they sell their sword to whoeever pays them. Two men in this scenario are not offering to pay him. One man is. You are awful at riddles, Varys.
Varys: Okay, let's mix it up then. Instead of being a sellsword, we'll just make him a regular solider. Who does the soldier--
Tyrion: --The rich man. Still the rich man. Always the rich man. The rich man always lives. Cash Rules Everything Around Me. C.R.E.A.M. You want something in life... it's going to cost money.
Varys: You know, fuck it. I'm leaving.
Varys leaves.
Tyrion: Finally, some alone time!
Shae: Indeed. Quite apropos that you just had a conversation about the need to pay money as you're about to have sex with a whore.
Tyrion: Hahaha, indeed. But I learned something new today. You're not a whore. After all, you have all your teeth and you also use fancy words like, "apropos." You are an escort.
Shae: Oooh, fancy!
They do it.
Mandy Moore: Hey! HEY! You can't come in here! Cersei left orders that it not be disturb--
And yet the door bursts open anyway, with Tyrion barging in. He's got Bronn, Timett, Macho Man and others with him. So Mandy doesn't really stand a chance in stopping them.
Tyrion: Oh, don't worry. It will just be a little disturbance.
Mandy Moore: Didn't you just use that "little" joke with Sansa one page ago with the "little lion" joke?
Tyrion: ...maybe? What's it to you, you little fucking Genie in a Bottle.
Mandy Moore: That's not even right. That's a Christina Aguilera song.
Cersei: TYRION!? What the hell are you doing here?
Tyrion: Oh, shitty little Joffrey said the same thing to be 10 minutes ago. I can see where he learned his manners. I'm here to deliver this!!!
He hands over a sheet of paper, with their father's seal on it.
Cersei: WTF?! This says that you're the Hand of the King! What a load of horseshit!
Varys: I'm afraid the seal and writing does appear to be legitimate, my Queen.
Cersei: King Joffrey gave orders that father be the Hand of the King! Not you!
Tyrion: Well, our father then appointed me as Hand after he was appointed. It's called "Managing Down," and is a valid business model for completing projects on time and within budget. It also shows that a manager has trust in his employees and is willing for them to complete tasks without hovering or micromanagement.
Pycelle: Well, I welcome you back Tyrion, and am glad to see you well.
Janos Slynt: Yes, we need a Hand of the King to help us in the small council. You must help us deal with this rioting happening in the streets and this grim omen in the sky.
Tyrion: What? You mean the comet? Well, I hear that it's a sign that means--
Cersei: --OH GOD, NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN.
Several Minutes Later...
Tyrion: ...a process called "outgassing." This produces a visible atmosphere or "coma," and ofttimes also a tail. These phenomena are due to the effects of solar radiation and the solar wind acting upon the nucleus of the comet.
Cersei: There. Are we done now?
Tyrion: Yes.
Cersei: Good. Slynt--you're in charge of the fucking city watch. You're supposed to be the one taking care of the riots in the streets, not the Hand of the King. Tyrion would serve us much better on the battlefield, I think. Oh, have I heard of your bravery...
Tyrion: Hahaha, nice try getting me killed bitch. No thanks. My time at war is done. Now I want to sit down and enjoy the finer things in life. Mainly wine and vagina.
Littlefinger: A man after my own heart!
Tyrion: Ah, Littlefinger. Good to see you too! By the way. We have to talk about this "dagger" thing. You know. That dagger that was used to try to kill Bran Stark and you told Cat that it was mine.
Littlefinger: *nervously backs away and whistles*
Cersei: And why have you only come with a few hundred men/pro wrestlers? I wanted an army to come and protect Kings Landing! Stannis or Renly could attack at any time! This is, I repeat, horseshit. Only Joffrey can name the Hand and I want daddy!
Tyrion: Yeah, how about you head up to Harrenhal and debate that with daddy then.
Cersei: *grumble*
Tyrion: Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need a few private words with m sweet sister.
Littlefinger: Very well. Please let us know if there is any service we can provide you, Lord Hand.
Tyrion: Oh yeah, you can help by starting to move all my shit into the Tower of the Hand. You know, what with me being the Hand and all.
Littlefinger: Bold move. I think I'd rather be in the dungeon than in the Tower of the Hand. You know what happened to the last, like, two hands... right?
Tyrion: Two? Fuck man... the last FOUR, you should mean. Last was Ned Stark - beheaded. Before him was Jon Arryn - poisoned. But before him was that pyromancer Rossart, Aerys II Targaryen's final Hand. My brother Jaime killed him when he was trying to carry out the Mad King's orders to burn the city down with Wildfire. And Rossart was a replacement for Qarlton Chelsted, who the Mad King burned alive because he was, like, just bored and felt like he could. At least the two guys before those were lucky enough to die penniless in exile.
Varys: Ah yes, I think one of those two people you are referring to is Jon Connington. He is most definitely dead for sure. If you hear any, at all, rumors that he is still alive and living under the guise as a man named "Griff" in Essos... you should ignore those rumors. Especially if those rumors also include any mention of him being involved with me in a secret plot to restore the Targaryen line to the throne. Because that's crazy talk. He's dead!
Tyrion: Okay, fair enough. Now GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, ALL OF YOU!
They leave. It's just Cersei and Tyrion.
Cersei: Ugh, why would father ignore my orders and inflict you upon me?
Tyrion: Because he has a big army and therefore has the power to do so.
Cersei: POWER IS POWER!
Tyrion: Huh?
Cersei: Oh, sorry. Just something from the TV show. I should declare the letter a forgery and throw you in a dungeon.
Tyrion: Why would you want to do so when I'm here to help? I'm here to get shit in order and find a way to get Jaime out of Tully prison.
Cersei: What?! Free Jaime?! How?!
Tyrion: Well, we still have those Stark girls, right? We can trade them.
Cersei: Errrrmmm... we have one of them. That little one we lost. She's probably dead in some alley somewhere.
Tyrion: That sucks. Anyway... do you think we can trust this small council? Father doesn't. Joffrey keeps fucking up shit and he thinks that he's getting terrible advice. Like that whole "execute Ned Stark" thing. What a major fuck up.
Cersei: Yeah, I wish I could blame these morons for that, but we all advised him against it. Well, except that sadistic fuck Janos Slynt. In the end though, that was all Joffrey.
Tyrion: Yeah, what the fuck is up with Slynt being named Lord of Harrenhal? Dad thinks that's a terrible idea.
Cersei: Littlefinger. We needed the gold cloaks on our side because Ned was trying to hand the kingdom over to Stannis. I learned about it because that snitch Sansa ratted out her own dad to me.
Tyrion: That girl is fuckin' dumb.
Cersei: Yeup.
Tyrion: Hey, I also hear that it was Varys who called for Selmy to be removed from the Council. You know that was a giant fuckup too, right? Not only did he kill Slynt's incompetant city guards and escape... but the action turned the smallfolk against you. Selmy is a living legend, yo. Disgracing him will not make the kingdom love you. And him escaping only makes is legend grow bigged.
Cersei: Shit, I didn't think of that.
Tyrion: Of course your dumb ass didn't, which is why dad sent me. I am going to get Joffrey's shit in order.
Cersei: Please, if Joffrey won't listen to me then he won't listen to you either.
Tyrion: Hahaha. With you he has nothing to fear because he knows you're a Liberal White Woman who thinks punishing your snowflake children is abuse. But he knows I am willing to beat the living shit out of him.
Cersei: NO! MY PRECIOUS SNOWFLAKE!
Tyrion: Don't worry, I only mean to THREATEN him. Not actually do it. Probably. Now... about this killing Jon Arryn shit. Who did that?
Cersei: How the hell would I know? Wait... this seems like some sort of interrogation. Why do you keep asking me questions?
Tyrion: Come on, you can admit it now. Everybody knows it's because you and Jaime were having sex and Joffrey is your love child. It's really surprising that he didn't come out with flipper arms.
Cersei slaps Tyrion.
Tyrion: And Robert... ah yeah, Robert died too. How did you pull that one off?
Cersei: Oh please. That fat fuck loves wine and I just had Lancel give him it until he drunkenly got killed by the boar. I then ate that boar at a feast and it tasted like victory. So sweet. And with excellent fat marbling. You know, pork really is the other white meat.
Tyrion: Well, I think I found out enough about everything I needed to learn. Peace out!
Tyrion starts to leave.
Cersei: HEY! Get your ass back here! I didn't give you permission to leave. You told me you were going to free Jaime. Tell me how!
Tyrion: You'll be the first to know... once I figure it out.
Tyrion skates and joins his barbarian and sellsword friends.
Tyrion: WHAT THE HELL?! Where did Timett and the Macho Man go?
Bronn: Ah, out exploring the city. You know how these savages are.
Tyrion: Because that sounds like a good idea. Having barbarians enter a large metropolitan area for the first time without understanding anything about how things work in civlization. And YOU - over there!!! Yeah, you! Take down Ned Stark's head from the spikes above the Red Keep and have it delivered to the silent sisters of the sept.
Vylarr, Captain of Cersei’s House Guard: No way. King Joffrey ordered it to stay up there.
Tyrion: And I'm the Hand of the King and I say fucking take it down. You are a Lannister soldier, are you not? That means you obey ALL Lannisters, not just Cersei. Better do it or I'll add another head to the spike.
Vylarr: Oh, well that doesn't seem bad. I think Joffrey would actually like more heads. He's a sick fuck.
Tyrion: *sigh*... I think the implication I was trying to put forward, while still trying to be a little subtle about it, was that the additional head would be YOURS.
Vylarr: Ahhhh.... ooooooooooh. Okay. I get it, now. Yeah. Okay. Okay. That was good... good one there, Tyrion. That head is coming down ASAP, sir. Like... Right. Fucking. Now.
Satisfied, Tyrion rides off to the Broken Anvil Inn. Along the way, he sees just how shitty condition the city is in.
Tyrion: Da fuq?
Vylarr: Ah, you know how it is. War happening so we can't get supplies into the city. No wheat... no bread. People are starving. There is price gouging. People are stealing so crime is up. Because crime is up we've tripled the city watch and so that costs a lot and the crown is running out of money. To add to that, Cersei has ordered all sorts of wildfire to be made by the Alchemist's Guild to help protect the city. To make up for the fact that we're running out of money, Littlefinger has raised taxes and now it costs money for anyone to even enter the city. Thousands of refugees are trying to get in but they can't afford it. So there are all sorts of needy, foodless, begging people huddled outside trying to sneak in. Which means we NEED more guards which means we need more money which means we need more taxes. Sort of a vicious circle.
Tyrion: That is the SECOND time wildfire has been mentioned in this chapter, Vlyarr. What the hell is up with that?
Vylarr: Well, it's called a "Chekhov's gun," Lord Tyrion.
Tyrion: What?
Vylarr: You know... a Chekhov's gun!
Tyrion: I'm still not following.
Vylarr: Ya see... it's a dramatic principle which states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements should not appear to make "false promises" by never coming into play. Anton Chekhov, the Russian playwright, once said, "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."
Tyrion: So what you're saying is that all of a sudden we're now talking about wildfire a whole lot in this early part of the story because wildfire will, at some later part of the story, become a large and important factor.
Vylarr: Exactly, Lord Tyrion. Exactly. OH LOOK, we're here at the Broken Anvil Inn. Just in time!
Tyrion: Ah thank you, Vlyarr. You don't have to follow me in though. Because I'm here to fuck a whore and you don't really need to stick around.
Vylarr: How many teeth does she have, ser?
Tyrion: Huh?
Vylarr: It's an important distinction.
Tyrion: Oh. Well, all of her teeth. I think.
Vylarr: Then she's not a "whore," ser. She's an "escort."
Tyrion: Fair enough.
Tyrion goes in to bang Shae but finds someone else in the Inn too.
Varys: Hi there!
Tyrion: WHAT THE FUCK?! How the hell did you find out about Shae so quickly?
Varys: It's the entire point of my character. Every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Why even mention that I'm a master spy that knows everything if I'm not going to cryptically pop up and do shit like this?
Tyrion: Ah right. Checkhov's gun.
Varys: What?
Tyrion: Nevermind. The hell do you want?
Varys: Oh, nothing. Just sending you a message that I know everything that happens and if I want to expose you, I can expose you. Hey... did you see that comet?
Tyrion: Yes. We already had a conversation about the comet earlier in the chapter. I'm short, not blind. Please don't make me do the comet theories running joke again.
Varys: Ah... and there is one last thing. I also came here to pose you a riddle! Three men walk into a bar - a priest, a king and a rich man. In the bar is a sellsword. Each of the three men tell the sellsword to kill the other two men. The priest says "do it because Jesus says so," the king says "do it because I command you as your king,"and the rich man says, "do it and I will make you rich." So tell me... who lives and who di--
Tyrion: --The rich man lives.
Varys: No, no. It's suppsoed to be a difficult riddle. You're not supposed to quickly answer it. You need to think deeply about it and--
Tyrion: --The rich man. Easy. Done. Not a very good riddle.
Varys: No! It's quite complex actually. You see, it plays upon deep, philosophical questions about the nature of power and--
Tyrion: --Rich man. The selllsword is a sellsword. Let me break that down for you. First part: "Sell." That means to provide a good or service in exchange for money. The second part: "Sword." That is an object which you use to kill people. The description of the sellsword job title is literally that they sell their sword to whoeever pays them. Two men in this scenario are not offering to pay him. One man is. You are awful at riddles, Varys.
Varys: Okay, let's mix it up then. Instead of being a sellsword, we'll just make him a regular solider. Who does the soldier--
Tyrion: --The rich man. Still the rich man. Always the rich man. The rich man always lives. Cash Rules Everything Around Me. C.R.E.A.M. You want something in life... it's going to cost money.
Varys: You know, fuck it. I'm leaving.
Varys leaves.
Tyrion: Finally, some alone time!
Shae: Indeed. Quite apropos that you just had a conversation about the need to pay money as you're about to have sex with a whore.
Tyrion: Hahaha, indeed. But I learned something new today. You're not a whore. After all, you have all your teeth and you also use fancy words like, "apropos." You are an escort.
Shae: Oooh, fancy!
They do it.
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