ACoK 8: Tyrion II

Tyrion is having dinner with Janos Slynt, the new Lord of Harrenhal and the guy who sold out Ned Stark by having his City Watch side with Cersei.

The meal is a lavish one, and Tyrion has spared to expense. Especially on the alcohol side of things. Janos is getting ABSOLUTELY SHITFACED.

Janos: Oh man, this is good shtuff! This musht be a Pinot Noir... not one of those shhitty Merlots! Sho good.

Tyrion: Look bitch, I know the picture of you on A Wiki of Ice and Fire looks exactly like Paul Giamatti, but I don't need this pretentious "Sideways" wine snob shit from you. Everybody knows that all wines taste exactly the same and all the people who claim to be able to tell the difference between different regions and grape types are lying. It all tastes exactly the same with the only exception of amount of sugar in it. Time and time again, blind taste testing by supposed wine "experts" and sommeliers  have proven that they are totally unable to identify specific wines or re-rate the wines they previously claimed were the best over other wines they said were inferior. This is due to the natural human biases where they hype up certain wines just because of their geographic origin, price, reputation, etc. Once you withhold that information, which informs their prejudices, they generally cannot accurately ID and rate those reputational wines. In one study, a statistical analysis of best-to-worst rankings of 18 wines by a roster of "experienced tasters" in a blind taste test showed about as much consistency as a table of random numbers. In fact, some tests have been done when they switched wine bottles to put a cheap table wine in a famous, expensive wine's bottle and an expensive wine into a cheap table wine's bottle. And you know what the experts did when they were allowed to see the bottles and select the better wines? They said the one in the famous, expensive bottle tasted better even though it was the table wine.

Janos: Wow, geezsh. Shorry I found your pet peeve. Jusht let me have shome more wine.

Tyrion pours him more wine.

Tyrion: You know, you're a bold man to take over Harrenhal. That place is cursed.

Janos: *hiccup* Shupershtition. Thatsh all that ish! And I am a bold man! Thatsh what Harrenhal needsh! *burp*

Tyrion: Hrm. Fair enough. And HEY, on the subject of you moving to Harrenhal, I guess we'll need to find a replacement for you to command the City Watch. Got any suggestions of a good, loyal man? Like maybe you could name the man you sent out to kill that unnamed ho from AGoT chapter 35 and her baby?

Janos: Oh yesh, that wash Allar Deem. He'sh a great choice! The besht! *hiccup*

Tyrion: Oh really? Not Ser Jacelyn Bywater? I heard that was a competent, cool dude.

Janos: Sher Bywster? HAHAHA! No! Why, I bet if shomeone ordered him to kill shome babies he wouldn't even... *hic*... do it!

Tyrion: Hrm. Yes. Yes. Interesting. Keep telling me more.

Janos: Shure thing! How about I tell you all about the exshecushion of Ned Shtark. It wash really all Joffrey's idea. Cshersei, Varysh and everyone elshe had noshing to do wish it.

Tyrion: Ah, I see. Cersei did plan to let Ned take up the Black. Speaking of which, that sounds like a very noble cause. Taking up the Black, I mean. Maybe you should do it. Along with Allar Deem.

Janos stares and says nothing, drunk and confused.

Tyrion: Nice new sigil you invented for your house too. Some sort of bloody spear? Tell me, is that supposed to represent the spear you drove into the back of Ned Stark?

Janos: HEY! SHCREW YOU YOU PIESHE OF SHHCIT! Shtark wash a traitor who tried... *hic*... to buy me.

Tyrion: Too bad you were already sold!

Janos: I will schlap you!

Tyrion: Oh, and what would my father, Twyin, think of that? I am the HAND OF THE KING. Here is my decree: your sons will inherent modest lands, but not Harrenhal. You and Allar Deem will be sent to the Wall and join the Night's Watch in place of Ned Stark. The ship Summer's Dream is waiting for you in harbor and will sail you north.

Janos: NEVER! I'll tell Cshersei! I'll tell Joffrey! Then maybe it will be YOU who goesh to the Wall!

Janos tries to storm out of the room, but as he gets to the door... he runs into Jacelyn Bywater and a number of other City Watch guards.

Tyrion: Oh... Janos, I forgot to introduce you to Jacelyn Bywater, the new Commander of the City Watch.

Janos: But you shaid... oh... oh... I shee what you did there.

The guards take Janos prisoner and march him away.

Tyrion: Oh, and Ser Jacelyn... make sure that Allar Deem has an "unfortunate accident" while aboard the ship.

Jacelyn Bywater: Well, you can't "make" someone have an "accident." "Making" implies intent, while "accidents" are inherently done without intent and are fairly random things that happen due to--

Tyrion: --Look man, just pay the ship's crew to have him thrown off the side at sea and drown. That's what I'm saying.

Jacelyn Bywater: Ah, gotcha.

Varys then creepily shows up, like he seems to always do at the exact right time.

Tyrion: AGH!!! Oh man, you scared the crap out of me, you creepy eunuch!

Varys: Oh, well done, ser. Well done indeed.

Tyrion: I'm tempted to do the same thing to you as I did to Deem.

Varys: Now why would you do that? Besides, I'm an expert swimmer. I won the Silver Medal in the Men's 100-meter freestyle at the 1971 Pan American games.

Tyrion: No you didn't. That was Brazilian swimmer José Aranha.  Anyway, you're just as guilty as Slynt and the rest of them in helping to let the Queen go around and kill all of Robert's innocent bastard children. If you want me to allow you to live, you're going to have to stop holding secrets from me and be loyal to the Hand.

Varys: I know many secrets, Lord Hand.

Tyrion: And yet you did nothing to save this girl and her child from being murdered?

Varys: I cannot do everything. I did help to save another child of Robert, an older boy.

Tyrion: For the record, I just want to confirm we're talking about Gendry, right?

Varys: Yes. But I can assure you that I never assumed that the Queen would send people to execute the baseborn daughter of a prostitute. What threat did she pose? And oh, that poor girl! She loved Robert so.

Tyrion: Can a whore really love anyone?

Varys: She can love Benjamin Franklin. If you know what I mean. Because he's on the hundr--

Tyrion: --Yes, yes. I get it.

Varys: Okay.

Tyrion: Anyway, it seems from Slynt that Joffrey alone is responsible for Ned's death. So I can't blame that one on you. Although Slynt and the gold cloaks didn't seem all that surprised it happened.

Varys: With the gold cloaks on your side now, you can avoid such future problems. Although you still have to deal with the red cloaks loyal to your sister.

Tyrion: Oh, I'll figure out something to do with them. Besides, I've got my Vale mountain clansmen to protect me.

Varys: Whatever you say, Lord Hand. For you represent the realm, and so I serve you.

Tyrion: Like you served Jon Arryn and Ned Stark?

Varys: The same fate shall not happen to you, I'm sure.  By the way... have you had more time to consider that riddle about power I gave you several chapters ago? Remember... the one about whether the sellsword would obey the king, the rich man or the septon. Who really holds the power?

Tyrion: Oh shit... THIS again? The rich man. We went over this.

Varys: Think about Ned Stark's death. Who really killed him? Joffrey who gave the command? Ser Ilyn who swung the sword? Or another?

Tyrion: Littlefinger who controlled the money. Again. The rich man. Why are you pretending like this is hard?

Varys: *sigh*... Just PRETEND like it's cryptic and ask me what the answer is.

Tyrion: Okay, FINE. What's the answer?

Varys: The answer is that there is no answer. Power resides where people believe it resides. Power is a mummer's trick. The cake is a lie.

Tyrion: Wow. Deep. I might decide to not kill you after all. Or maybe I still will. But if I do, I'll be sort of sad about it for a few minutes. Who exactly ARE you, Spider?

Varys: Just a humble servant to a child pretending to be Aegon Targaryen the realm, Lord Tyrion.

Tyrion: No, but who are you REALLY? Where did you come from? Who made you a eunuch?

Varys: Ah, a long and sad tale I'm afraid. Anyway... wanna know why I actually showed up here?

Tyrion: Sure.

Varys pulls a parchment out of his sleeve. 

Varys: The captain of the White Hart galley plans to defect to Team Stannis. And the Redwyne brothers are attempting to sneak out of Kings Landing aboard the Moonrunner. Also, your clansman named "Macho Man" gave a brutal atomic elbow drop to a man who he claimed was cheating him at cards. It killed the man instantly.

Tyrion: Okay. I guess we execute the captain of the White Hart to teach a lesson to anyone else. Post extra guards on the Moonrunner to make sure the Redwynes can't escape... and about that card player... was he really cheating the Macho Man?

Varys: Yes, he was.

Tyrion: Well, then it seems like the Macho Man has done a service to the Kingdom by getting one less card cheat off the streets.

Varys: Very good, ser. And there is the business about the red comet. There are septons going through the streets claiming that the comet is an omen that the kingdom is full of corruption that will soon be purified.

Tyrion: Who cares? Let them say what they want.

Varys: But that's not the ONLY whisper I hear about the comet. I also hear then say it's really "Joffrey's comet," in celebration of the new king. Other theories include that it has to do with the Lord of Light and is a signal that Stannis is a re-birthed form of the legendary "Prince that was Promised" and should attack King's Landing; a sign about Ned Stark's death; a representation of the victories of the Northmen and house Tully against the Lannister forces; a sign to a specific girl in Essos that she should light a fire to burn her husband's corpse and see if she can walk into the same fire unscathed while a a bunch of old dragon eggs hatch; a signal of a pathway through the great waste of Essos as a mystical sign to go to Qarth; a herald warning of a coming war; a hot sword on the forge; a sword covered in blood; a message lighting the way through the Haunted Woods for a campaign north soon to be launched by the Night's Watch; a message from the drowned god; or that it could simply be an icy, small body rotating around our sun due to gravitational force. And when passing close to the sun, it warms and begins to release gases in 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.

Tyrion: Are you done, Spider?

Varys: One last thing! When Lord Rosby proposed a toast to the king, Ser Balon Swann remarked they would need THREE cups for that... and many laughed.

Tyrion: Who gives a fuck?

Varys: Oh, I just figured that if Joffrey heard about that, he'd want to--

Tyrions: --Well we can't let Joffrey hear about it then, can we? A joke is not treason. It's just a joke. In fact, that's a pretty funny one. Don't waste my time with this shit.

Varys: Ah, a wise and merciful decision, ser.

Tyrion then leaves and returns to his solar, where he finds Bronn waiting.

Bronn: So, you get rid of that Slynt guy?

Tyrion: Yes. The deed is done. Although all I really did was replace a Littlefinger yes-man with a Varys yes-man.  How is your recruiting of new sellswords going? Please tell me you haven't been killing the recruits.

Bronn: Meh. I didn't kill anyone who we could have used.

Tyrion: Well what happens if one of them winds up being better than you and kills you instead?

Bronn: Oh, you'll want to hire that one then.

Tyrion: What a dick. Tell me... would you kill a baby without question if you were ordered?

Bronn: Without question? Nah.

Tyrion: Oh, thank the gods.

Bronn: My question would be "how much?"

Tyrion: Yikes.

Tyrion then thinks about Shae... because, hey, Sibel Kekilli. He then goes to his private room and googles "Dilara" on an adult-focused "tube" website. 

ACoK 7: Catelyn I

Cat is in Riverrun, watching her son adjust his new ill-fitting crown. It looks a lot like the crown that Torrhen Stark used to wear before he bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror, or at least it looks like what the records describe the crown as looking like. The actual crown was lost centuries ago. Probably melted down into coins or sold on eBay. 

Robb's guards march forward a captive they recently aquired from a military victory - Ser Cleos Frey. Despite his "Frey" last name - his mom is a Lannister and he was actually on the side of the Lannisters. He was captured in the Battle of the Whispering Woods (the same battle where they captured Jaime). 

Robb: Okay Cleos, here is what we're gonna do. And if you don't listen up, my doggo is going to eat you.

Grey Wind: *Woof* [Translation: Yes, I am].

Robb: You shall be my envoy to Queen Cersei. I will send you to Kings Landing and you will give her my terms for peace. First, the Queen must release my sisters and return them to me. I'll trade them for Tion Frey and William Lannister. Second, Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey is OBVIOUSLY off. Third, I want my dad's bones also returned to us so they can be respectfully buried in that creepy-ass crypt. Fourth, Ice shall be returned to me and most definitely should NOT be melted into two different swords. Fifth, Lord Tywin will release all the knights and bannermen he has captured in battle at the Green Fork and Trident. I will then return all of the Lannister captives I have EXCEPT for Jaime Lannister. Sixth, Joffrey will renounce all claims over the north and will accept that I am King of the North, the Riverlands, and all the way to the Mountain of the Moons. And lastly, I'd like Cersei to do a walk through the streets naked so that everyone in Kings Landing can say they have seen her bewbs.

Greatjon: HELL YEAH! YOU TELL THOSE BITCHES! KING IN THE NORTH!

Rickard Karstark: Ugh. Peace terms with the Lannisters? Never! They killed my sons! *storms out*

Cleos: Uhhh.... suuuuure. I'll deliver that message. But Cersei is, you know, not actually going to accept it. Especially that bewbs part. She would never agree to that no matter what. That will never happen.

Robb: Whatevs. I don't care. Now be off!

The King in the North sends Cleos away. 

Cat: Wow, I'm real proud of you, son. That was great work you did there. But you saw Rickard leave, right? You know, some of your men are pissed that you're even asking for peace terms. And speaking of those peace terms... they were SUPER harsh. You know she won't accept them.

Robb: Yeah, totally. It's sort of just meant as a giant middle finger to her. I want vengeance just as much as Karstark.

Cat: Cersei doesn't care about anyone else. She wants Jaime back. She wants that D. You'll never get your sisters back unless you trade him for them.

Robb: Meh.

Cat: What... scared to face Jaime on the battlefield?

Edmure Tully: Sister, don't antagonize the boy.

Robb: Okay, FIRST... Mom, I ain't scared of Jaime and I'll kick his ass again. SECOND, Uncle Edmure... don't EVER call me "boy" again... I will mess your shit up. Third, I would have traded Jaime for dad. But that obviously won't happen now.

Cat: So you're saying Jaime is worth a man's life but not for two girls' lives?

Robb: Pretty much, yes. This is a medieval society and female lives have practically no value. Especially Sansa's life. Now let's change the damn subject. Mom, I'm sending you back to the Freys to help choose my new wife. Then after that you can go home and stay with Bran and Rickon.

Cat: Are you trying to get rid of me?

Robb: Yes.

Cat: Aren't you old enough to make the decision about your next wife yourself?

Robb: Shut up and listen to your king. Next point of order... Theon. I'm sending him to Pyke to negotiate with Balon Greyjoy so he can ally with us against these Lannisters.

Cat: That's a terrible idea. He's our hostage. We'd have better luck just keeping him as our hostage and ordering Balon to join us or we kill him.

Robb: What? NO WAY! Theon is, like, totally like a brother to me. He's not a hostage anymore. He's like my best friend. Totally loyal. 100%.

Cat: Ugh. I can see how this is going to go. Balon will probably betray us and declare himself a King again.

Robb: Who cares? The Iron Isles can become independent from the Seven Kingdoms, just like the North is now. Now get out my face, mom. I'm busy being KING up in here.

He walks away.  Cat then decides to go visit her dying father. Inside his solar, she finds him sleeping there with the Blackfish by his side. 

Cat: Oh wow, good to see you two talking again. Does Robb know you're back?

Blackfish: Nah, I didn't interrupt his meeting to bring the news I have to bring. It needs to be given to him in private.

Cat: Well... WHAT IS THE NEWS?!

Blackfish: Shhh! Don't wake up your dad. Let's go out on the balcony and talk.

They head to the balcony. There they see the comet. 

Blackfish: There... see it? My men call it the "Red Messenger."

Cat: Greatjon says it's a sign of vengeance for the murder of my husband.

Blackfish: Edmure think it represents the Tully colors - a fish of red against a blue background. An omen of victory for our Tully forces.

Cat: I only see the red of House Lannister.

Blackfish: It is neither Lannister nor Tully red. But a smear of blood across the sky.

Cat: Or maybe it represents [copy/paste the shitty comet joke from the previous 6 chapters].

Blackfish: So anyway, the news is that the war is spreading. Almost all the way up to the Twins.  Beric Dondarrion has been harassing Lord Tywin’s raiders and has been quite successful at it.  At first we heard news that Beric was killed by Ser Burton Crakehall. But then after that we heard news that Beric and his boy Thoros of Myr were seen at ANOTHER battle soon after.

Cat: Oh wow... what a crazy discrepancy. so is Beric alive or dead?

Dun Dunnn DUNNNNNNNN!

Blackfish: *shrugs*... Anyway, Edmure should have never let his riverlords return to their lands. They're being picked off one by one by Gregor "The Mountain" Clegane.  I won't name the specific riverlords being killed because they are largely irrelevant and those names will never be mentioned again in these books. Except for that eight year old Lyman Darry kid. Because he's the last in his line of House Darry, therefore leaving the House Darry open to be claimed. Probably by some dipshit like Lancel Lannister or something, huh? Anyway, the Mountain's head on a pike would make a great late Christmas gift for Robb this holiday season.

Cat: The Mountain may be awful, but he's just the lackey for Tywin Lannister -- the TRUE danger.

Blackfish: Agreed. He's sitting safe at Harrenhal while he sends out men like the Mountain,  Ser Amory Lorch and some Qohorik sellsword who are going around raping, pillaging and burning.

Cat: Once you tell the men that, they are going to want to march south to attack Tywin. But that is EXACTLY what Tywin would want us to do. And we should never give him what he wants. Unless what he wants is the sweet release of death. In which case... yeah.

Blackfish: That's not even the worst part. The worst part is that Ser Stafford Lannister is gathering a new host at Casterly Rock. They men are still green but Twyin has time on his side. He will wait patiently as his army grows stronger.

Cat: Damnit! We need to make Tywin move out of Harrenhal somehow. But HOW? If only there were some way he could feel threatened enough to have to uproot from  the castle.

Blackfish: Oh, you mean... like... the army of Lord Renly marching on him?

Cat: Well, it's KING Renly now.

Blackfish: Obviously Renly would want something in return if he were to aide us.

Cat: Well, I guess I'm going to have to seduce him with my sexy redhead charm! I'm single now anyway.

Blackfish: Hahaha, oh WOW. You really don't know about Renly, do you? 

ACoK 6: Jon I

In the Castle Black Library...

Jon: Sam, is your nerdy ass in here?

Sam: Whattup? Sorry, I lost track of time reading all these awesome books. Reading is SO MUCH FUN! And also... FUNdamental. Anyway, Aemon sent me here to find some maps of the lands beyond the Wall for Mormont.

Jon: Books are stupid. Especially long books. Long books and you have to wait years and years for the sequel and you never know when they are going to come out. So you got the maps or what?

Sam: Yes! Tons of them! Here are maps of Wildling villages. Here is a map of ranging parties from 400 years ago. Here is a map of Middle Earth. And here is a map of--

Jon: --Shut up and just give me the maps that matter. Like this one here. This looks SUPER important.

John looks at a map which says "Directions to Exact Location of Three-Eyed Crow and the Armies of the Others, with Specific Instructions on How to Destroy the Others and Save the Seven Kingdoms."  Jon picks up the map and it crumbles to pieces before his eyes. 

Jon: Whatever. It probably wasn't that important anyway.

Sam: Oh yeah, some of these documents are really old. They need to be carefully handled and copied every few hundred years to save them. Why, I imagine some of these documents have been re-copied dozens of times!  Like... look at this record of how much pickled cod the Night's Watch ate 600 years ago.

Jon: SRSLY WGAF?

Sam: Oh, it can tell us a lot! Knowing how much picked cod the Watch needed tells us how many men the Watch had then, how they lived, and what they ate. It's a treasure trove of information.

Jon: Whatever. You can read all that bullshit when we return from our ranging beyond the wall.

Sam: You mean IF we return from our ranging beyond the wall.

Jon: Well, I'm a main character with POV chapters, so I'll be okay. You though, I dunno...

Sam: Oh yeah, because being a POV chapter guy worked so well for your dad.

Jon: Rhaegar Targaryen doesn't have any POV chapters.

Sam: I'm talking about NED.

Jon: Oh yeah. Right. *shifty eyes*  Anyway, this seems like a good time to drop some exposition about our venture north of the Wall.  Lord Commander Mormont will lead you, me, and 200 seasoned men of the Night's Watch on an expedition. There, we will meet up with another 100 men from the Shadow Tower led by Qhorin Halfhand, the second-in-command over there.

Sam: Oh wow, I wonder why he has the name "Halfhand."

Jon: Because Wildlings cut off three of the fingers on his right hand with an ax, leaving only his thumb and index fingers. It's tragic, but at least he still has the two necessary fingers remaining on his hand in order to make a gun sign and go "pew pew" like he's firing a laser.  Anyway, the purpose of this expedition is to go on a "great ranging," which has a fourfold purpose:

1. First, to discover why exactly the Wildlings who lived so close to the Wall in previous years have now vanished and where they have gone to;
2. Second, to learn more about the "King-Beyond-the-Wall," Mance Rayder, who we conveniently name-dropped in the last book with some clever foreshadowing;
3. Third, to discover if we can find out what happened to my uncle Benjen as well as other missing members of the Watch, such as Ser Waymar Royce. We have been getting a ton of letters from Waymar's father, Yohn Royce, asking about his son. Quite frankly, it's getting annoying; 
4. And lastly, to discover any further information about what caused the corpses of Jafer Flowers and Othor to rise from the dead and become Wights. 

Sam: I thought they were always white. 

Jon: No. WIGHTS. 

Sam: Ah. Well anyway, I don't want to go on this trip. I'm a coward and I was selected to be a Steward. By definition, I should still be a Steward and stay here doing Steward stuff at Castle Black. I should not go Ranging. Because I am not a Ranger.

Jon: Well, we need someone literate and able to handle the Ravens, so that we can send the Ravens back to the Castle to update them on information we discover and to request assistance if we need any. So either you or Aemon goes with us. And Aemon is a 100 year old blind man, so that's not really a good idea.

Sam: I still don't want to go. I'm afraid! I'm not courageous like the rest of you.

Jon: Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.

Sam: Wow, that was pretty inspiring.

Jon: I Stole it from "Doctor Who."

Sam: Ugh. Whatever. Fine. I'll gather the stupid maps so we can go up North and die. 

The next day, Jon wakes up early and is getting ansty in anticipation of heading out on the ranging. Which will be soon. It's still dark and the only light in the sky is that of the Red Comet. 

Random Brother of the Night's Watch: Hey! I wonder what that is. 

Other Random Brother: I hear it's "Mormont's Torch," which was sent by the gods in order to light our journey through the Haunted Forrest. 

Random Brother: Oh really? Because I hear that it's really "Joffrey's comet," in celebration of the new king. Other theories include that it has to do with the Lord of Light and is a signal that Stannis is a re-birthed form of the legendary "Prince that was Promised" and should attack King's Landing; a sign about Ned Stark's death; a representation of the victories of the Northmen and house Tully against the Lannister forces; a sign to a specific girl in Essos that she should light a fire to burn her husband's corpse and see if she can walk into the same fire unscathed while a a bunch of old dragon eggs hatch; a signal of a pathway through the great waste of Essos as a mystical sign to go to Qarth; a herald warning of a coming war; a hot sword on the forge; a sword covered in blood; a message that the kingdom is full of corruption that will soon be purified; or perhaps even a message from the drowned god.

Other Random Brother: Well, I think it could simply be an icy, small body rotating around our sun due to gravitational force. And when passing close to the sun, it warms and begins to release gases in 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 c--

--Jon Snow runs up with Longclaw and cuts down the Other Random Brother. 

Jon: --OKAY! OKAY! That's enough of that. Please stop this! Nobody cares about this damn comet!

Jon thinks about what to do next. Some of the Watch have gone off to Mole's Town to be with some hookers before they go off to their probably deaths north of the wall. Other men have gone to the sept to pray. Jon finds neither of those options appealing and instead broods because he really likes brooding.  As he broods, he watches Endrew Tarth, the new Master at Arms who has replaced Alliser Thorne (while he's on his mission to deliver that Wight hand to King Joffrey), train new recruits. 

Jon: Oh wow, I wonder how Endrew is related to Brienne! Not that I know who that is because I've never met her and that character hasn't even been introduced... yet. 

It's undetermined. 

Donal Noye, the One-Handed Armorer: Hey, what do you think about these new recruits, Snow? We got them from near Gulltown. They are a brigand, a barber, a beggar, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker, two orphans, and a boy whore.

Jon: I mean they probably can't be any worse than Sam. Also... boy whore? 

Noye: Oh hey... how does it feel to be half-brother of a KING. Amiright? You heard about that... right? Right?

Jon: Yes, my bro Robb was crowed King in the North. Sounds pretty cool.

Noye: Too bad you'll never be crowned King in the North. You know, because you're a bastard and you've sworn your life to the Night's Watch... which means that you have to serve with us until the day you die. 

Jon: True. 

Noye: Although I guess TECHNICALLY if you died one day and came back to life afterwards, you will have fulfilled your oath and could leave the Watch to become a King. Sort of a loophole there in the oath. 

Jon: Dude, stop talking about people coming back from the dead. You know with this Othor and Jafer thing that we're all already super creeped out about stuff like that.  Anyway, Robb is cool and I bet he'll be a great King. 

Noye: Well, I said that about Robert Baratheon a long time ago because he was such a great soldier. But honestly he sucked as a king. I guess it just goes to show that being great in battle doesn't mean you'd be a great ruler. There is a difference between winning the war and winning the peace. 

Jon: Okay, okay. I get it. George R.R. Martin's depictions of Robert and Robb, both stand-ins representing versions of Edward IV, are partially a metaphor against the logic of military leaders as heads of state. I get it. No need to hit us over the head with it. 

Jon and Sam then meet up and head over to the Lord Commander's solar. 

Sam: *gasp*gasp*  So many steps to get up here!

Jon: Stop whining, fatty.  If you don't want to deal with steps... then you'll really enjoy the great ranging, since there will be none up north.

Lord Commander Mormont: Ah, took you long enough to get your asses here!

Raven: CORN!

Thoren Smallwood: --Lord Commander! Your place is here at Castle Black. I insist you not go on this expedition!

Jon: Oh wow. Way to just ignore our entry into this scene and continue whatever conversation you were having before we showed up. By the way... who the hell are you? Have you been introduced in these books yet? So many characters, I'm losing track.

Thoren: No, this is my introduction to the book series. I am Thoren Smallwood. Although never mentioned in the previous book at all, I was apparently an untrustworthy henchman of Alliser Thorne the whole time. You're just supposed to pretend I was a character all along like when they added Dawn to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Following the death of Ser Jaremy Rykker via the Wights, command of the Rangers now falls to me. And as the new First Ranger, I should lead the Ranging. Not you, Lord Commander. You're too old anyway. 

Mormont: Shut up, Thoren. You're technically only ACTING First Ranger until we confirm that Benjen is dead. I'm the HNIC and I will lead this ranging. Now GETOUTTAHERE!

Thoren grumbles and leaves.

Mormont: Pfft, I'd rather have that cowardly fat shit SAM as the First Ranger than Thoren. 

Sam: Dude, I'm standing right here. 

Mormont: I know, now let me see those damn maps that I asked for. 

Sam lays the maps out on the table.

Mormont: Are these all we have?  They maps look old as hell. Look, there is a Chi-Chi's on this map here. Chi-Chi's has been out of business for over a decade. Which is a shame because I really liked their tortillas. 

Raven: CORN!

Mormont: Yes, I think the corn ones were better. Although the flour ones were okay too. 

Sam: Okay, so the maps are not  up to date, so some of the villages on the map are probably wrong now. But all the geography will still be correct. 

Mormont: And make sure to bring the BEST ravens with us on this trip! We need reliable ravens to send word back to the Castle in the event we're all butchered like cows. Just cut up into filet and ribeye and chuck steak. Blood everywhere. Our eyes torn out of our rotting faces by birds and our bones used as decorations for Wildling outfits. 

Sam gets dizzy and vomits everywhere.

Raven: CORN! 

Mormont: Pussy. You won't last long up there north of the Wall if you don't man up. I sort of knew that already, which is why I almost sent you down to meet with Renly to ask for more recruits for the Watch, like I sent Alliser to Joffrey. I don't care what king I get men from. I just need more men! It's raining kings up in this bitch. Even Aemon could have been a king a long time ago, but he turned it down.

Jon: Wow, I didn't know that. 

Mormont: Well, now you do. I could tell you a long, ponderous story about the whole history of how Aemon was offered the crown and turned it down as a metaphor for your relationship with your brother the King in the North and how you need to keep your vows, but I won't. 

Raven: KING! KING!

Jon: Haha, wow. I guess that raven thinks you should have a crown, Lord Commander.

Mormont: Nah. Too many damn kings already. 

ACoK 5: Arya II

Day after day. Every day. Arya and her crew travel from dawn til dusk, heading north on the way to Castle Black (via Winterfell).  And every night they eat with only the light of the red comet.

Hot Pie: What do you think the comet represent?

Lommy: Well Hot Pie, that's a good question. I hear that maybe it represents blood and fire, or perhaps a giant sword in the sky that ends summer, or perhaps the death of Ned Stark, or the beginning of the reign of King Joffrey, or--

Arya: --NO! NO! STOP! NO! STOP THIS NOW.

When they pass people, they are all heading South, towards Kings Landing.

Arya: Hrm, I wonder why nobody is going North like us.

Passing Merchant: There is a war up there, boy. Don't go north. There is nothing up there but death. You'd be better off selling all your possessions to me rather than going on and having them stolen from you by bandits and rogue armies.

Arya: Oh yeah, right. I guess that makes sense.

Yoren: No thanks, Merchant. We're with the Night's Watch. We're neutral in this war and nobody will touch us.

Passing Merchant: Hahahaha.... oh... that's a good one, dude. Pretty good. It's even more hilarious if you really believe that. Good luck!

As they keep heading north they pass a shallow grave. But it's really small.

Arya: Oh shit... a child's grave! That's pretty messed up. That's the type of thing which would usually shock and upset a little girl my age. But then again I've already killed another human being, so I'm way beyond that now.

Yoren: What do you mean little girl... you mean little boy, right BOY?

Arya: Oh right. Yeah. That.

Praed, A Sellsword: *cough*cough* It's not just one grave. There are a ton of graves for children. Look over there.

Arya: Odd. I wonder why we're pointing out that Praed is coughing.

Yoren: It's called a "Chekhov's gun," Arya. It means sometime later in the story, Praed will di--

--Praed drops dead right there.

Yoren: Oh, that usually takes a bit longer to happen. Usually it's more of a "mentioned early and then pays off later" kind of thing. Here, Bull, take Praed's sword.

Gendry: Yeah, we can stop "The Bull" stuff now and just call me "Gendry."

That evening they stop by an inn. They can't afford rooms, but they can get a hot meal and the innkeeper agrees that they can use the water hose out back to bathe down their stinky selves.

Arya: Well, I probably stink worse than Yoren, so I'll go wash myself down now--

Yoren: --Not so fast, BOY!

Arya: Oh right. DAMNIT. They'll see I don't have a wiener. So I guess I have to stay smelly then, huh?

Inkeeper: How about a free round of beer for you all? The Night's Watch are good people and I respect you. Ya know, my brother Lync was sent to the Wall for stealing pepper from our Lord. It was just a little pepper, you know!

Arya: Oh wow. Interesting! They revealed the specific name of a character named Lync who is up at the Wall. I bet that's some sort of Chekhov's gun that will pay off later too, right? He will be some sort of supporting character that has adventures with Jon?

Yoren: No. Lync will never be mentioned again. Drink this beer.

Arya: YAY! ... I love beer! Dad used to let me drink beer back in Winterfell. Since, you know, Starks are essentially white trash.

They all drink and talk with people in the inn. Everyone else agrees that their plan to go north is stupid.

Inkeeper: The fields have been burned, wild moon clan people from the Vale screaming about "Slim Jims" have been raiding. That young Robb Stark kid has come South to war.

Arya: OH HEY! My brother!!!

Yoren shoots her a dirty look.

Arya: I mean... ahh... my brother... uhm... is some other person. Completely unrelated to Robb Stark.

Refugee: You know, I hear up by the God's Eye there is this pack of wolves running around and killing people. They are super fierce! And they're lead by some kind of raging she-wolf. She's HUGE! Like a giant. Like some sort of direwolf.

Arya: Wait... what?

Refugee: A female direwolf. Leading a pack of wolves near the God's Eye.

Arya: OH SHIT! I wonder if that's Nymeria!

Yoren quietly pulls out a map of Westeros.

Yoren: *whispers to Arya* Hrm. Interesting theory. Where exactly did you abandon Nymeria?

Arya: Uhh... near the Trident River.

Yoren: Yes, yes. But the Trident River is big. In fact, it splits into three Rivers, hence "Trident." Do you have any more specific info about where on the Trident?

Arya: Uhm. Oh, I remember earlier that day me and Micah the Buthcer's boy were looking for rubies because we had heard that we were near some place where King Robert killed Rhaegar Targaryen. And Robert killed him with this big warhammer that smashed all the rubies in from the red dragon in his armor into the river.

Yoren: Ah yes, the famous "ruby ford" not that far south from the Inn at the Crossroads. Here is the approximate location you would have abandoned Nymeria back between AGoT Chapters 15 and 16.  And further south down here is the God's Eye. It's called that because it's a big lake with an island in the middle. So the island looks a little bit like a pupil. Technically the isle is called "the Isle of Faces."  Have you ever heard stories about it?

Arya: Nah. Hearing stories about old islands sounds like some Bran shit.

Yoren: Hrm, good point. Well, as you can see - the Ruby Ford and the God's Eye are not that far apart. If you abandoned Nymeria around the Ruby Ford, it would be highly probably that any siting of a female direwolf near the God's Eye would indeed by Nymeria. Especially since the God's Eye is a little south. Presumable the heart-broken Nymeria would have tried to keep following you after you abandoned her. And you were heading south from Winterfell to Kings Landing at the time. So if Nymeria went in any direction, south would be a good bet.

Arya: So can we just go ahead and call it canon that this wolf near the God's Eye is Nymeria?

Yoren: Yes. Let's call it canon.

Refugee: Anyway, I hear this she-wolf snatched a baby from a woman's arms and ate it whole.

Arya: Hahaha, CLASSIC NYMERIA! You know, up at Winterfell when I was with my family I--

Yoren: --SHHHHH! Get out of here, ARRY, you BOY and STOP REVEALING YOUR IDENTITY!

And so Arya goes outside to mope.  Also outside is the cart of prisoners in the wagon who are too dangerous to be let out. 

Jaqen H’ghar: Boy! Boy! A man would like another beer. A man would also like a shower. A boy could use a friend and a man could be a boy's friend.

Arya: Oh wow, that sounds really gross. Why exactly are you a prisoner again? Were you arrested for having some white van that used to park outside of elementary schools?

Rorge: Screw you, boy! Get over here and give me another beer! BEER! BEER!

Biter: *biting roises*

Jaqen H’ghar: Apologies for a man's companions, boy.

Arya: You talk a little like this guy I used to know named "Syrio Forel." He was from Braavos.

Jaqen H’ghar: A man is named Jaqen H’ghar and he is from Lorath. Lorath is one of the nine Free Cities of Essos. It is very close to Braavos.

Arya: How close? Can I see another map?

Jaqen H’ghar: No. One embedded map is enough for this chapter. If a boy would like to see the approximate relationship between Lorath and Braavos, then a boy should just click this hyperlink.

Rorge: BEEERRRR!!!

Rorge throws his empty beer tankard at Arya, but she dodges it. She then pulls her sword wooden out. She can't show any fear.

Biter lunges at her through the bars of the cart and Arya knocks him on the head with the butt of her sword. 

Jaqen H’ghar: A boy has more courage than common sense.

Arya: FEAR CUTS DEEPER THAN SWORDS.

She feels a hand land on her shoulder from behind then. She spins quickly, ready to attack, but--

Gendry: --Hey Arry! GEEZ! You almost smacked the shit out of me. What's going on here?

Arya: Oh, hi Gendry. I was just messing around with these crazy people here.

Gendry: Don't do that. They're dangerous. That's why they're all chained and caged up.

Arya: I don't care. I'm not scared. FEAR CUTS DEEPER THAN SWORDS.

Gendry: If you're not scared then you're stupid. Even I'm scared of these guys. Come on, let's get out of here.

They walk off. But Arya is all pumped with adrenaline from facing off with the caged trio. 

Arya: Wanna fight?

Gendry: WHAT?

Arya: You heard me. Let's fight. But, you know, just for fun and stuff.

Gendry: I'm nearly twice as old as you and twice your size. Look how buff I am from working in a blacksmith shop. I will mess you up.

Arya: But I'm faster.

Gendry draws his new sword that he got from dead Praed earlier. Arya pulls out needle.

Arya: Okay, here we g--

Just then, six gold cloak soldiers ride up and surround the inn.

Gold Cloak: BY ORDER OF QUEEN CERSEI, WE COME WITH A WARRANT AND DEMAND TO SEE THE LEADER OF THE PARTY FROM THE KNIGHT'S WATCH!

Gendry and Arya, at the Same Time: Oh shit! They're looking for me! Hide!

They then look at each other, and wonder why they both said the exact same thing. They then hide behind some bushes.

Yoren walks out of the inn. 

Yoren: Just what the fuck is going on here?

Gold Cloak: Here is a warrant from Queen Cersei. You shall now turn over to us the individual we are looking for. We have information that this person is with your party.

Arya: Oh wow, that was oddly specific phrasing that carefully still didn't answer the question of who they were looking for. It even remained gender neutral by saying "person."

Yoren: Fuck off.

Gold Cloak: I have four men with me! We'll cut you down.

Yoren: And I have thirty men with me! Boys!

Out come Tarber, Cutjack, Kurz, Koss, Reysen, Dobber, Hot Pie, and others. Do you have to remember most of these characters? No.  They all carry weapons and point them at the Gold Cloaks. 

Arya: Wow, I can't believe that even fucking Hot Pie is standing up to protect me. I hate Hot Pie.  I can't let these guys risk thier lives for me.

Arya gets out from the bushes and walks to the Gold Cloaks. 

Arya: Here I am! Don't hurt my friends.

Gold Cloak: Get the fuck out of our face, little girl.

Arya: Uhhh... GIRL? I'm... uhh... a boy... I mean... errmm...

Gendry then walks up. 

Gendry: I'm the one they want, Arry. Stand aside.

Gold Cloak: Yep! That's the one! Take him.

Yoren unsheaths his sword. 

Yoren: You're not taking either one of them. You're taking nobody. You're turning around and going back home with jack shit.

Yoren pulls a quick-ass ninja move and spins around. Soon his sword is up to the throat of one of the Gold Cloaks, pressing into his jugular.

Gold Cloak: You know what? I think I want to turn around and go back home with jack shit.

The Gold Cloaks ride away.

Hot Pie: YEAH! Woo-hoo! We kicked ass!

Yoren: Shut your stupid ass up, fatty. You didn't do nothing. As for you, Gendry... DAMN. I didn't realize that the queen wanted you THAT bad.

Arya: Why the hell does the queen want lame as GENDRY? Just who is this guy? Shouldn't she be looking for me? After all, I'm Ar--

Yoren puts his hand over her mouth.

Yoren: --Arry, an annoying idiot BOY who talks too much.  Now let's keep riding and get the hell out of here before they decide to come back with more men. 

ACoK 4: Bran I

Bran is sitting on his stone window, looking out at the world, rather than being confined on his bed. Up on the window he feels free. Like he could fly. Like some crow or something. Specifically a three-eyed crow, if you get my gist. He also likes to hear the direwolves howl. 

Bran: I wonder why they howl. I feel like they're trying to talk to me or something.

Bran previously asked people why wolves howl. These are the answers he got:

Ser Rodrick: How the fuck would I know?

Farlen the Kennelmaster: They cry for freedom. The deep blue sea. Oh no wait, those are sharks I'm thinking of.

Gage the Cook: They want steak.

Luwin: Uhh... I'm sure it's for different reasons at different times. Right now I think they're howling at that damn red comet because they think it's the moon. 

But that answer really made Bran just more interested in the red comet. So instead of asking why his wolves howl, he started asking people what the hell this red comet thing was all about.

Osha: Luwin told you WHAT?! Those wolves have more sense than him. The comet represents blood and fire, boy, and nothing sweet!

Septon Chayle: The comet represents the sword that slays the season and the end of summer. It also represents that people need to start RETURNING MY GODDAMN LIBRARY BOOKS!

Old Nan: I'm too old and blind to see the comet myself. But the comet represents the coming of dragons!

Hodor: Why, this is a quite thought-provoking and striking query that you present before me, my fledgling little Brandon. I have heard the hypotheses that Osha, Chayle and Nan prepossessed before you and I find them all with some various level of merit. Of course, all hypotheses should be tested according to the scientific method to see if data or facts can be used to prove them. Alas, this is a tough one to come to any conclusions on. And the theories put forward by my fine, fellow residents of Winterfell are not the only theories out there. For I have heard many more other hypotheses out there. There is a rumor that many people in King Landing call it "Joffrey's comet," in celebration of the new king. Other theories include that it has to do with the Lord of Light and is a signal that Stannis is a re-birthed form of the legendary "Prince that was Promised" and should attack King's Landing; some of your relatives might also be keen to believe it is a sign about your father's death, or that it represents the victories of the Northmen and house Tully against the Lannister forces; or a sign to a specific girl in Essos that she should light a fire to burn her husband's corpse and see if she can walk into the same fire unscathed while a a bunch of old dragon eggs hatch; a signals for a pathway through the great waste of Essos as a mystical sign to go to Qarth; a herald warning of a coming war; a message that the kingdom is full of corruption that will soon be purified; a symbol of a torch related to the Lord Commander of Castle Black; or a message from the drowned god.

Shaggydog and Summer: *HOWL!* [Translation: It could simply be an icy, small body rotating around our sun due to gravitational force. And when passing close to the sun, it warms and begins to release gases in 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.]

Bran: Ohmygawd this comet joke is wearing soooooooo thin. Anyway, I love those wolves though. Shaggydog is locked up in a special pen though, because he tore the shit out of one of those Frey kids that was sent up to live with us here in Winterfell. I hate those Frey kids. They're such little dicks. Still, I think all their theories about why the wolves howl are wrong. They howeled that night my dad died. They seemed to know. Are they howling now because they know something else? Has one of my sisters died? God, if so... I hope it's Sansa.

Shaggydog and Summer: *HOWL* [Translation: Honestly, Gage was right. We just want steak.]

Bran: Ah man. I can't sleep at all. So I'm just going to keep talking to myself and remembering shit. I remember how I used to love to walk and climb. That was the best. Now those towers over there mock me as I look at them... not being able to climb them. I'll never be a knight!

Luwin then comes into the room. 

Luwin: Dude, SHUT UP WITH THE TALKING TO YOURSELF. It's like 1 in the morning. People are trying to sleep here. You're supposed to be asleep too.

Bran: I'm just talking to my wolves. See? *HOWWWWWLLLLL*

Summer: *HOWL* [Translation: Dude! I think Bran just said "All filthy wolves have sex with cars." He really needs to learn his direwolf language better or else he'll get beat up by wolves who don't know him like we do].

Luwin: You must sleep! Even princes must sleep.

Bran: Oh right. I'm a "prince" now because Robb is a "king."Still, I don't wanna. I turn into a wolf when I sleep.

Luwin: That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. Nobody turns into a wolf when they sleep. Well, except maybe greenseers and wargs, well known groups of people among the children of the forest who used to live here and who, according to some legends, the Stark family has deep blood kinship with. As part of the very religion we believe here in the north, and our connection to the weirwood trees, we instinctively believe that such greensight and warging is absolutely plausible. But beyond those facts, your idea is totally crazy and I stand by the concept that nobody wargs into wolves when they sleep.

Bran: Do wolves dream?

Luwin: I dunno. Probably. About eating rabbits and shit?

Bran: Do the dead dream?

Luwin: Some think so, but the dead are silent on the matter.

Bran: Hahaha, that line is so good we don't even need to make some sort of joke there. We can just straight up take it from the book. Okay, next one... can trees dream?

Luwin: Fuck no.

Bran: I think you're wrong. I have tree dreams too sometimes. I don't like those dreams that much. I'm always getting cut down or having my delicious maple syrup drained from my body. I like the wolf dreams much more. I can smell and taste blood in those dreams. It is decidedly metal.

Luwin: You are super weird, kid. You need to spend time with other children and stop going through this goth phase.

Bran: I hate other children. Especially those two Walder Frey kids that came here. I want them to go away!

Luwin: They can't go away. Your mother, who is a terrible negotiator, made a deal with Walder Frey and they have to live here now as part of the deal. You should try to learn to like them. You need friends.

Bran: The only friend I need is Summer. When I play "Lord of the Crossing" with those shitty Freys and the Freys try to be douches, Summer always protects me and tries to eat the fuck out of them. It's cool.

Luwin: Those wolves are getting big and dangerous. Don't you remember that it was in this very room that Summer ripped a man's throat out? How could you forget... the blood stain is still here on the carpet! See? That shit will NEVER come out! Even soap from Paper Street Soap Co. won't clean it out, and Paper Street Soap works great on blood stains.

Bran: Are we doing Fight Club jokes now? Is that how low this blog is sinking for content now?

Luwin: Don't explain the joke, Bran. Explaining the joke makes it not funny. You need to shape the hell up and act like a responsible eight year-old boy.

Bran: I don't want to be a responsible eight year-old boy. I want to be a wolf! *HOOOWWWWLLL*

Summer: *HOWL* [Translation: That time Bran just said "Go to the jungle and sail." He is really struggling with his direwolf].

Luwin: Bran, please calm down and--

Bran: *HOWWWLLLL* [Translation: "Brown cheese, but after his death, he died."]

Luwin: Okay, I'm just going to leave then, shithead.

He leaves. 

Alone, Bran then thinks intensely about the specific rules of the previously mentioned "Lord of the Crossing" game. It's complicated and irrelevant, so just disregard it and pretend they are playing "Battleship" instead because I don't have to explain that.

He played the game with the two Frey boys, who are both named "Walder." Every Frey is named "Walder" because all the Freys hope that naming their kid "Walder" will mean that old man Walder, when he eventually dies, will pass on everything to them. Even the Freys who have girls name them "Walda." The two Walders in Winterfell are especially annoying though because one is called "Big Walder" and the other is called "Little Walder." Only the big one is actually littler. He used to be bigger back when he got the nickname because he was older, but then the younger one gout super fat.

Luwin: -SIKE! I'm back again, Bran!

Bran: Damnit, I thought you were leaving and I could brood alone.

Luwin: No, I've come back with Osha and some character named Heyhead who will be mentioned one more time before never being seen again in the books. Ive also come with some percocet. Pop a few of these bad boys and you'll be out like a light.

Bran: Sweet.

Bran takes the opiods and soon falls asleep. But he doesn't drift off into darkness. Instead, he goes into the body of Summer. 

Bran/Summer: HOLY SHIT! I think I just quantum leaped!

Bran/Summer wants to go out to hunt and kill animals and eat their warm, raw flesh. It would be so delicious. He also dreams of his family - Grey Wind, Ghost and Nymeria... they seem so far away. Lady seems lost... lost and gone forever like his mother.  Bran/Summer wants to howl. 

Bran/Summer: *HOWL* [Translation: The world has tightened around us, Shaggydog. But beyond the wall still stands Winterfell, and beyond that the true world calls me, and I knows I must answer... answer, or die!]

Shaggydog: *woof* [Translation: Summer, you get super cryptic whenever Bran is Jadzia Dax'ing into you.]

ACoK 3: Tyrion I

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.

ACoK 2: Sansa I

Oh great. Another damn Sansa chapter.

Sansa: HEY!

Sansa watches the long tail of the red comet when Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard comes into her room.

Arys Oakheart: Oh wow. I actually get some dialogue in this book? Finally! Maybe one day I'll even get my own POV chapter.

Sansa: Hey, what does this comet mean?

Arys: Oh, the gods have put it in the sky to honor your betrothed, the King. The small folk call it "Joffrey's comet." But then again, it's also open to interpretation. I bet there is some red witch out there who thinks it has to do with the Lord of Light and is a signal that Stannis a re-birthed form of the legendary "Prince that was Promised" and should attack King's Landing. I'd guess that some of your relatives out there might also think it's a sign about Ned Stark's death, or that it represents the victories of the Northmen and house Tully against the Lannister forces.  Some people, such as crazy 14 year old girls sold into prearranged marriages with barbarian warlords, might even think it's a sign that that they should light a fire to burn their husband's corpse and see if they can walk into the same fire unscathed while a a bunch of old dragon eggs hatch. Those same type of  people might even see the comet and think that it signals a pathway through the great waste of Essos as a mystical sign to go to Qarth.

Sansa: Wow, those theories are all crazy. The only things that I could think that would be crazier are theories that is is a herald warning of war, or a sword red hot from the forge, or a warning of corruption that will soon be purified, or a representation of blood, or a sign that summer is over, a torch related to the Lord Commander of Castle Black, a message from the drowned god, or the coming of dragons.

Arys: Well, those all do sound crazy. But the craziest one I have ever heard is that comets are, in fact, icy small bodies rotating around our sun due to gravitational force. And when passing close to the sun, they warm and begin to release gases in 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.

Sansa: Wow. Which of these theories do you think is right?

Arys: Definately the Joffrey one. After all, the comet is red and red is the color of House Lannister.

Sansa: But Joffrey isn't a Lannister. He's a "Baratheon."  Shouldn't the comet be gold?

Arys breaks out into uncontrollable laughter, as not even GRRM does a good job at having any characters try to pretend that they think Joffrey is a legitimate heir to King Robert. The only person in the whole Seven Kingdoms stupid enough to believe that is Sansa.

Sansa: HEY!

Still, Sansa likes Arys the most of all the Kingsguard. Because he beats her the least hard when Joffrey orders them to beat her. Well, discounting the Hound. The Hound refuses any order from Joffrey to beat her, and so Joffrey has simply stopped ordering the Hound to, because he knows it won't happen.  That means The Hound is actually the kindest and nicest person to her, so she should like him the most. However, The Hound is physically unattractive while Arys Oakhart is handsome. So she still likes Arys more despite the fact that he does still hit her while The Hound doesn't hit her at all. What a shallow cunt.

Sansa: HEY!

Arys: Come now, Sansa. I need to take you to this Tourney being held in Joffrey's honor.

Sansa: Wow... another tourney? Didn't we just have one?

Arys: Yeah, and I'm in it. I bet I'm going to win it. Because this tourney is going to be pretty fucking pathetic. Since the whole kingdom is in a giant civil war nobody is going to show up. It's going to be a tiny thing here inside the Red Keep with nobody from the outside. And not even most people from the Red Keep are going to show up. For instance... Cersei. She won't even be there!

And so they arrive at the outer bailey of the Red Keep and see a pathetic, small crowd of indifferent people. Ever seen the crowd at a Miami Marlins game? Yeah, it's EXACTLY like that. 

The Hound is there are announced her arrival.  The only people who are excited to see here are Tommen and Myrcella, because they are too young and stupid to understand anything.

Tommen: Hey Sansa! I'm going to ride in the tourney today!

Sansa: Oh wow, this really IS going to be pathetic.

The Hound: I mean he's not REALLY fighting. He's just facing a quintain. Which is just a fancy word for a mannequin with armor on. But not one of those "come to life for real" mannequins like Kim Cattrall. Just a stationary one.

Joffrey: Oh, my beloved and beautiful Sansa! How are you on this fine day?

Sansa: Oh shit! Joffrey is in a good mood for some reason. He might even not have me beaten today. Something must be crazy.

Joffrey: Oh yeah, I got news from Essos. That filthy beggar king, Viserys Targaryen, is dead.  Now one less rival claim to the throne to deal with.

Sansa: Really? Kings Landing is just hearing about Viserys dying now? That was A Game of Thrones Chapter 46. That was ages ago.

Joffrey: His face was melted off with a gold crown. It sounds awesome. I'm a sadistic fuck and I want to try that on people myself. And since the Lannisters are famous for having a lot of gold, it will be easy for me--as a Lannister--to do that.

Sansa: But I thought you were a Baratheon.

Joffrey and everyone else bursts into uncontrollable laughter because Sansa is so stupid.

Sansa: HEY!

Joffrey: The next false King I will defeat is your stinky brother, Robb! Perhaps I'll feed him to wolves! Right after I best him in single hand-to-hand combat!

Sansa: Hrm, if I vaguely remember correctly, the last time Robb challenged you to combat you ran away like a pathetic little scared bitch.

Joffrey: What? NO! I'm super brave! I love fighting! I can totally win!

Sansa: Really? How about you fight in this tournament here today then.

Joffrey: I... uhh... ermm... uhh...

The Hound: The little bird makes a good point. Go on. This is literally the worst and most pathetic tournament lot ever. If your pussy ass ever stood any chance in a tourney, it is this one.

Joffrey: *sweating profusely*... I, err... It is not proper for a King to fight in a tournament dedicated to himself!

Sansa: Really? Since when has that been a rule?

Joffrey: Uhhm... err... ahhhh... SHUT UP! Both of you! If anyone should be fighting in this Tournament it should be you, Hound. You should fight someone to the death! I love watching people die!

The Hound: I would absolutely fuck up every pathetic loser in this thing. These are all your loyal knights, Joffrey.  All you'd achieved by seeing me fight one of them to be one knight less.

Stannis: --Fewer!

Trumpets then sound, signalling the beginning of the fight. This gives bitchboy Joff the perfect excuse to shrug the tourney off.

Joffrey: Oh look! The trumpets sounded! That means it's too late to join the tourney. Oh well. I really wanted to fight, but now I can't.

And so it begins. It includes absolute nobodies like Meryn Trant (a Kingsguard who really likes to beat her), Horace and Hobber Redwyne (twin hostages, like her), Morros Slynt (son of shitty Janos Slynt who helped to sell out her dad), Ser Dontos Hollard (an alcoholic),  Lothor Brune (a Littlefinger yes-man who had a brief few victories in the Hand's Tournament), and Jerry Lawler (AWA Southern Heavyweight Champion).

Slynt fucks himself up which makes Sansa laugh, because she hates those Slynts.  It makes Joffrey laugh too because he likes watching people get fucked up.

Joffrey: Oh my... hahaha... that dude sucks so hard! Tommen, you should have faced him! I bet he's even easier to defeat than your opponent, Kim Cattrall.

The Hound: No, no. I said that quintains are the non-Kim Cattrall type of mannequin.

Next, Dontos goes out to face Lothor, but he's so fucking shitfaced drunk that he stumbles out late and without most of his clothes on. He tries to mount his horse but keeps falling off.  The crowd laughs.

Crowd: OH SHIT! This is the best thing we've seen this whole tournement!

But one person who is not laughing is Joffrey.

Joffrey: HOW DARE HE MAKE A MOCKERY OF THIS TOURNAMENT!

The Hound: I mean this tournament is already kind of a mockery. Can you make a mockery out of a mockery?

Joffrey: EXECUTE HIM!

Sansa then stands up, impulsively and without thinking. Sort of like every decision she makes.

Sansa: HEY! ... oh, and also... No, Joffrey! Don't!

Joffrey turns to Sansa with a shiteye and angrily starts puffing at her. He wants to beat the shit out of her so hard for daring to defy him. Sansa tries to back track.

Sansa: And what I mean by "no," is... umm... you reap what you sew on your nameday. And since this tourney is in honor of your nameday, you can't kill someone on your nameday or you'll be killed. That's totally a thing.

Joffrey: Fine. I'll kill him tommorow. Thanks for the protip, Sansa.

Sansa: And... uhm... also... uhh... NO! An execution... a quick death... that's too merciful! Instead of killing him quickly, you should make him suffer slowly. Such as by stripping him of his knighthood and making him your new fool for years and years to come!

Joffrey: Oh wow, that is pretty sick and humiliating. You know, I think I'm starting to wear off on you Sansa.  Well, you heard my betrohed, everyone. Take Ser Dontos away, strip him of his knighthood, and make him our new jester. Because lord knows we don't already have enough terrible jesters in this book with that awful Patchface shit. And you know what? I'm just going to cancel the rest of this tournament because it sucks so hard.

Tommen: NO! I was supposed to joust!

Joffrey: Too bad.

Myrcella: Mother said Tommen would get to!

Joffrey: Forget mom. She isn't here, is she?

Tommen: I wanna joust! I wanna joust!

Joffrey: Shut up, you two. You sound like children.

Tommen: Uh, actually we are children.

The Hound: OH SNAP! He got you there, Joffrey. You just let your super slow brother get one up on you. That means you have to let him joust now.

Joffrey: *sigh* Fine... whatever.

Tommen jousts the stationary quintain. The quintain wins.

Kim Cattrall: At long last, victory is mine! This ends the curse that was put upon me in Ancient Egypt.

The Hound: Oh shit, I was wrong. It WAS the Kim Cattrall-type of mannequin.

Tommen lays in the dirt, injured and in pain. Myrcella runs out to help him.

Sansa: You know, your Highness, you should go out and help your brother too.

Joffrey: Nah. Fuck 'em.

Tommen picks himself up with Myrcella's help and wants to ride again.  Sansa sees that despite being a little slow, at least Tommen has courage and wants to fight. She wishes she got to marry Tommen rather than Joffrey.

Just then, the portcullis rises and the gates of the Red Keep open. A large army rides in. In addition to a bunch of Lannister soldiers, there are sellswords and a bunch of strange savages like this guy:

Macho Man: OOOHH YEAH! THE MA-CHO MAN GETS TO RETURN FOR BOOK TWO! I HEAR THERE IS A TOURNAMENT HERE!

Jerry Lawler: That's right, I'm the 40-time reigning AWA Southern Heavyweight Champion. And the winner of his tournament gets the belt next. I fully intend to keep it. Nobody is going to defeat The King!

Joffrey: Huh?! WHAT?! The King?! No! NO! I don't have to fight, do I?! I'm so scared! I don't want to fight! GAHHH!!

The Hound: No, Joffrey.  Jerry Lawler's nickname is "the King," so he was referring to himself. Not you.

Joffrey: Oh... uh... right, right. I knew that. I was just kidding. I totally wanted to fight, remember? I bet I'd win.

Macho Man: OOOH, IT'S ON JERRY LAWLER! THE MA-CHO MAN IS GOING TO--

Tyrion Lannister: --*AHEM* I believe we diverged from the intention of where this storyline is going. The Lannister soldiers, sellswords and savages were actually arriving as part of my party. I, Tyrion Lannister, have returned to King's Landing.

Joffrey: Uncle Dwarfy, what the hell are you doing here? I heard you were supposed to be dead or something.

Tyrion: Not quite. I'm very much glad to be alive. Unlike your own fathers, Joffrey and Sansa. My deepest sympathies for that, by the way.

Joffrey: Wait... my father died? Jaime?!

Tyrion: No. I was referring to Robert. BARATHEON. You know. Your "father." *winks*

Joffrey: Oh yeah, right. *winks back*  Anyway, it's my name day. I hope you brought be a present!

Tyrion: Oh yeah, here it is. Just inside my fist here!

Tyrion presents his fist to Joffrey and then pretends to crank it. Slowly his middle finger rises up.

Crowd: HAHAHA! WE LOVE TYRION!

Joffrey: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! All of you! Stop laughing!

Crowd: Okay! We'll stop now. We don't want to be executed.

Joffrey: You know, Uncle Dwarfy, if you really wanted to get me a good gift, it would be giving me a little head.

Tyrion: You know, that is a pretty fucked up thing to say... even for this gross, incestuous family.

Joffrey: No, no, no! I was referring to the head of Sansa's brother, Robb.

Tyrion: Nah.

Joffrey: Well fine then. I'm officially cancelling this tournament and leaving now. Bye!

He then storms off with his crew.

Macho Man: OHHH! THE MACHO MAN DOESN'T LIKE THIS! HE WANTED TO WIN THE AWA SOUTHERN HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!

Jerry Lawler: Well then, Savage, I'll tell you what... how about we face off on March 17, 1985 at the CWA show in Memphis, Tennessee. I'll put the title on the line!

Sansa: This is stupid. So, uhh... Tyrion. I see your arm is all busted up.

She tries to make small talk, but all she can do is point out ways she finds Tyrion to be unattractive since she's shallow and only cares about physical beauty. 

Tyrion: Ah yes, one of your Northern brethren hit me with a mace in battle and knocked me off a horse.  Anyway, you seem a bit mopey. Is it because your dad is dead and we're warring against your family?

Sansa: The father was a traitor and so are the rest of my family!

Tyrion: Hahaha, oh shit gurl. You don't have to lie to me. I'm not a dick like Joffrey. I can tell that you think you had to say that. But really, you're just like an innocent little deer surrounded by wolves.

Sansa creeps up to Tyrion and whispers in his ear. 

Sansa: Not wolves... Lions.

Tyrion: Oh man. Direct! But I'm just a little lion. I mean you no harm. Like those videos of baby lions at the zoo playing with the zookeepers.

Tyrion leaves, with Sansa thinking he's a lot nicer than Joffrey.  Still, she used to think that Cersei was nice too. It's all lies. She has to remember that she can't trust any of these damn Lannisters.

~~ Epilogue ~~

Randy Savage would go on to win the AWA Southern Heavyweight Championship in Memphis, defeating Lawler. The feud between the two would last until June 3 of that year, when Savage and Lawler fought in a "loser leaves town" ol' Memphis chicken coop steel cage of doom match. Savage lost, as he had signed with the WWF and would make his debut there later in the month. Jerry Lawler would go on to be a 52-time AWA Southern Heavyweight Championship until the title was unified with the AWA International Heavyweight Championship and the NWA Mid-America Heavyweight Championship to create the CWA Heavyweight Championship. He would drop the belt in 1988 to Max Pain. By October 1989, the CWA Heavyweight Championship was retired and the belt reverted to become the now-USWA Southern Heavyweight Championship. Lawler would have two reigns with the belt in USWA before it was closed in 1997.  In 2000, the belt was brought back by the newly formed Memphis Championship Wrestling and Lawler had the inaugural reign of the title, winning it in a tournament final. But MCW was short-lived and closed the very next year. In 2004, the belt was revived again under the banner of the Memphis Wrestling promotion. Lawler would have two reigns with the title until vacating it.  Lawler's son, Brian Christopher, would be the last to hold the Southern Heavyweight Championship before the promotion and the title itself became inactive. While Christopher could still technically be viewed as the reigning champion, the title is largely considered "abandoned."

Kim Cattrall would win the 2002 Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress for playing the role of Samantha Jones in "Sex and the City."