AGoT 23: Daenerys III

Dany is staring at the vast emptiness of the grasslands that are known as the "Dothraki Sea." She guesses it's kind of like a sea. Sort of. I dunno. She contemplates grass a lot. Way too much grass contemplating going on for anyone with normal mental health.

Dany: Oh wow, I really am far ahead of everyone else. My brother is all the way back there, being slow. I don't even know why he came along for this ride. Oh right, because he doesn't trust Drogo to give him that army he wants. Punk ass. I guess I should wait for them all.

Jorah Mormont: As you command, by queen.

Dany: Queen? That's Khaleesi to you!

Jorah: Sure, I could get used to that.

She uses this time waiting to think extensively about how she used to have sores all over her body when she started riding. She was scared and depressed and in pain and wanted to kill herself and shit. Drogo would come to her at night and take her from behind. Dark stuff.

But then it all started to get better one night when she had this strange dream...

Shaq: What you need is icy to dull the pain, and hot to relax it away.

Dany: Holy crap, 15× NBA All-Star Shaquille O'Neal! What are you doing here? 

Shaq: Hot to relax it away. 

Dany: Huh? Didn't you already say that?

Shaq: HOT TO RELAX IT AWAY! HOT TO RELAX IT AWAY! HOT!

Dream Shaq suddenly transforms into a dragon and breaths scalding hot fire on her. 

Dany: AGHH!!!!

Yet Dream Shaq was correct. The hot did relax it away. And after that dream of the dragon cleansing her with flame - she's felt better every day. 

Dany: Ah man, just relaxing here and waiting, thinking about my dreams and grass.

But what she doesn't notice is how long she's been daydreaming. Finally her stupid brother had cauht up, and he is not happy. 

Viserys: How DARE you speed ahead of the Dragon and tell him to stay back on a ridge! The Dragon don't play that way! You have woke the Dragon!

Viserys takes a swing at her, but she swings back. All the riders of the Khalasar look at Viserys like he's lost his damn mind. One of the four main riders assigned from the Khal to Dany, Jhogo, pulls out his whip and whips Viserys in his stupid ass neck, pulling him to the ground.

Viserys: *cries like baby*

Jhogo: [in Dothraki] Uh, so you want me to kill this little shit?

Irri: I can translate for you, Khaleesi. Jhogo asks if we should kill this little shit.

Dany: Oh wow - you're translating for me? I thought you were supposed to be my riding instructor while Jhiqui was the translator or whatever.

Irri: Well, you can already ride so that pretty much made that role redundant. So now I'll do the translating thing.

Dany: But doesn't that just make Jhiqui the redundant one?

Irri shrugs. 

Dany: Anyway, tell Jhogo no, not to kill my shithead brother. But take his horse away and make him walk the rest of the way back.

Irri: OH SHIT! Take his horse away and make him walk? That's like the ultimate Dothraki diss! That's worse than killing him. You're a stone cold bitch, Dany.

Dany: Yes, cold. But also hot.

Viserys: WHAT?! The Dragon will not be treated this way! Jorah, kill these insolent little shits!

Jorah: Nah, I'm on team Dany now. Your ass should walk.

Viserys: Nooooooo! You serve me, the Dragon!

Jorah: Not any more.

He rides up next to Dany and they leave Viserys in the dust. 

Dany: Wow, I can't believe I fought back. That's the first time I've ever done that. Do you think I woke the Dragon?

Jorah: Please, that bitch ain't no dragon. Maybe, like, the shadow of a snake or something. Not even a cool venomous snake. More like a shitty little milk snake. Your brother Rhaegar was the last of the dragons.

Dany: What? How can you say such a thing? Viserys is the rightful heir to the throne.

Jorah: Whatever. Would you really want that little punk to be king?

Dany: He says the people of Westeros pray for his return. They secretly sew Dragon flags and yearn for him to cross the narrow sea.

Jorah: Hahaha, I hope you don't believe that bullshit. You seem too smart for that. The common people pray for rain, healthy children, a summer that never ends, and the return of the McRib. It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as th--"

--Alarms start flashing and horns sound. Chairry, Magic Screen, Pterri, Mr. Window, Clockey, Conky 2000 and all the others start shouting wildly and flailing their arms/wings/seat cushions/whatever they have around. The text "Game of Thrones" flashes again and again.

Dany: What the hell?

Cowboy Curtis: You just said the Secret Word!

Pee-Wee: HEH-HEH!!

And as quickly as they all appeared, they all vanish right back into the tall grass of the Dothraki Sea.

Dany: Creepy.

Jorah: Anyway, what I was trying to say is the people don't actually care.

Dany: You're right. Viserys could never rule. I know that. I think I've known for a long time. He couldn't lead an army. He couldn't lead ants to a picnic.

Dany races ahead to the camp for the night with her handmaids. She can't wait until Viserys stumbles in later all emasculated.  In her tent that night, probably as she's getting ready for another scalding hot bath, she fondles her dragon eggs and thinks they feel kind of hot.

Dany: I wonder if any dragons are out there alive.

Irri: No, they are all dead. Killed by men. It is known.

Jhiqui: It is known.

Dany: Wow, so you're just going to repeat her, huh? I guess you really are redundant.

Doreah: Oh yeah? Well I heard that dragons come from the moon. There used to be two moons, but one broke open and it was really a dragon egg and a bunch of dragons came out. Maybe one day the other moon will crack open and we'll have more dragons.

Irri: No, the moon is not a fucking egg, despite what that worst episode ever of Doctor Who said. It is known. 

Jhiqui: It is known

Dany: Okay girls, get out of here now. Not you, Doreah. I want to... "have dinner" with you.

Irri: Hey! Why don't we get to have dinner with you too? Aren't we buds?

Dany: No, it's a euphemism. She's the one who is supposed to teach me how to be a better lover, remember? We're gonna... you know...

Irri: Ah, I get it now.

Jhiqui: It is known

Dany: Jesus... you are just totally useless, Jhiqui, aren't you?

That night, Khal Drogo wants it the usual way. Doggy-style.

Dany: Nah, Doreah taught me this new shit. Check this out. It's something called "cowgirl."

Anyway, I guess we'll skip anything more descriptive than that because it's gross, since she's thirteen. 

Dany: No! I'm fourteen now! It's my birthday.

Oh, right. Because that's sooooo much better.

Dany's OBGYN: Also, you're pregnant.

Dany: WHAT?!

AGoT 22: Arya II

Arya is eating some bullshit dinner in the Small Hall (which is ironically quite large) with all these bullshit members of the Stark party that came down to Winterfell and her bullshit sister. Jeyne Poole is even there. Yeah. Arya hates them all and just wants to run around and stab things. Especially Joffrey. Fuck that guy. 

Finally, her dad Ned arrives. 

Ned: Ugh, what a long day with that goddamn King's Small Council. That thing is the worst.

Jory Cassel: Hey Ned! Sorry we started dinner without you. We were hungry as hell. Hey man, are you psyched about this awesome Hand's Tournament that's being planned in your honor? Everyone is talking about it!

Ned: Shit Jory, you had to bring up that shit? And why is everyone calling it the Hand's Tournament? I'm the Hand and I don't even want that shit. Maybe people should start talking about that.

Sansa: Oh! A tournament! It sounds like so much fun. Can I go daddy, can I?

Ned: Fuck no. That's some violent bullshit that my children do not need to see. And by that I mean my girl children, since I was totally okay with Bran watching a beheading in Chapter 1.

Septa Mordane: Ned, the tournament will be held in your honor. It would be quite odd if your family was not there. Sansa and Arya are old enough to view it.

Ned: Ugh, fine.

Arya: I don't want to go to a stupid tournament. Joffrey will be there and I fucking hate him.

Sansa: Good. They probably don't want you at the tournament anyway. It will be better without you.

Ned stands up and starts shouting at his insolent little children. 

Ned: I swear to the old gods, if you two little shits don't calm the fuck down and get along, I will sell you both to Tyroshi slavers myself. Or just slice your damn heads off with Ice.

Ned takes a breath and regains his composure. 

Ned: You know what? I seem to not even have an appetite. I think I'll excuse myself for the evening.

He leaves. Everyone goes back to talking about the tournament, which Arya thinks is bullshit. All these people talk about being honorable and knightly. Arya used to believe them. But what did any of them do when Joffrey wanted to have Nymeria killed or when the Hound killed Mycah? What did anyone do when Lady was killed? Not a damn thing.  Arya looks at her cold food and pushes it away.

Arya: I'm out too. Peace, bitches.

She rolls out. 

Septa Mordane: Arya! You didn't touch your food! You get back here right now!

Arya just flips her the bird and runs. 

Arya reaches her room and slams the door behind her, latching it shut. She hates everything about Kings Landing and her new place at the Red Keep - except for this awesome-ass latch on the door. Nobody can get through that latch. It's the best. 

One of the guards knocks and knocks at the door. 

Guard: Arya! Open this door now! Are you in there?

Arya: Uhh... no?

Guard: Oh, okay then.

The guard leaves. 

Arya goes to her chest and digs through it, finally pulling out Needle. 

Arya: Yeah, I'm going to fuck some people up with this shit. If only I could climb like Bran, I could escape from here and steal food and live on my own. Just me travelling around and having zany adventures on the road. Maybe making friends and getting up to hi-jinx. This sounds like an excellent way to spend the next couple of books. I wish my brother Jon was with me though. He'd be a cool travel buddy.

There is another knock at the door. 

Ned: Arya? Arya? Come on now. Open up.

Arya hears from his voice that he's not angry. He's just sad. She goes to open the door.

Ned: Arya, what am I going to do with you?  Sometimes I feel like---WHOA, what the hell is that in your hand?

Arya realizes that she was a total dumbass and still had Needle in her hand when she opened the door. She was so excited swinging it around that she forgot she even had it. 

Arya: Uhh... nothing?

Ned: Who did you steal that from?

Arya: No one! (ha) It's mine!

Ned grabs it and inspects it closer. 

Ned: Hrmmm, clearly the work of Mikken. A very fine blade. Just how in the hell am I having swords made in my own forge and don't even know about it? For my own daughter!

He sits down, exacerbated.

Ned: Who gave you this sword? Tell me now!

Arya: Snitches get stitches. That's the Winterfell way. Straight hood.

Ned: Good, that was a test and you passed. But you know this isn't a play thing, right? I should break this sword over my damn knee.

Arya: I know it's not a play thing. I wasn't playing. I'm training.  And Needle won't break. The sword is hella strong.

Ned: Hahahaha, Needle? So the sword has a name? You know... you remind me of my sister Lyanna more and more. She would have had a sword if father let her. You act just like her. You even look like her.

Arya: Whaaaaat? But everyone said Lyanna was beautiful.

Ned: Yeah, she was. So I hope that helps you with your self-confidence issues. But would you even know what to do with this sword?

Arya: Uhhh... stick 'em with the pointy end?

Ned: Hrm, okay. I guess you do know what to do.

Arya then starts sobbing. 

Arya: I made Mycah play with me! I wanted to train! It's my fault he's dead!

She falls into her father's arm, crying even harder. 

Ned: No, it's not your fault.

Arya: I hate them, daddy! I hate them all! I hate the Queen, I hate the Hound, I hate Joffrey, and I hate the King! Joffrey lied! And Sansa lied too! She knew what happened.

Ned: Yes, we all lie. But sometimes lying can be good. Like how you lied about Nymeria running away.

Arya looks up as if she had been caught red-handed. 

Arya: What? Did that punk ass Jory sell me out?

Ned: Please, he didn't need to.  I know Nymeria would never run away on her own. She loves you too much. You obviously had to do something to protect her from the Queen. To make her leave.  I know how much that must have hurt you.

Arya: I had to throw rocks at her. She still kept coming back though. It was so hard. I miss Nymeria so much!

Ned: Right, and you lied and said she ran away. To protect her. You did the right thing. Winter is coming, Arya. We need to stick together. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

Arya: That's some deep shit. I think I'll remember that and bring it up again in Season 7 of the TV show.

Ned: What I mean is we Starks need to stick together. You can't stay angry at your sister. We have so many real enemies down here - we can't become enemies with each other. So pretty please with sugar on top, don't stab Sansa.

Arya: I'll... try not to.

Three days later... Arya is hanging out in her room.

Vayon Poole: Oh hey Arya, you need to go to the Small Hall for some vague reason I won't explain.

Arya: Sure. Whatever.

She goes.  When she gets there, instead of finding all the rest of the Stark party she finds that all the dinner tables have been pushed to the side and it's wide open. There is only one other person there - some bald guy.  Or you can imagine that he has an epic afro like in the TV show, whatever works for you. 

Syrio Forel: Whattup girl? I'm your "dance instructor."

Arya: Ugh, I don't want to learn to dance. That's some bullshit Sansa stuff.

Syrio: No, did you not see those dangling quotes around the words "dance instructor?" It's a euphemism. I used to be the First Sword of Braavos. The finest swordsman and protector of the Sealord. Your dad sent me here to teach you how to sword fight.

Arya: OH SHIT! My dad is the best ever.

Syrio throws a wooden sword at her. She misses it. She goes to pick it up. It's heavy. 

Arya: Ugh. This is heavy.

See? 

Syrio: I will train you. And tomorrow you will catch it! Now fix your grip, boy! Not so tight.

Arya: But what if I drop it?

Syrio: The sword must become like it is part of your arm. How could you drop your own arm?

Arya: I dunno. Industrial accident or something?

Syrio: Don't sass me, boy.

Arya: Why do you keep calling me boy? I'm a girl!

Syrio: What does it matter? You are a sword! A sword doesn't have a gender!

Arya: Oh, just like how dragons don't have gender in high Valyrian?

Syrio: That's knowledge you're not supposed to know anything about as a nine year old girl.  Besides, you're getting several books ahead of the story now. That's some A Feast for Crows shit there. Let's have other characters like Aemon get to that at a much later point.  Now let us fight! And by that I am not referring to that hack and slash shit that you people do here in Westeros. I'm going to teach you the awesome fighting skills of Braavos... the Water Dance!

Arya: Okay, so now that whole "dancing instructor" thing makes more sense. All I needed was some additional context.

Syrio: Oh, I will beat your ass sore these next couple of weeks, boy.

AGoT 21: Tyrion III

Tyrion is at a feast in the Lord Commander's chamber, yukking it up while drinking wine and eating crabs.

Mormont: Oh man, Tyrion. Do you have to go tomorrow? You're hilarious. We could use men like you up on the Wall!

Tyrion: Oh, you need men like me? Well then I'll make sure to tell all the imps of the Seven Kingdoms to come here.

They all laugh and eat more crab. I know that joke didn't sound all that hilarious but you just had to be there, man. You're coming in all "in media res."  You're missing context.  One person who is not laughing though is fucking Alliser Thorne. 

Thorne: This Imp mocks us and he mocks the Night's Watch.

Tyrion: Oh come now, everyone needs a little mocking. And how did you get your name? Was it based on the giant thorn up your ass?

Everyone else cracks up. 

Thorne: Fuck that, you wanna fight or something? I can fight you!

Tyrion: Yes, let's!

Tyrion pulls out his tiny little crab fork for pulling meat out of claws and pokes Allister with it. The whole room laughs again as Throne walks away, fuming. 

Tyrion: Dibs on his crab! To the victor go the spoils!

Mormont: Oh man, that was some hilarious shit there.

Tyrion: Speaking of shit, Thorne should be cleaning the stables rather than being the man-at-arms. Serious, fuck that dude.

Mormont: Plenty of people can clean up shit. Thorne is one of the few actual knights we have here. Quite frankly, our ranks suck these days.

Jaremy Rykker: Aye, Thorne and I fought for the Mad King back in the day. Then your father Tywin marched into town and gave us the option of taking up the black or dying.

Tyrion: Yeah, sorry. My dad is quite a dick.  Some more wine, please!

Bowen Marsh: You've got quite the appetite for such a small man, Tyrion.

Maester Aemon: Oh, I think he's actually quite a giant among us.

Everyone suddenly goes quiet. Aemon is the wise, old Maester of Castle Black and everyone listens to what he has to say. He's over 100, bald, and totally blind.

Jaremy: Uh, Aemon. You're blind so I just want to tell you that he's actually quite tiny.

Mormont smacks Jaremy in the head. 

Mormont: He's speaking metaphorically!

Tyrion: Well, thank you good Maester. I think that's the first time anyone has ever called me a giant. You're quite kind.

Aemon: And that's the first time anyone has ever called me kind!

Everyone laughs again. See? Even the old guy is in on this. Fun times!

Mormont:  But seriously, Tyrion. We need you to put in a good word with the King and your father. We're dying up here. The Night's Watch is running out of men. We need them to send us men! Barely anyone here can read. Barely anyone can think or lead. We've all got a bunch of dumbasses here. Present company excluded, of course.

Tyrion: I'll... do what I can.

Tyrion will, but he sort of immediately knew once he got back everyone would laugh in his face.

Mormont: It will be Winter soon. Winter is Coming! You don't know how bad it will be then.

Tyrion: Oh man, on that depressing note, I think it's time to call it a night.

Mormont: Well, like I said. We're going to miss you! On your way back to Winterfell, we'll make sure to give you an escort.

Tyrion: Ah, will it include Jon Snow? I'm sure he'd love to see his family again.

Mormont: No. He's got to put his family aside. We brothers of the Watch are his only family now. It's best to leave that all behind. You think I don't want to help my family out? I mean it's all gone to shit for the Mormonts of Bear Island since my son, Jorah, had to flee the country.

Tyrion accepts it for what it is, and eventually takes leave of the Commander's room. But instead of going to bed, he walks to the giant elevator that takes people up to the top of the Wall. He wants to see it all one last time. Because why not? 

He yanks the little chain indicating he wants to go up. The ride is slow. He sees the Lord Commander's tower. Soon after, he sees the distant lights of the nearby Mole's Town. Beyond that there is very little but darkness.  Eventually, he reaches the top.

Wall Guard: Oh hey look! The Imp made a super smart decision to come to the top of a 700-foot tall, ice-covered wall while he's completely drunk.

Tyrion: Yes, I always make good decisions.

Tyrion walks along in the cold until he comes upon a brother watching the wall... a brother with his pet direwolf. 

Jon Snow: Oh shit, Tyrion man. Whattup? Wasn't sure I'd see you again.

Tyrion: Well, of course I had to say goodbye. So how is your training with the men going?

Jon: They're getting better. Even Pyp.

Tyrion: Who the fuck is Pyp? One of the guys who was fighting with you before that didn't have a name in an earlier chapter?

Jon: Retroactively, let's just say yes. One of those was Pyp.

Tyrion: Hey, is there any message I can bring back to Winterfell for you? I'll be stopping there on the way down.

Jon: Oh shit, yeah. Tell Robb he needs to send me a box of Kit Kat bars. Or two boxes maybe. Tell Rickon he can have all my shit but don't let him have the porno mags until he's older. Tell Septon Chayle I'm sorry about those library books I lost. Tell Theon that I still fucking hate him. Tell Jeyne Poole that no I don't want to date her because she looks too much like my sister, Arya. Tell Hullen that all those practical jokes with the horses was me.  No wait. Jeyne Poole and Hullen went down to King's Landing with father now that I think about it so they wouldn't be in Winterfell anymore. So instead of doing that, maybe you should tell--

Tyrion: --Uhm, maybe just keep the requests down to like one or two people. I didn't bring a notepad up here with me.

Jon: Just tell Bran, you know, whatever. Find a way to make him feel better like you made me feel better. You always pull out that deep shit. You're such a bro, man.

Jon takes off his glove and reaches out his hand. Tyrion responds and does the same. They shake. Then they instantly put the gloves back on because it's really fucking cold.

They stare off beyond the Wall into the darkness where wolves howl.

Jon: Oh man, I wish Benjen would come back. If he doesn't... I might have to go out and find him.

Tyrion: Then who will go out and find you?

Jon: What?

Tyrion: Oh, sorry. Did I say that aloud? I thought I was internalizing. 

AGoT 20: Eddard IV

Ned finally comes through the gates and arrives in King's Landing after all this goddamn bullshit. 

Ned: That was the worst trip ever. Now what I need is a hot bath and some cans of Bud Lite Lime.

I told you that the Starks are the white trash of Westeros. 

Royal Steward: Ser Hand, I fear I must summon to to a meeting of the King's Small Counsel.

Ned: WHAT? I just got here! I haven't even showered.

Royal Steward: Your presence is needed immediately.

Ned: I hate this King's Landing shit.

Ned grumbles and figures its not best to piss off everyone on his first day in town. He then orders his own men to take care of Sansa and Arya to get them all situated with their new rooms at the Red Keep.

Ned: And don't let crazy ass Arya go wandering off!

Ned borrows some fresh clothes and goes to the council room.  There he finds four men waiting... Littlefinger, Renly, Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle. He doesn't recognize all of them yet though.

Ned: Oh shit, do I know you? No wait... I got it... you're that villain from For Your Eyes Only and Indiana Jones 3. Fuck yeah, man. Glad to see you're still working.

Pycelle: Whut?

Varys: Lord Stark, I am glad to see you've arrived safely after hearing about all your troubles on the road. We are all hoping that poor Prince Joffrey is doing better.

Ned: Yeah. Joffrey. That's who I'm worried about.  And OH SHIT... Renly, man. I just noticed this. But you look just like Robert used to look before he got old and fat.

Renly: Uh... thanks?

Littlefinger: Ah yes, but Renly is dressed much better than Robert ever did, of course. Why I think he spends more money on clothes than women do!

Renly: Is that a fucking "gay people like fashion" joke, Littlefinger? Fuck you, man.

Littlefinger: Oh, and Ned. I'm Petyr Baelish by the way. You've probably heard your wife talk about me. Maybe scream my name out in bed by mistake or something?

Ned: Oh, I've heard people talk about you before. People like my older Brandon. He talked about how he pummeled the living shit out of you.

Renly: Hahaha, fuck you Littlefinger! Hilarious. I like this Ned cat already.

Littlefinger: Yes, your brother gave me a gift. If you call a scar I have for life a gift. 

Pycelle: Okay, so can we start this meeting or what? I'm all old as fuck and am about to fall asleep. Or die.

Ned: True dat. Where the hell is the rest of the Small Council? Where are Stannis and Barristan Selmy? Where is the King?

Varys: Oh, Stannis is out at Dragonstone doing who the fuck knows what. And Selmy is probably still riding in with the King's party.

Renly: Don't wait for my brother. He finds this whole "running the kingdom" part of being king boring and he leaves it to us. But he did send us a note.

He gestures towards Littlefinger, who pulls a note from the King out from his sleeve and hands it to Ned. 

Ned: This says that the King wants to hold an extravagant tournament in honor of the new Hand of the King that costs 90,000 gold dragons. What the fuck? I don't want this shit. Not in my name.  How much money does the royal bank have to pay for this?

Littlefinger: Ah, as master of coin I can easily tell you that we have exactly negative six million gold dragons.

Ned: Ah, six million. Not that bad. Wait... did you say NEGATIVE?  How the hell did this happen? The Targaryens left this kingdom with gold riches! I refuse to believe that Jon Arryn simply allowed the King to spend like this when he was the Hand. And while I'm complaining about money... why are the gold coins still called "dragons?" Shouldn't they be called "stags" now or something? The Targaryens have been gone for a while. Surely we should have melted all the coins with dragons and Targaryen rulers on them and replaced them with Baratheon/stag coins. Or you know what other male deer-related currency would be good for a name given that the stag is already a silver coin? BUCKS! We should call them "bucks!"

Littlefinger: The King didn't always listen to the late Hand's advise. And as I'm sure you can tell by now... Robert is a terrible king.

Ned: Man, I need to get out of this. I can't deal with this nonsense. Peace, y'all.

Ned rolls out, heading back to the Tower of the Hand. 

Littlefinger: Wait up, Ned!

Ned: Oh damn, not you.

Littlefinger: Let me help guide you, Ned. This city is unfamilar to you.

Ned: Nah, I can find my own way.

Littlefinger: I insist. Here! Follow me!

Ned: Dude, I just got here and even I know that is not the way to the Tower of the Hand in the Red Keep.

Littlefinger: No. It's the way to your wife.

Ned: Bitch, do not fuck with me.

Littlefinger: I'm telling the truth!

Littlefinger leads him through the castle and then out of it. Then they get on some horses and ride through the city until they reach a disgusting, filthy building that looks like some dilapidated hellhole which probably has seven-year-old crusted semen stains everywhere.

Ned: This must be one of those Ramadas that I hear all about. Nasty.

Littlefinger: Close, but no. It's a whorehouse. I own it.

Ned: Damnit Littlefinger. I don't have time for your bullshit. I don't need to see a whore. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to--

Littlefinger: --No, your wife if here.

Ned: Oh, my brother was waaaay too easy on your ass.

Ned pulls out a knife and is about to slit Littlefinger's throat. 

Rodrick: Yo, Ned!

Ned: What the hell? That sounds like like my bro Rodrick Cassel!

Rodrick: It's me! Hey Ned!

Ned: Nah, you ain't Rodrick. You don't look anything like him.

Rodrick: I shaved my face.

Ned: Hrm... WHAT A CLEVER DISGUISE!!!! What the hell are you doing here, man?

He puts his knife away. 

Rodrick: Cat's here!

Ned: What? Really?

Littlefinger: Where better to hide a noble woman where nobody would look than a brothel?

Ned: I dunno, like a garden or something? A blacksmith shop? A butchery? A bakery? Pretty much any store in Flea Bottom. Maybe the old abandoned Dragonpit on Rhaenys's hill? The Guildhall of the Alchemists?

Littlefinger: Hrm, I guess those could have all been good choices.

They go upstairs in the brothel, where Cat is waiting. 

Cat and Ned embrace. Cat holds on extra long and gives Ned some extra tongue, making sure Baelish is watching. 

Littlefinger: Whatever.

Ned: Shit honey, what happened to your hands?

Cat: An assassin with a knife tried to kill Bran. I fought him off. Well, I mean Bran's direwolf did most of the work. That wolf saved Bran's life.

Ned: What the hell? Why would anyone try to kill Bran? Who would do such a thing?

Cat hands him the dagger.  Ned is now really pissed about having to kill Lady after learning how Bran's dog protected him.

Cat: It belonged to Tyrion Lannister.

Ned: The Imp? But why would he...?

Littlefinger: Surely he did not act alone, Ned. All the Lannisters must have been in this together.

Ned: And what of Robert? Did he know?

Ned doesn't believe its possible. But then he thinks back about Robert being cool with the Mountain murdering Prince Aegon and Princess Elia Martell. He was cool with sending an assassin to kill this young Daenerys girl across the sea. He was cool with executing Sansa's dog, Lady.  Robert is a sick fuck. 

Littlefinger: I doubt Robert knew much. It is easy to hide things from those who choose not to look.

Ned: Then we must go to the King and tell him!

Littlefinger: Without proof? That would be treason.

Ned: We have proof. That dagger right there in your hands.

Littlefinger: Not enough, but I will be happy to assist you both in finding more evidence. 

Cat: Yes Ned, I've told him about our suspicious that the Lannisters also killed Jon Arryn based on my sister's letter.

Ned: Oh yeah, that was a great idea to do that without consulting with me first.

Cat: Please Ned, we can trust Littlefinger. Why, he is like a brother to me.

Ned: Hahaha, FRIEND-ZONED!

Littlefinger angrily crosses his arms.

Ned: And does Varys know?

Cat: No, not yet. But that man... I swear he must have some sort of magical ability to figure things out.

Ned: Please Petyr, let my wife and I have some time alone to discuss some things.

Littlefinger: Oh, I get it. "Discuss." Cool, cool. I'll just be leaving. Just know to make the bed vibrate you have to add one silver stag for every three minutes.

Baelish leaves. 

Ned: Darling, I'll take over from here. Thank you for letting me know, but now you'll need to get safely back home.

Cat: But I haven't even seen our daughters!

Ned: You know that's not a good idea. Besides, you need to get north and tell people to get ready. Tell Tallhart and Glover to fortify Moat Cailin, and Manderly to strengthen the defenses at White Harbor. And tell trustworthy Theon to send word to his father in case we need to use their fleet. You know, because they've never openly rebelled against us before previously.

Cat: Shit, you readying for war? And who now? Don't expect anyone to remember all these characters.

Ned: I hope it will not come to war. But if Robert doesn't believe me... then we might be in for some trouble. 

AGoT 19: Jon III

Jon is at the Wall now. He has been for a few weeks. Not long after he showed up, his uncle Benjen had to leave for a few days. Apparently out on some mission looking for a missing member of the Night's Watch named Waymar Royce. You might remember him from the prologue. Benjen was supposed to be back a while ago though. He promised to be back by Jon's 15th birthday. He hasn't returned. So Jon has no uncle to look after him anymore up here. The only comfort he has is the comfort of humiliating others who he's better than during sparring matches.

Ser Alliser Thorne is Castle Black's master-at-arms, and is watching over all of these fights by the new recruits.

Thorne: Okay, you untalented little shits. Fight!

Jon is sparring with some guy named Grenn. He kicks Grenn's ass and injures his wrist.

Grenn: AGH! You broke it, asshole!

Jon: Whatever. I'm the best! My fighting is so good. I'm going to do well here in Castle Black because I'm so good. But also so alone. So, so very alone. 

Thorne: Okay Lord Snow, that's enough of that, you stupid bastard. And I literally mean bastard.

Jon: Ugh, "Lord Snow." I hate that shit. DON'T CALL ME THAT!

Everyone Else: Hahaha, that really annoys him. Let's all call him that!

Jon: AGH! Why don't people like me? Can't they see how good I am?! Well fuck them all. They're just a bunch of assholes. Tyrion warned me about this. Whatever, I've got Ghost. He's the only friend I'll ever need.

Jon goes back to his room and tries to go to sleep with Ghost at his bedside. He thinks about how much he misses his family. But Benjen said this is his family now. Which is such bullshit.

Grenn: Hey asshole!

Jon looks up. Grenn and a few of his buddies, Toad and some other random characters who don't even get names, have arrived at his door. 

Grenn: You wanna fight for real punk? We can fight!

Jon: Nah, I don't want to fight you.

Grenn: Your mom is a ho.

Jon: WHAT?!

Grenn: You're a bastard. So who is your mom? Probably a ho, right? Ned Stark put his dick in some crazy ass trick ho that was yo mamma.

Jon: That's not true. THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!

Jon doesn't know shit about his mom, but he always kind of just assumed she was some proper Lady. Which is a pretty stupid to assume. Anyway, this pisses off Jon pretty hard. 

Jon: Don't talk about my mom!

Grenn: Jon Snow... yo momma so fat that Bran the Builder got the inspiration to build the Wall after seeing her.

Jon: I said shut up!

Grenn: Yo mamma so ugly when she was a Mole's Town whore they used to pay her to put clothes back on.

Jon: Oh, It's on like Donkey Kong, punk ass Aurochs-looking motherfucker. I'LL KILL YOU!

Toad: What the hell is an Aurochs?

Jon: An extinct species of cattle.

Toad: That's a pretty, ahhh, pretty obscure reference there.

Jon and Grenn go out into the yard to fight. A crowd gathers just like at high school. As they begin fighting, Donal Noye breaks it up. He's the Castle Black smith, armorer, and steward. 

Donal: Okay, break it up! Break it up!

Grenn: Oh, you gonna pull us apart? How punk? With your one arm?

Donal: Awww, you just had to fucking go there, didn't you?

That's right, Noye is also missing an arm. Which you think would make him a pretty terrible blacksmith, right?  Nope. He's still bad ass. He tears the two apart and sends the others along their way while repremanding Jon. 

Donal: Now listen up, punk. There is no honor is killing some idiot boy like Grenn.

Jon: He was talking about my mom!

Donal: Hey look, saying something doesn't mean its true. Besides, yo mamma jokes are how we get by here on the Wall.

Random Brother: Yo mamma so dumb she lost a game of Charades to Hodor.

Jon: WHAT?! How do you even know who Hodor is to make that joke?

Random Brother: Uhh... Benjen told us about him?

Jon: Ah, okay.

Donal: At any rate, boy... pay them no heed! When you're in the Night's Watch you're in the Night's Watch for life. These will be your brothers from this day forth. So get used to it.

That didn't make Jon feel any better. He thought about the rest of his life. He had barely even had a life up to this point. Unlike Donal, who was an old man who had probably gotten tons of ass and gone on enough zany life adventures to lose an arm out of it. Jon would have none of that. He'd be stuck on the Wall until he died. But I suppose if he did die then after he came back he could leave the Wall. 

Jon: Huh? What was that?

Nothing. 

Jon: All these guys hate me because I'm better!

Donal: No, they hate you because you THINK you're better. You're just a bastard and a bully.

Jon: What? ME? A bully! No fucking way! I've been bullied my whole life for being a bastard. I know what it's like being bullied. I'd never be one myself.

Donal: How many of these boys have ever had formal training with a sword? How many of them had masters-at-arms looking over them and training them since they were children? None. You think it's hard being a bastard son of a Lord? Bitch, please. You've had everything none of these boys ever had. Of course you're going to kick their ass in a fight. You best learn how to get along with these people Lord Snow, or you're going to have to sleep with one eye open.

Jon: Gripping my pillow tight?

Donal: Get the fuck out my face with that shit.

Jon walks away to get a breath of fresh air... away from everyone else. He stares at the Wall. It's the biggest and oldest thing in the Seven Kingdoms--

Grenn: --EXCEPT FOR JON SNOW'S MOMMA!

--Jon looks at it and thinks of it as the end of the world. 

Tyrion: Ah, Jon. Makes you wonder what lies beyond, right?  I mean other than your probably dead Uncle.

Jon: Shit, when did you show up here? I haven't seen your ass in forever. What with you being an all-important special guest here at Castle Black and staying in that King's Tower place.

Tyrion: Oh, I got here like 20 minutes ago, Lord Snow. You've been staring for a while like a weirdo.

Jon: You too with that "Lord Snow" bullshit? Fuck you, man. I thought we were cool after grumpkins and snark.

Tyrion: My apologies. But do you think I like being called "the Imp" either? And yet I'm called it all the time. So you know what I've done? I've taken that word back from the people who used it to harm me. Now I call myself the Imp. You can turn one of your weaknesses into one of your strengths.

Jon: Oh, you mean like with rappers using the N word? 

Tyrion: Dude, I want you to, like, never fucking mention that again or I will slap you like I fucking slapped Joffrey. Don't. Don't. Don't. Just fucking don't... ever... again. Ever.

Jon: Sorry. I'm just stressed out, man. It's my uncle, you know. He promised he'd be back.

Tyion: Yes, lots of brothers of the Watch have been going missing recently. There is a Cabot Cove, Maine level of unexpected crime and mischief up here these days.  Still, best not to dwell on dark shit like that. I'm hungry. Let's go get some food.

And so they go to get some food from the Common Hall. Jon picks a bench far away from everyone else who he hates and sits down with Tyrion to eat. But just as Jon is getting his eat on...

Thorne: Lord Snow, you stupid bastard, the Lord Commander wants to see you. A raven has arrived. It's about your half-brother.

Jon: What? Bran?! OH NO!!!! Has he... *sniff*...

Tyrion: --My sypathies, Jon.

Jon jumps up from his chair and goes to the Lord Commander's Keep.  There the Commander, Jeor Mormont, hands Jon the note. 

Jon: OH SHIT! Bran's alive! He's alive! FUCK YEEEEAAAAAAA!!!!

Raven Alive! Alive! Also, corn.

Jon rushes back to the Common Hall and starts dancing and high five-ing everyone. 

Jon: He's alive! Bran's alive!


Grenn: What the fuck did Lord Snow just high five me for? His half brother isn't dead and he thinks that means we get to be best friends now?

Jon: Oh, I'm so sorry for being a douche, Grenn. I can teach you how to defend from that move that I used to fuck up your hand with.

Thorne: Please, you could teach a crippled boy to warg into a wolf and learn to juggle before you could teach these shitty kids proper swordsplay.

Jon: Oh, let's make a wager on that because I bet I'm a better trainer than you.

Everyone in the Hall: OH SNAP!!!

They start laughing and pointing at Thorne. 

Thorne: Oh, I am going to spend my ever last breath thinking of ways to fuck this kid over.

Raven: No seriously people, I want some fucking corn. 

AGoT 18: Catelyn IV

Cat Stark and Rodrick Cassel are aboard the ship Storm Dancer, now very close to pulling into King's Landing.

Cat: I see you've shaved, Rodrick.

Rodrick: Yes, well, I've been puking on myself all voyage long. So I figured I'd get rid of my puke-crusted facial hair.  However, this also coincidentally has the benefit of me now looking slightly different. It will be very important that we go unnoticed in town, lest Lannister henchmen detect our arrival.

The ship's captain, Moreo, walks up.

Moreo: Ah, I hope the voyage has been to your liking.

Rodrick: To my liking? Wasn't I just talking about how I was puking the whole time? Bumpy ass ship.

Cat: Yes, Captain. The ride was very swift. I thank you for it. As a reward for their hard work, I'd like to give each member of your crew a coin as a bonus

Moreo: Or best you just hand that bag of coins to me, and then I'll distribute them.

Cat: You really think I'm falling for that shit?

Moreo: Ah, you know how these men are! They'll go spend it on whores and gambling while they're in town. Best I hold onto it and give it to them when they're back home.

Cat: Bitch, does it look how I care how your men spend it?

Cat goes and personally pays every crew member herself.

Moreo: *grumble*grumble*

Cat: Now Rodrick, how do you propose we investigate this daggar while we are in town? I think it would be good to talk to Ser Aron Santagar, the Red Keep's Master-at-Arms. If this weapon is from King's Landing then surely he will know who owns it.

Rodrick: A fair idea, my lady. However remember that your face is recognized here in this city by many.

Cat nods, reflecting on that. She immediately thinks of Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish. Apparently her little brother Edmere gave Baelish that name but it's not that creative because his family came from the littlest "finger" of a set of fingers - a number of small peninsulas north of the Eyrie. Whatever.

Littlefinger had been raised at Riverrun as a ward of Hoster Tulley, Cat's father. Belish developed a huge crush on Cat and challenged the man who Cat was betrothed to - Brandon Stark.  Brandon Stark beat the shit out of Petyr though.  But then after that Brandon Stark got executed by the Mad King and Cat married his younger brother Ned instead.  She hadn't seen Littlefinger in years - but in those years he'd risen high in rank to become the Master of Coin at King's Landing. So anyway, that's who and what she's thinking about now because it will obviously be important later in the chapter.

Rodrick: It would be best if I investigate and ask questions instead of you. What with my removal of facial hair making me totally unrecognizable now.

Random Seaman: Hey! Who is that guy right there on this ship? He wasn't here before!

Rodrick: I'm Rodrick Cassel. You might not recognize me because I used to have facial hair.

Random Seaman: BY THE GODS! What a clever disguise! I didn't recognize you at all.

Rodrick: See, Cat?

Cat: Hrm, I suppose. Now Moreo... please tell us where a good place for us to stay would be. Somewhere discreet and where we won't be noticed. Somewhere that no self-respecting Lords or Ladies would usually be found. A real shithole, if you will.

Moreo: Uhm, I'm going to go ahead and say the Ramada.

And so they go to the Ramada.

Cat tries to get some sleep after the long ship ride, but is awoken after a few hours by a knock at the door.

Cat: Who dat?

Cat opens the door and sees someone from the King's Landing City Watch.

Cat: SHIT! I've been found already? That bitch Moreo sold me out.

The City Watch solider hands her a wax seal with a mocking bird on it.

Cat: Oh fuck, have I been selected for the Hunger Games? No... no, that's not right. This is the symbol of Baelish!

Cat is escorted by the Watch to a tower where she finds Petyr.

Littlefinger: Dayum girl, you still looking fine after all these years.

Cat: Ugh. How did you find me?

Littlefinger: Oh, I didn't find you. It was the Spider. He has eyes everywhere. Little birds that talk to him.

Cat: Oh, that creepy ass bald eunuch dude Varys?

Littlefinger: That's the one. And despite the fact that Varys did know you were in town...  he did not know why you were in town. Care to enlighten me?

Cat: Can a woman not yearn for her husband and want to see him?

Littlefinger: Pfffft, not if that husband is Ned Grumpypants Stark.  Please, whatever it is you need assistance with here in King's Landing, let me help you. I am clearly a very trustworthy character.

Cat: You're about as trustworthy as that ugly bald fuck Varys. He gives me the heebie-geebies. What a straight up disgusting freak. Just thinking about him makes me want to pu--

While she was speaking, Baelish started motioning for her to chill with the Varys shit.

Cat: Oh crap, he's right behind me, isn't he?

Varys: *ahem*

Cat: Oh heeeeeeey, whattup man? So pleased to meet you!

Varys: Well, now that I am here you might as well show me the dagger.

Cat: DAYUM, this boy truly is the spy master and knows all his shit.

Cat takes the dagger out. 

Littlefinger: Dafuq? You obviously know more than me, Varys. I thought we were on the same page here.

Varys: Well, when Lady Stark's Master-at-Arms goes around King's Landing asking people about this dagger, it becomes quite obvious why she came here.

Cat: Yes. This dagger was used by an assassin in an attempt to kill my son Bran. I want to know who it belongs to.

Littlefinger: Oh, I could have saved you the trouble.

Baelish picks it up and swings it around in his hand. He's very comfortable with it.  He then throws it across the room and it embeds itself into some wood. 

Littlefinger: The dagger belongs to me.

Cat: Oh shit, you better have some explaining before I slide your fucking throat.

Littlefinger: At least it USED to belong to me. I lost it in a bet though. To Tyrion Lannister.

AGoT 17: Bran III

Bran is falling through the sky to his death. In the distance, a crow approaches.

Bran: AGGHHHHHH!!!!

Crow: Corn!

Bran: What? Did you say something about porn?

Crow: No, corn damnit. CORN. Christ, why would you be interested in porn? Are you even old enough for your balls to drop?

Bran: Sorry, it's just with this "falling through the sky to my death" thing there is a little wind on my ears and also HOLY SHIT, I'M TALKING TO A CROW!

Crow: Yep.

Bran: This must be a dream or something. That would explain why I'm falling. Because I never fall in real life. Since I'm such a good climber. So no way am I going to hit the ground. I'll wake up first.

Crow: And what if you don't?

Bran: Oh shit. I don't know what then.

Crow: I'll tell you what then. Then you should probably learn to fly.

Bran: I don't know how to!

Crow: Have you ever tried?

By the way, Bran is still falling to his death. just in case you forgot.

Bran: Okay, I'm starting to wonder... are you even really a crow?

Crow: Are you even really falling?

Bran can't handle this deep metaphorical bullshit and starts crying. 

Crow: I said "FLY," not "CRY."

Bran: Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Mr. Crow. What with your wings and all.

Crow: Maybe you have wings too.

Bran: Pretty sure I would have noticed them by now.

Crow: Maybe they're, like, a DIFFERENT kind of wings.

Bran: Yeah, I can see why they cut this from the TV show. A little too trippy. Plus I'm talking to an animal like some Disney movie. This would have wrecked that whole "serious drama" thing right from Season 1.

Crow: Such bullshit. I disagree completely. This would have been awesome as hell.

Bran: What exactly is the point of all this again?

Crow: Dumbass, I'm teaching you to fly. Look! Just look down!

Bran looks. And as he looks, he sees all of Winterfell below him. Every inch, nook and cranny. But he can see beyond Winterfell. 

Bran: Oh shit! There's my mom! She's on some ship staring at a knife!  And there's my dad and sisters at a castle near the Trident arguing with the King!  Oh wait... now my visions are getting a little less literal and a little more metaphorical for some reason. I see shadows. A shadow with the face of a hound. And another shadow with a beautiful golden face. And a third shadow bigger than the other two... but, like, wearing armor and when he removes his visor there's nothing behind it but darkness. So... uhh... the Hound and Jaime. Those are easy. But this third one? Shit... uhm... I guess the Mountain, right? But only after he dies. Which hasn't happened yet. Wait. How do I know that? How do I know about the future? OH SHIT... can I have visions of the future too? This is fucking awesome!

Crow: I know. Cool, right?

Bran: Now I see Asshai, which I believe is some type of Japanese beer. No wait, it's something to do with dragons. And now I'm looking north to the Wall. I see Jon Snow! His skin is getting pale and all warmth leaves his body. OH SHIT! Did George R.R. write about Jon Snow dying this early? All the way up in Chapter 17 of A Game of Thrones? Holy shit!  Man, this dude had been assembling the puzzle pieces for this epic story for years. No way was he just making it up as he went along like those fuckers who did LOST.

Crow: Yeah, FUCK LOST!

Bran: Now I'm looking beyond the wall. And I'm going off the map here. It's so cold. Winter... I see the heart of winter.

Crow: Yes. Now you see why you must not die. Because... WINTER IS COMING!

Bran looks down once more, but all he sees are giant pointy columns of ice about to impale him. 

Bran: AGHH!

Crow: Fly or die, son. It's time for you to figure that shit out.

Bran: I can't fly! All I can do is fall!

Crow: Every flight begins with a fall.

Bran closes his eyes and clenches his teeth. He then spreads his arms and...

Bran: OH SHIT! I CAN FLY! WHEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I'm actually doing it!I belieeeeve I can flyyyyyy! I believe I can--

Crow: --Very good, Bran. Now here is my reward to you for such a good training session.

The crow starts to peck Bran's eyes out of his face, blinding him. 

Bran: AGH! WHAT THE FUCK? You're a shitty teacher!

Brunette Lady: Uhh, excuse me?

Bran: I said you're a shit-- oh.

Bran looks. It's a serving girl. He's back in Winterfell, laying in a bed.

The girl drops everything and runs out of the room. 

Brunette Lady: He's awake! He's awake!

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf is excited as fuck and jumps up on Bran's legs. 

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf: *bark* [Translation: Can you feel that? Can you feel that? I'm on your legs! I'm scratching the fuck out of them! Really clawing in deep! No? Nothing? I don't see any reaction from your face. So I'm guessing you're still paralyzed from the waist down, huh? Damn, that sucks kid. I tried though.]

Robb runs into the room. 

Robb: Bran, you're awake!

Bran looks at Robb and then looks to his direwolf and smiles. 

Bran: His name is "Summer."

Summer: *bark* [Translation: OH YAAAAAAAS! I'VE GOT A NAME!!!!]

AGoT 16: Eddard III

The scene... Castle Darry. After four days of searching for Arya, Ned's steward Vayon Poole comes up to Ned.

Vayon: Ser, they've found your girl, safe! She's in the castle audience chamber now.

Ned: Oh, thank the gods!

Ned is relieved. The entire crew heading down south to King's Landing had to stop at a nearbye castle and wait until Arya was found before they kept going. Needless to say, this pissed off Raymun Darry, the lord of Castle Darry. You see, he stuck with the Targaryens to the bitter end back in the days of the wars... and was thus no fan of all these Baratheons, Starks and Lannisters hanging around his castle.

Ned runs to the audience chamber and is surprised to find a large group staring at him and his daughter. It includes the King, Cersei, Renly... pretty much everyone. Except Jaime and the Hound. Arya runs up to Ned and they hug.

Arya: I'm so sorry, daddy! Sorry that Joffrey is a little shitface, that is.

Ned stands up angrily.

Ned: Why was my daughter not brought to me first rather than placed here?

King Robert shrugs. He barely has any idea what's going on because he's a pretty shitty, inept ruler.

Cersei: Watch your tongue, Stark!

Robert is now interested. Simply because he wants to disagree with his wife, who he hates.

Robert: No, you watch your tongue, wench.  Look Ned, we just wanted to get this thing over with quick and be on our way. This has taken up enough of my time.

Cersei: How can you side with Stark? His stupid girl and that boy attacked Joffrey! They snuck up on him and clubbed him while he wasn't paying attention and then had that wolf attack him!

Robert: Silence! Let's hear this girl's side.

Arya tells her side, which is the truth. I don't need to recount it here. Go read the last chapter. Renly begins to lose his shit.

Renly: Oh... HAHAHAHA! That little nine year old girl beat the shit out of Joffrey. Ah-HAHAHAHA! This is too good. This is amazing. I am going to remind you of that every day for the rest of your life, you pathetic little shit.

Robert: Okay, now let's hear Joffrey's side.

Joffrey lies.

Arya: Oh, you fucking little liar!

Robert: Well shit. He says one thing and she says another. How the fuck am I supposed to figure out who to believe?

Cersei: Uhh... you're supposed to side with your son.

Ned: My other daughter, Sansa. She was there and saw everything. Perhaps she can say what happened.

Sansa: Oh shit dad, why the hell did you have to bring me into this?

Robert: Well, speak up girl! What happened?

Sansa is torn. One the one hand, Arya is telling the truth and is her sister. On the other, she hates her sister and doesn't want Joffrey to be upset with her. 

Sansa: Uh, I cannot recall.

Robert: SHIT GIRL! You can't recall? Are you a fifteen year old girl or a Republican Attorney General?  Look. This is bullshit. Arya and Joffrey are both children acting chidish. How about this? I punish Joff for being a little dick and you punish Arya?

Ned: Deal.

Cersei: WHAT THE FUCK?!  And what about the wolf, huh? It attacked our son! I say 100 gold dragons to whoever gives me the skin of that direwolf.

Joffrey: What? 100 gold dragons for a stinking wolf? But I only offered 80 silver dragons for... uhh... never mind. I'll be quiet now.

Robert: Yeah, well we don't know where that other wolf is. We've been looking for it.

Cersei: There's a wolf right there.

She points at Lady. 

Robert: Meh. Close enough. Ser Illyn!

Sansa: WAIT! STOP!! What are you doing? Not Lady! Don't hurt Lady! Lady didn't do anything. She's a good wolf.

Ned: Stop this! You can't mean to seriously just kill the other wolf.

Robert: She'd be happier with a Tamagotchi anyway.

Ned: No... if it must be so... not Ser Illyn then. I won't let my daughter's direwolf be butchered! If it must be done, I will do it myself. If my wolf if sentenced to death, then I must also be the one to do the deed. We roll hard from Winterfell. *beats fist against chest*

Ned is handed Ice. 

Sansa: No. Please! Please!

After the deed is done (no need to talk more about killing wolves, right?), Ned orders Lady's body to be taken back to Winterfell and to make sure Cersei never gets it.  As he walks back from that, he runs into The Hound, who is coming back from the woods carrying a large, bloody bag. 

Hound: Hahaha, looks like we found Arya's pet hiding out in the woods!

The Hound throws the bag on the ground.

Ned: Oh great. I just killed Lady for no reason because it looks like you found and killed Nymeria.

Ned opens the bag and looks in. It's the butcher's boy, Mycah. He's essentially been cut in half. 

Ned: HOLY FUCKING SHIT! YOU SICK, MURDERING BASTARD! Also.. you specifically said "Arya's pet."

Hound: I was taking poetic license.

Ned: That was intentionally misleading.

AGoT 15: Sansa I

Pretty girl Sansa is feeding her direwolf, Lady, under the table as the retinue on the way to King's Landing stops by an inn at the Trident River.

Septa Mordane: SANSA! That's some gross shit that I'd expect from Arya, but not a proper girl like you. 

Sansa: What? No! Lady isn't like Nymeria. Lady is a nice and proper lady like me. Hence the name Lady. It's sort of a recursive.

Septa Mordane: Grrr... I swear, sometimes you and your sister are so alike and stubborn!

Sansa: Nuh-uh, I'm nothing like my sister!

Mordane: By the way, Queen Cersei has invited you and Arya to ride with her and Myrcella in the wheelhouse later today. You best find that sister of yours!

Sansa: OH BOY! If I get to spend time with Cersei that means I probably get to spend time close to Prince Joffery? And that's the BEST! He's the cutest and most handsome boy in the world. So tall and handsome. So noble and honest! Not at all the type to be a whiny, lying dickwad that would throw tantrums and have Lady killed out of petty vengeance. 

Lady: *whimper* [Translation: Wait... what?]

Mordane: You two better dress appropriately! 

Sansa: Oh, I already know what I'll be wearing. It's the prettiest dress. Don't count on Arya wearing anything nice though. 

Mordane: Hey! Where is she? How come she's not at breakfast? 

Sansa: Oh, I guess she's not hungry. If you'll excuse me... I'll go find her. 

Sansa knew that Arya probably already ate. Arya likes to wake up at the crack of dawn and steal food instead of have formal breakfast. Because that's how she rolls.

Sansa wanders along and eventually finds Arya sitting along the banks of the Trident, brushing Nymeria's filthy, muddy hair. 

Sansa: Arya... just what are you doing playing in that mucky water? Gross!

Arya: Shut up, stupid Sansa! I'm going to meet up with that butcher's boy, Mycah. We're going to go searching for rubies in the river.

Sansa: Rubies? What on earth are you talking about? Rubies don't come from rivers, dummy. They only come from the ruby crystal mines of Burma. 

Arya: No, you're the dummy! Didn't you pay attention to any of the stories growing up? This is the place where King Robert fought Jon Snow's dad Rhaegar Targaryen and killed him. He slammed his warhammer into Rhaegar's breastplate so hard that all the rubies fell out of it. And the rubies have never been found. But me and Mycah are going to find them. And go on to live long, prosperous lives as rich people with lots of rubies. Especially Mycah. He'll definitely live a very long time. 

Sansa: Yes, just like Lady. Now get out of there, clean yourself up, and put on some nice clothes. We have to go riding with the Queen.

Arya: No, I'm not doing that. It's lame. Her wheelhouse doesn't even have windows. How am I supposed to enjoy the scenery?  I'd rather go riding on my horse. 

Sansa: Looking out windows is dumb. Riding stinky horses is dumb. Riding along the river where Rhaegar fought Robert is dumb. Everything about you is dumb. Only an idiot would want to do that. You have to come with me so we can sit on pillows with the queen, play Dream Phone, and eat lemon cakes. 

Arya: Nah, I'm riding my horse. Bye.

Sansa: I HATE YOU! I'm going back. Me and Lady will have a nice time. 

Arya: Bitch please, you think the Lannisters will let Lady come with you?

Sansa hadn't thought about that. Because she's pretty dumb. 

Later... as she arrives back at the wheelhouse with Lady, she's surprised by a lot of commotion. Apparently some super fancy royal honor guard party has arrived.  There are three new people leading the honor guard - a distinguished looking older knight in white armor, a handsome young night wearing green armor, and some gaunt, scary-looking dude. 

Sansa is creeped out by the scary dude. She backs away slowly and runs into someone. 

Sansa: AGHHH!!!

That someone is someone even scarier - the Hound with his burnt-ass face. Or ass-face. You can put the hyphen there either way.

Sansa: I'm so scared! Hug me, Lady!

Joffrey: Not so fast, my dear. There is nothing to be afraid of - brave and noble Joffrey is here!

He skips onto the scene, twirling his cape around like a foppish dandy. 

Sansa: Ohmygawd, he's so perfect.

Joffrey: Don't be alarmed. I can protect you. Besides, there is nobody here you should fear. That scary-looking dude is just Illyn Payne - the royal executioner.

Sansa: Good point. Why would anyone be scared about a guy whose job it is to murder people?

White Knight: And I'm Barristan Selmy. You've probably heard about me. I'm kind of a big deal. 

Green Knight: And just try to guess who I am! 

Sansa: Uhm... well... you're wearing armor with a bunch of stags on it, meaning you're a Baratheon. And since you're not old fatass Robert I'm going to guess that you're Renly. 

Renly: YEP! Pleased to meet you. 

Sansa: Also, you're wearing a name tag that says "Renly." I feel so embarrassed by being scared now. And I'd like to apologize to you, Ser Illyn Payne. I didn't mean to offend you. 

Illyn: ... 

Sansa: Did you hear me? I said I'm very sorry. I know I came off like a total diva.

Illyn: ...

Illyn just turns and walks away. 

Sansa: Well FINE THEN. Don't accept my apology. Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit.

Joffrey: Oh, I forgot to mention. Illyn doesn't talk. His tongue was cut out by Mad King Aerys.

Sansa: Great, noooooow you tell me. After I embarrass myself again.

Just then Cersei arrives. Or maybe she was already there. Whatever. She didn't really have any lines before. Now she does. 

Cersei: I'm sorry little one. I have important business to discuss with my counselors now. I can't go wagon riding with you like I wanted to. 

Sansa: Oh no!

Cersei: Instead, you'll probably just have to hang out with Joffrey all day. 

Sansa: OH YES!!!!

Joffrey puts his arm around Sansa, all smooth-like. 

Joffrey: Come on baby, let's go riding horses around the river where Rhaegar fought Robert. 

Sansa: Oh, I'd love to do that! It sounds like so much fun and not something that I would have just called dumb a few minutes ago. 

Joffrey: But first... we better both leave our dogs behind and get some privacy. 

Sansa: Oh, you have a dog too?!

Joffrey: God, you really are stupid. 

He points at the Hound. 

Sansa: Oh. Right. But will you be safe without him? 

Joffrey: Oh please! I can protect myself because I'm so manly. With this... Lion's Tooth!

He pulls out a dainty sword and inelegantly swings it around like an amateur.

Sansa: Wait... Lion's Tooth? But aren't you a BARATHEON rather than a Lannister? Why not something about Stags?

Joffrey: Shhh! Let's go. 

They go riding together along the river. Not surprisingly, they hear a commotion and see two other people. Geez, based on context I wonder who ever they could be.

Joffrey: Look, a boy fighting a girl!

Sansa: UGH. ARYA!!!!

Arya and Mycah, the butcher's boy, are play fighting with sticks in a clearing near the river.

Joffrey: So, think you can fight a little girl, huh? Why don't you try fighting me instead, coward!

He pulls out his very real sword and challenges the little boy who only has a stick. 

Mycah: Uhm... We were only play fighting. And she asked me to. She sort of made me.

Joffrey: Lying coward! Try picking on someone your own size instead of beating up on those smaller and less skilled than you!

Joffrey stabs at the boy and slices him on the cheek. 

Mycah: Oh wow - is anyone else picking up on the fact that he's telling me to fight someone my own size and not to pick on less skilled people when it is in fact he, Joffrey, that is picking on me, Mycah, who is actually smaller than him and less skilled than him and with an inferior weapon to him?  And earlier when Robb, who was his size, challenged him to a fight he was a total coward and ran away from it?

Sansa: No. I am not picking up on that. Joffrey is a wonderful, pleasant and noble person.

Arya: Don't hurt Mycah, you little shit!!!!

Arya, a nine year old girl (I'll remind you), runs at Joffrey and beats the living shit out of him with her stick. Eventually he is able to counter and knock the stick from Arya's hand.  But Joffrey, being a punk-ass mofo, glances towards his horse to flee. Arya throws a rock at the horse instead, and it runs away. There is no escape for Prince Shitty now!

Sansa: STOP FIGHTING! STOP! YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING!

Knowing that he can't run like a punk now, Joffrey starts to make his way towards Arya. And just as he does so...

Nymeria: *GROWL* [Translation: Oh yeah, I'm about to learn what a prince tastes like!]

Nyrmeria jumps on Joff and begins to chew on his sword-swinging arm.

Joffrey: AGH!!!!

Nymeria: *chew* [Translation: Yep, just as I thought, the answer is "delicious."] 

Joff, of course, drops Lion's Tooth. Arya picks it up and throws it in the river like some bizzaro, reverse Lady-of-the-Lake. 

Arya: Yeah, FUCK your sword, you little shit.

Arya and Nymeria run off like straight-up stone cold thugs who don't even care. Sansa runs to aid her beloved Joffrey. 

Sansa: Oh, my poor prince! What did my terrible sister do to you? Please, let me help you.

Joffrey: GET OFF ME! DON'T TOUCH ME!

He continues to cry light a little punk. I wold have said "like a little bitch," but that would be insulting to Nymeria since Nymeria is a female dog and she's (as previously noted) a straight-up stone cold thug.

AGoT 14: Catelyn III

Eight days after Ned has left Winterfell, Cat has officially lost her damn mind.  She's been sitting with Bran the whole time, waiting for him to magically get better. But that ain't happening. She won't leave the room or tend to any of the matters of the castle.

Maester Luwin: M'am, I need you to review these figures from the banquet. It was very expensive. I think to make up for the costs of King Robert's visit we're going to have to--

Cat: --The cost? THE COST? Oh, I know very well what "the cost" of Robert's visit was. THIS. RIGHT HERE.

She points at Bran.

Luwin: Yikes.

Cat: Let the steward worry about crap like that!

Luwin: Vayon Poole left with Lord Stark, m'lady. There are a number of other empty positions as well that need to be filled.

Cat: I can't deal with that shit right now! My son is dying and you want me to find a new steward and review numbers? Fuck that! I swear, I will pull on your stupid Maester chain and strangle you if you--

Robb: --Maester Luwin, I will look after those figures for you. And whatever else you need from me. You know, stuff like running the entire castle while my crazy ass mom has her psychotic breakdown. This sounds like the type of stuff that should be entrusted to a 14 year old boy.

Luwin: Very well, ser.

Luwin leaves and Robb and his mom are there together with Bran. 

Robb: What the hell, mom? You're going to have to leave some time. You didn't even say bye to dad.

Cat: Whatever. I saw him depart through the window. Good enough. I can't leave. Bran needs me. If he dies while I'm gone... why... why... I don't know what I'd do.

Robb: You heard the masters, mom. He won't die. And your other children need you too, mom. Rickon thinks everyone has abandoned him and is crying like a bitch. And I... well... I need you too!

Sitcom Audience: Awwwwwwwww!!!!

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf Outside the Window: *HOWL* [Translation: Get better soon, Bran! XOXO. You still need to name me].

The other wolves howl too. 

Cat: Ugh. Someone please shut those fucking things up.

Robb: I think they're good for Bran, mom. It's like the puppers are watching over him. Helping him.

Then a bunch of dogs start barking too. 

Robb: That is an unusual amount of barking though now. Odd.

He looks out the window. The library tower is on fire.

Robb: OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT! Someone get a bucket of water! Septon Chayle is going to be so pissed!

Robb runs out to go attend to the fire. He closes the door behind him. From behind the door emerges a filthy vagrant with an expensive knife. 

Vagrant: Damnit, you weren't supposed to be here, lady! Everyone was supposed to go put out that fire.

Cat: Get away! GET AWAY!

He moves closer with the knife. 

Vagrant: Killing him will be a mercy. Stand aside or I'll kill you too!

Cat starts to scream, but the vagrant brings the knife up to her throat. She bites his hand and the two get into a tussle.

Vagrant: AGHH!!! Damnit!

He pulls some of her hair out while she grabs at the knife, pushing it away but slicing her fingers on the blade.  Just as all seems lost and she's about to get a good knifin'... 

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf: *Woof* [Not so fast, asshole!]

The direwolf has snuck through the castle and up to Bran's room. He leaps up and attacks the vagrant. 

Vagrant: AGH SHIT! AGH SHIT! NO! HE'S EATING MY NECK! OH GOD! HE'S TEARING OUT MY VOCAL CORDS! OH GOD! I'M DYING! I'M DYING!

Blood squirts all over the place, splattering all over Cat's face. She's kind of into it and tastes it on her lips. 

Cat: Odd how he was still talking.

Vagrant: I WASN'T. YOU WERE JUST IMAGINING IT. YOU'RE HAVING A PSYCHOTIC FIT. 

The Vagrant lay on the floor dead. The direwolf jumps up in the bed and lay next to Bran. 

Cat: Uhh... good boy? I guess you're allowed here now, whenever you want.

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf: *sniff* [You're damn right.]

Cat is taken back to her bedchamber after all the excitement. Old Nan gives her a bath and Luwin treats her wounds. He also gives her some milk of the poppy. Which is a fancy Westerosi way of saying that she's doing opium.  

She falls asleep for four days.  When she wakes up...

Robb: Welcome back mom!

Cat: Oh wow, that was some strong shit. I had this terrible dream that Bran was in a coma and my husband left with our daughters.

Robb: Nope, that was real.

Cat: Fuck. Anyway, I'm so ashamed of how I acted. You were right, Robb. I should have been there for you and Rickon. Hey wait! I see you're wearing armor and a sword now. And you're accompanied by Theon, Ser Rodrick Cassel, Luwin, and Hallis Mollen.

Robb: Yeah, Hallis is the new captain of the guard. I stepped up and took control while you were asleep. Shit is going smooth now.

Cat: I'm so proud of you, son.

Robb: Thanks. And while you were asleep we launched an investigation into that vagabond who tried to kill you.

Cat: Me? No way. He was after Bran.

Robb: Bran?! Who would want to kill Bran?

Cat: You're a lord now. You have to figure out those questions yourself.

Robb: No kidding. It's a good thing I watched dad when he did all that CSI shit. Anyway... we found the vagabond's hiding place.  In was in the stables. He had ninety silver stags hidden there. We asked some questions. People had seen him around, but nobody knew who he was.

Cat: Dayum... ninety silver stags? For Bran?  I might have killed him myself for that. Sorry. No. I take that back. Gallows humor. The only way to survive up here.

Robb: My theory is that someone probably wanted to kill Bran... TO SILENCE HIM FOR SOMETHING HE SAW!

DUNN DUNN DUNNNNNNNN!

Cat: Pretty good theory, son. You're catching on to this Inspector Stark thing really quick.

Robb: But by who? Obviously someone rich! Just look at this knife! Fine Valyrian steel blade with a dragonbone handle.

Cat looks around suspiciously. 

Cat: The men in this room... do you trust them all?

Theon: What the hell? We're right here!

Rodrick: We've known you forever!

Hallis: Honestly, I can't even remember who I am or if you should trust me.

Luwin: I've already been read-in to this intel, so whatever. 

Robb: They're as much Starks as we are, mother. I'd trust them with my life. Especially Theon. A very trustworthy one, him. 

She leans in and whispers. 

Cat: Ned and I received a letter. From my sister. It accused the Lannisters of secretly murdering her husband, Jon Arryn.

Everyone gasps.

Robb: Hey, the Lannisters are rich!

Cat: That's right. And do you know who DIDN'T go on the hunting trip that day with King Robert and was hence back here at the castle? The Kingslayer, Jamie Lannister!

Robb: Oh wow, that's right. I remember now. You know now that I think about it, Cersei didn't go out either.

Cat: We all know Bran never falls. He's too good at climbing! I think he was pushed by Jamie!

Robb: Right, right. And the thing he saw that the Lannisters wanted to cover up could have been Jamie and Cersei having sex or something.

Everyone in the room looks at Robb with shock and disgust. 

Theon: Eww.

Rodrick: Too far, Robb. Too far.

Hallis: Yeah man, gross.

Luwin: Very unlikely. 

Cat: Uhm, Robb. Your CSI'ing is getting pretty good... but you've got a long way to go before you're as good as your father.  But right now all we have is conjecture and theories. We need proof. And we also need Ned to hear this. We need to send someone down to King's Landing to let him know.

Robb: Great! I think we'll send--

Cat: --Me, it will be me.

Robb: Oh.

Cat: And I bet I can beat him there! I'll take a ship rather than ride down the Kingsroad!

Robb: Oh. Good idea. Why the hell doesn't everyone else just do that?

They look around at each other and shrug. 

Luwin: Uh... I guess maybe the party is too big for a ship?

Robb: It's the King! He has a whole fleet. They could take multiple ships.

Everyone stands around just confused and thinking really hard about why Robert, Ned and crew are taking a multi-week journey by land when there is a much faster and sensible sea option.

AGoT 13: Tyrion II

Tyrion is riding with Jon Snow to the Wall. It is taking FOREVER. 

Tyrion: This is longer than watching Contact on basic cable with all the commercial breaks.

There are some cats other than Jon Snow too. At first its also Jon's uncle Benjen and Tyrion's two Lannister guards - Morrec and Jyck. But then on the third day of the travel north, they meet up with some hunchbacked dude named Yoren who has tattered clothes and is a total grumpy pants. Yoren is a recruiter for the Night's Watch has with him two peasant boys who are "recruits." And by that Tyrion realizes they are criminals who were probably sentenced to either death or to join the Watch.

Tyrion: Wait... THIRD DAY? Wasn't I just heading to check out Castle Black because it was a short distance from Winterfell? How far away is this thing?

One week into the ride, they find themselves further into the Wolfswood.  Why is it named that? Because there are wolves all around, howling at night. Jon's direwolf, Ghost, follows as well. But Ghost is too well behaved to howl back. He just perks up and looks super interested by all this wolf chit-chat. I'm not going to translate that. It's pretty graphic and politically incorrect. You know, wolf stuff.

Tyrion: ONE WEEK?! What the hell? This is miserable! My balls hurt so bad from riding this horse for a week. This is a rough ride. I'm so cold.  I brought my warmest clothes but they're not warm enough. I kinda feel bad for Jon too. A boy who didn't know what he was getting into. But this uncle of his, what an ass! I know he hates Lannisters just like Ned and is doing everything he can to make my life miserable.

Benjen: Shut your mouth, Dwarfy. You whining about being cold? You want my bearskin cloak or something?

Tyrion: Uh, yeah. That would be sweet.

Benjen: Uhm, no. That was one of those polite offers that you're supposed to refuse.

Tyrion: Nope, I'm taking it.

He takes it. 

Benjen: Damn it.

By the eighteenth night of their journey they--

Tyrion: EIGHTEENTH?! REALLY?! How large is the north? This is crazy! I'm looking at this map here. It doesn't look that far from Winterfell.

Now there are no settlements at all. There is scarce life too. No taverns, inns or houses to stop at for the night. Not even a Super 8. So the travelers must make camp. Being too small to actually help, Tyrion wanders a little bit away with a book about dragons that he borrowed from the Winterfell library. 

Tyrion: Septon Chayle says I'm getting a huge fine if I don't return this by the due date. No way am I going to be back on time. Still, I suppose I'll need to pay up. After all, a Lannister always p--

Jon: --Hey Tyrion, what you doing out here?

Tyrion: Just reading about dragons.

Jon: Cool. So you like dragons or something?

Tyrion: Oh yes, I've liked them since I was a child. I fantasized about having a pet dragon as a child. I preferred them to my actual family. The first time I went to King's Landing I wanted to see those famous dragon skulls left over from the Targaryens. King Robert hid them all in the dungeons under the Red Keep. I had a torch and saw them in the dark. Although the torch thing might have been a bad idea since I also saw all these drums of green liquid that said "Danger! Explosive! Do Not Store Under Sept of Baelor." Anyway, back to the dragon skulls thing. Some of them were huge. Three of them the largest - the skulls of the three Dragons that Aegon I Targaryen came over with in his conquest to become the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the first to sit on the Iron Throne. Why, I remember the stories about one of my ancestors, King Loren I, back when the Seven Kingdoms were actually seven kingdoms with seven kings. He tried to fight Aegon the Conqueror.  But with those three dragons he--

Jon: --I asked if you liked dragons. I didn't ask for your entire life story and an extensive backstory about the conquest of Westeros.

Tyrion: Yeah, I like dragons.

Jon: And books too, it looks like.

Tyrion: A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone. HAHA! Yes! More of that profound shit I was talking about earlier, remember? These deep, meaningful, reflective statements just come out of me. Probably from my childhood spent reading rather than interacting with my awful dad or sister.

Jon: So it sounds like you hate your family. That's rough.

Tyrion: Come now Jon, surely you must resent your family too. You're a bastard. I'm sure they treat you like crap.

Jon: Nuh-uh.

Tyrion: What? Your saying your step mom doesn't hate you? Robb doesn't pick on you? Your father isn't sending you off to the Wall since you have no future anywhere else?

Jon: SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! The Night's Watch is a noble calling! It's honorable AF.

Tyrion: Oh yeah, like these two recruits Yoren found here? Debtors, poachers, rapers, thieves, and bastards like you. Not to mention rustlers, cut throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers... and Methodists.

Jon: STOP! STOP!

Jon breaks into tears. Tyrion then starts to feel like a real dick. He reaches out to console Jon.  But Ghost is not a fan of that. 

Ghost: *growl* [Translation: Get the FUCK away from my master!]

Ghost jumps on Tyrion and knocks him to the ground, standing on him and about to attack. 

Tyrion: AGH! GET HIM OFF! GET HIM OFF!

Jon: Oh, I'm sorry. Polite people say "please."

Tyrion: GET HIM OFF, PLEASE!

Jon: Okay, come on boy!

Ghost lets him go and Jon helps pick him up. 

Tyrion: What the hell?! Why did that horse dog attack me?

Jon: Dunno. He probably thought you were a grumkin.

The two stare at each other, silently. For like a whole minute. Finally, Tyrion breaks into uproarious laughter.

Tyrion: Oh shit, Jon. *wipes tear from eye*  That was a good one.

Jon: Hey! Grumpkins and Snarks... band name?

Tyrion nods approvingly. 

Jon: But seriously, is it true what you said about the Night's Watch?  That it's full of criminals and rapists? It's not really a place with a bunch of honorable knights?

Tyrion: Unfortunately not. Your Uncle Benjen is the exception.

Jon: *sigh* Damn.

Tyrion: Well, at least you're accepting it like a man rather than denying the truth. I think you'll be okay, kid. Now let's get shitfaced.

They go back to camp and drink a bunch of wine and eat some squirrel stew. Tyrion then offers Yoren some culinary advice about the level of pepper that should be the the stew. I just figured that would be important to mention as well.

AGoT 12: Eddard II

Ned is spending his last night in Winterfell when he's awoken and told that the King is waiting for him... and that it's time to ride off to King's Landing. 

Eddard: *grumble*

He heads outside to meet the King, who is already on his horse. His poor, poor horse. 

Robert: Haha, Ned! Let us talk of matters!

Eddard: Okay.

Robert: ...

Eddard: ...

Robert: Not here, fool! Privately!

Eddard: Oh. Well just come back here and we can--

Robert: No! There are to many eyes watching and ears listening here. Let us be on our way.

Dead tired, Ned looks back at Winterfell and shrugs. His wife is too busy sitting and staring at Bran's comatose body to even say goodbye. This might as well be his adios. He mounts his horse and gets going. 

Robert: Let's go! Last one to King's Landing is a rotten egg!

The King takes off at a blazing fast speed. Well, as fast as the horse can go with King Cake-eater on it. Ned takes the reigns of his horse and speeds it up as well, leaving all of the rest of the party behind. 

Robert soon takes his horse off of the main road, the King's Road, and somewhat deep into the countryside. The main party with Cersei's wagon and the Stark daughters is probably an hour behind them now.

Robert: Haha! This is great! You and me, riding together through the lands. Just like the good old days!  Let's run off together to be vagabond knights that go around bedding every wench we see.

Eddard: I'm afraid we're not the men we used to be, Robert. My back is all jacked up. And I've got a rolled ankle. Some halitosis. Ingrown fingernails. Erectile dysfunction sometimes, but not always.

Robert: Oh Ned, you were NEVER the man you used to be. Why, I don't remember you ever going out wenching with me once. Try to be cooler. In fact, how about from now on we just say your name is only "Ned" rather than going with that "Eddard" shit. That's a dork name for losers that don't sleep with hot floozies.

Eddard Ned: It would be dishonorable to cheat on my wife.

Robert: Oh, says you! That's not what you were saying when you were with that woman who fathered your bastard! What was her name?

Ned: Uhm. Right. Because she's a person that exists for real and isn't made up. Because she's the mother of Jon Snow. Ahhh... let's go with "Wylla." Yes. Wylla.

Robert: How come you never want to talk about her? Or describe her in specific detail to me? Come on!

Ned: Say, didn't you want to ride out so that we could speak together in private about something?

Robert: Oh yes. Right, of course! Here away from everyone else here by these old hills we can now discuss important, but sensitive, matters.

Ned: Those aren't hills. This is the Barrowlands. These are the ancient graves of the First Men.

Robert: Wow, the north never ceases to be creepy as fuck.

Ned: Come on, spill the beans.

Robert: A message came to me, Ned. A secret message from my spymaster Varys. Here!

Robert pulls out a scroll and hands it to Ned. 

Ned: Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit! Please don't be about Lysa Arryn! Please don't be about Lysa Arryn!

Ned reads it, but instead the message is about the marriage of Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo. 

Ned: Oh thank the Old Gods! What a relief.  But why do I give a shit about this? Those people are a continent away.

Robert: Tell me, are you familiar with the name Jorah Mormont?

Ned: Obviously. The Mormonts are pledged to the House Stark. I caught Jorah kidnapping some poachers and selling them to Tyroshi slavers. Everyone knows that slavery is illegal here in the Seven Kingdoms. And just as I was about to give Jorah Mormont the justice he deserved via my sword Ice, that little shit fled the country to Essos. And everyone knows they don't have an extradition treaty with us.

Robert: Well, it seems like he's trying to get back into good graces over here. He is the source of information about this Targaryen girl and is acting as our spy.

Ned: Whatever, the girl is of no concern to us.

Robert: NO CONCERN?! Bitch, she's a Targaryen. We need to send an assassin over there now to kill that little ho.

Ned: Come on now Robert, surely you're above killing little girls. She's an innocent.

Robert: Little girl? Innocent? How long will she be so? No, we must kill her now! All Targaryens are evil! They must be all killed. What did the Mad King do to your father? What did he do to your brother? How many times did Rhaegar Targaryen rape your sister Lyanna?

Ned: Zero.

Robert: Huh? What was that?

Ned: Oh, nothing. Probably just the spooky wind here around these ancient dead bodies.

Ned starts internally fuming over the last time they had one of these fights. Tywin Lannister showed up to the Iron throne carrying the dead bodies of Rhaegar's wife Elia and their two children, Aegon and Rhaenys. They were brutally murdered by some dude called The Mountain. I'm sure we'll hear about that cat later.  Robert was totally okay with those innocents being murdered. Ned was not. It took forever for them to reconcile over that. Not until his sister, Lyanna was killed. 

Lyanna: Promise me, Ned! Promise me!

Robert: Are you flash backing again? 

Ned: Huh? What? Oh yeah. Maybe a little. The point is that you and I are no Tywin Lannister. We do not kill innocents. 

Robert: Watch me. That Drogo has 100,000 men in his horde. I must not allow them to invade. 

Ned: Dothraki don't cross the sea. Everybody knows that. They don't even have ships. Besides, even if they did come I'm sure we could fight them back. Especially if you have appointed a Warden of the East. Hahaha! See how I gracefully changed the conversation there to a new topic?

Robert: Oh, not this insolence about the Warden of the East again! I will not give it to that Arryn boy. He's too young. We need a true leader to be ready for any Dothraki invasion.

Ned: Okay then... what about your brother Stannis? 

Robert groans at the thought of his brother. 

Ned: Seriously? You two are bros. Literally. 

Robert: The matter is closed. The title is already offered to another. 

Ned: Whatever, fine. So long as it's not Jamie Lan--

Robert: --I'm offering it to Jaime Lannister.

Ned: WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK, MAN? The KINGSLAYER?! He is already heir to the title of Warden of the West. You can't let those untrustworthy Lannisters control both the East and the West! 

Robert: Why not? What reason have I to not trust the Lannisters? Jaime killed the Mad King. The Lannister army supported me. I married Cersei.

Ned: Seriously though dude, are you really that gullible? Look, I've got to come clean with you, man. I've been holding this in for a lot of years... but now I need to tell you... it's absolute proof that you can't trust the Lannisters at all. Especially Jaime. You're sitting down, right? Because I want to make sure you're ready for this flashback. Because it's going to be a doozy. This is some heavy stuff I'm about to drop here. Some real sick, evil shit. 

Robert: Okay, tell me. 

Several Years Ago... 

Jamie Lannister is a 17-year old member of the King's Guard. His sole job... protecting Mad King Aerys, who (as the name implies) has gone totally mad. He's ordering the city be burned down and everyone be executed.  The Lannister army marches into town. 

Mad King: Oh yeah, the Lannisters are here to protect me from all these rebels! Sweet. 

Jaime: Uhhh... about that... 

Jaime takes his sword out and kills the Mad King.

Ned then shows up to the city. Across the town the Targaryen banners and flags have been taken down, and replaced with Lannister flags.

Ned: Dafuq? 

Ned walks into the throne room and finds Jaime sitting on the Iron Throne... a super uncomfortable chair made up of hundreds and hundreds of pointy ass swords. He's also wearing a kickass crown with lions on it and stuff. Custom made. Great detailing. 

Ned: Dude! Get off that throne! 

Jaime: Oh, my bad. I'm a teenager and am pretty irresponsible. I was just keeping it warm for when the King shows up. Not that King, obviously. 

He points at King Aerys on the floor, who is dead.  He laughs a little. 

Jaime then gets off the throne.  

Ned: Well, there you go!  All the backstory you'll ever need to know about Lannister villainy! 

Robert: So your argument that the Lannisters can't be trusted is based solely on the fact that the Lannisters put their flags up around the city and that a teenage Jaime Lannister sat on the throne for a few minutes?

Ned: Clearly they were plotting to claim the throne for themselves! Who even makes a custom crown like that? 

Robert bursts into laughter about how weak sauce Ned's story was.  He begins to wipe tears from his eyes. 

Robert: Oh man, Ned. I miss having you and your tight-ass around. You're such a fucking nerd! I can't believe that's the type of shit that offends your honor.  A dude sits on a chair? 

Ned: He had no right to sit on that chair!

Robert: You really need to live a little, man. Stop being tied up by all this crap like honor and duty. I swear, it will be the death of you.

Ned grumbles under his breath as the two begin to ride back to the King's Road.