ACoK 24: Theon II

Theon: Ah, look at my new awesome Longship that my daddy has given me to attack the very people who raised me over the last ten years in Westeros. I mean it’s not as good as some other ships, but it’s pretty sweet and I’ll be able to command 100 men!

Sexy Lady: Oh hey there, Theon.

Theon: Dayum girl, you fine. Mind if I slip my little Theon up in your cooch?

Sexy Lady: Wow, we literally just met and you’re talking about intercourse. That is pretty messed up. You have no idea who I am.

Theon: Then tell me who you are.

Esgred: My name is "Esgred." I’m the daughter of Ambrode and wife to Sigrin the shipwright.

Theon: I feel like I’ve known you my whole life though. For some reason you seem so familiar. Like… did I know you as a kid or something?

Esgred: No comment.

Theon: Gurl, I have a raging hard on right now. Just feel this.

She does. 

Esgred: Yep. That’s pretty hard. But I’m new with child, so I couldn’t possibly help you out with that. You know, it’s all still sore down there.

Theon: Even better that way! That means I can’t get you with child. Plus I get to drink your mother’s milk, which has always been a fetish of mine. Tell me, have you ever been with a Prince before? One day when you’re old and wrinkled, you can tell your grandchildren that you had sex with King Theon!

Esgred: That is a really strange scenario you’re positing there, Theon. How many Grandmothers do you know who go around bragging about their sex lives to their grandkids?

Theon: You’re wasted on that loser shipwright! You should be with me instead.

Esgred: Hey now, my husband just built your ship. That’s no way to repay him.

Theon: Oh, I’ll name my ship after you to repay him. I’ll call her “Sea Bitch.”

Esgred: That escalated quickly.

Theon: Now come on board so we can bless this ship with the milk of our loins.

Esgred: Uhhh… I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to do that with a bottle of champagne. Not jism.

Theon: Come on now. You can’t leave me hanging. You want me to captain this ship all blue-balled?

Esgred then grabs his junk again. She even starts unlacing his pants.

Esgred: How are you even going to steer the ship. With this?

Theon: So I’m getting mixed signals here. You keep saying no sex, but you also keep grabbing my junk. How about you come back to my place tonight? And by “my place” I mean my dad’s house. But my dad is the king, so I mean back to Pyke Castle. Have you ever met King Balon Greyjoy before?

Esgred: No comment.  Anyway, I can’t come back to the castle with you. I don’t have a horse to get there.

Theon: Oh, we can just ride my horse together then. You can be in the front and I’ll be in the back, so the entire ride I can grind my junk into your ayass and reach around to grab your boobs.

Esgred: Oh, you’re such a romantic!

And so they go to grab Theon’s horse, which is parked in town. Is “parked” the proper word you use for when you leave a horse somewhere? I don’t know. 

As they enter town, everyone starts bowing towards Theon and Esgred. 

Theon: FINALLY! People recognize me and threat me with the respect that I deserve.

Esgred: Yeah. Sure. They’re bowing to you. Let’s go with that.

They approach Theon’s new squire, Wex. Fortunately and coincidentally for reasons that are completely convenient for this chapter, Wex is a mute and is totally unable to talk. When he sees Theon and Esgred together, with Theon groping her, his eyes bug out. But he can’t say anything. You know, because it’s convenient for him not to be able to. 

And so Theon and Esgred ride to Pyke, with Theon grinding his junk into her ayass and reaching around to grab her boobs the entire time (as promised). 

Esgred: So, you think your father will welcome me to the castle?

Theon: Pfft. He hardly welcomed me and I’m his heir.

Esgred: Really? You’ve been gone a while. Are you sure you’re still his heir? I hear the king has other family. A daughter. Brothers.

Theon: Please. My sister, Asha? She’s some dumb, pimpled girl with no rack that dresses like a boy. She’ll probably get married off to some lordling to make an alliance, if there is any lord desperate enough to take someone as ugly as her. And my uncles? Well, they suck. Aeron only cares about the Drowned God. Euron has been half-way around the world for years, and nobody knows if he’s even still alive. And Victarion… well… he’s such an unimportant character that he was written out of the TV show.

Esgred: Cool, thanks for that rather convenient description of your sister. That’s almost as convenient, for plot purposes, as Wex being unable to talk.

They eventually get to the castle.

Stableboy: Oh, hi Asha.

Esgred: Hey there!

Theon: Wait… what?! Why did this stableboy just call you “Asha”? That’s my sister’s name.

Esgred: Oh right. I forgot to tell you, I’m Asha.

Theon: WHAT?!

Asha: Yeah. I’m your sister.

Theon: You didn’t forget to tell me. YOU SAID YOU WERE ESGRED, THE SHIPWRIGHT’S WIFE!

Asha: That was a lie. Protip: You’ve been gone for 10 years. Just because your little sister was a flat-chested tomboy a decade ago doesn’t mean she still is. That’s sort of how time works.

Theon: WHY THE HELL DID YOU KEEP GRABBING MY JUNK AND UNLACING MY BREECHES?

Asha: Seemed like it would be part of a hilarious practical joke at the time. I can see now, with hindsight being 20/20, how it could have been quite gross on my part. But I still stand by my decision. No regrets.

Wex the squire bursts into the closest thing to “laughter” that a mute person can burst into. He knew the whole time but couldn’t say anything. Because he was mute. GET IT? That’s the specific reason GRRM conveniently gave Theon a mute squire. For this moment. In every future chapter with him, just remember the only reason that character can't talk is so that GRRM could make this one incest joke.

Theon: Well, I’m going to go wash my entire body in bleach now and throw up a thousand times.

Theon runs off to do that. 

Hours later, it’s time for the dinner feast, hosted by his dad. Theon goes to the dais to take his seat. 

Lord Balon: You’re late, son.

Theon: Yeah, I had to vomit everything I’ve ever eaten out of my body and try to erase the last few hours from my mind.

Theon looks at the chairs. He thinks he should be sitting next to his father, but that seat is taken by Asha. 

Theon: Uhm… you’re in my spot.

Asha: Really? I thought your spot was in Winterfell!

Lord Harlaw: OHH! Good burn there, Asha.

Theon angrily takes the seat next to Asha, two away from his father.

Server: Oh, hey there everybody. I’m just here to take your drink orders. So, how many of you want beer and how many of you want wine?

Asha: Oh, Theon here doesn’t want any alcohol. I think all he wants to drink tonight is my “mother’s milk.”  Hahaha…. HEY EVERYBODY! I have an awesome story to tell you about Theon trying to have sex with me, his own sister.

Theon: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! You tricked me! Everything you told me was a lie.

Asha: No, not everything. I am married. But not to any shipwright.

Asha grabs a giant axe and smashes it into Theon’s cup. Wine explodes all over Theon’s face.

Asha: This is my husband.

Theon: So you married an axe?

Asha: Yes.

Theon: Is this like an actual marriage or more like a civil union type of thing? I’m not up to speed on the inanimate object-marrying laws of the Iron Isles. But I can see what Republicans were talking about now with the whole "Gay Marriage is a Slippery Slope" thing.

Asha: It’s really meant more as a metaphor for my warrior prowess and how I, as a female, am a stronger and more fierce warrior than you and therefore am more deserving to be heir of Pyke when father dies.

Balon: WHOA, I’m right here. Why you gotta talk about me dying like that? Anyway. Party is over. Everyone who is up on the dais needs to come back to my solar. We have some war discussion to talk about.

Theon: What? I just got here and haven’t eaten yet.

Balon: Like I said, you were LATE.

And so they go back to Lord Balon’s damp, drafty solar. 

Balon: Okay bitches, here is the plan. Theon, you will command 8 ships that will attack the Stony Shore and do some raiding work. Aeron and Dagmer will assist you. And by “assist you,” I mean they will be the real leaders of the raids because I don’t actually trust you or put any faith into your abilities.  Asha, I will give you a much larger force of 30 ships and you will do the much more important task of attacking Deepwood Motte.

Asha: Sweet. I’ve always wanted a castle.

Theon: NO FAIR! I’ve actually been to Deepwoode Motte before. I know all about it! I should be the one who gets to attack it.

Balon: Shut up, Theon. And lastly, Victorion… you will lead the main thrust of my forces and attack Moat Cailin. Once we win that, Robb Stark will be trapped in the south and not able to return home.

Theon: But I--

Balon: --SHUT UP, THEON.

Theon leaves the meeting, despondent. He walks out of the solar via the precarious rope bridge that connects various parts of Pyke. As he stands on the bridge, he falls to his knees. Asha shows up and helps him to his feet.

Theon: Ugh. You? I liked you better when you were Esgred.

Asha: Hahaha, good one. So you still wanna fuck or what?

Theon: WHAT THE HELL?!

ACoK 23: Jon III

The Nights Watch rides through the lands beyond the wall. They are miserable after six days of unending cold rain. Jon Snow is miserable. Lord Commander Mormont is miserable. Even Mormont’s raven is miserable. 

Raven: Corn……..ucopia of umbrellas. That’s what I wish I had right now. *squawk* 

A horn then sounds. 

Raven: Corn?

No, no. A horn. Not Corn. 

Raven: Oh.

Lord Commander Mormont: Good. That horn can only mean one thing… that Jarmen Buckwell has reached Craster’s Keep and that it is not abandoned. Finally, some sign of civilization. We can stop at Craster’s for some warmth and shelter.

Jon: I dunno. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about this Craster guy. They say he’s a kinslayer. A liar. A raper. A craven. And a slaver. They say he has a bunch of daughters and then marries them when they become teenagers.

Mormont: Yeah, all of those things sound pretty accurate.

Jon: Then why the hell are we pretending like he’s a friend to the Night’s Watch?

Mormont: I dunno. Thoren Smallwood seems to think that Craster is a pretty chill, cool guy.

Jon: Thoren Smallwood is a freaking creep. Of course he’d like Craster. Thoren Smallwood is the guy who you hear that the FBI raided his house and it was full of guns and child pornography. Then instead of the neighbors being like, “Oh we can’t believe it!,” it’s one of those cases where everyone is like, “Yep, that seems like him.”

Mormont: Whatever. We either go to Craster’s Keep to get dry and have some food… or we stay out in the cold rain, catch pneumonia, and then die.

Jon: I guess we can go to Craster’s Keep.

And so they go there. When they arrive, Jon is not impressed. There is a sign outside which says “Craster’s Keep / Branch Davidian Compound.” 

Jon: Wow. I wasn’t expecting a giant, stone castle or anything. But this is a shithole. It looks like a couple of shacks with a leaky roofs.

However, on the plus side there are a bunch of naked women running around. 

Jon: In THIS weather? That’s crazy! PUT ON SOME CLOTHES. Just who are these naked girls anyway? Craster’s wives? Craster’s daughters?

Ottyn Wythers: Yes.

Jon: Yes to whic—ahh, okay. I see now.

Jon looks around and sees that the great hall to the keep is probably only big enough to accommodate 30-50 of the Night’s Watch. Despite the promise of shelter, a lot of the 200 men will need to stay outside in their tents.  And the great hall itself isn’t that “great.” It might as well be a barn itself since it smells like dog shit. 

Edd: Ah, there you are, Jon. The Lord Commander says you are to join him and meet with Craster. But your wolf stays outside.

Ghost: *whimper* [Translation: Boooooo!]

Jon enters and joins the Lord Commander, who is asking Craster some questions about his recent interactions with the Watch. 

Mormont: So, have you seen Benjen recently?

Craster: Oh… old Benjen Stark? No way, I haven’t seen that dude in like three years. The last time I saw any people from the Watch was when these guys named Waymar Royce, Gared and Will came by to visit. What a bunch of asses. All my wives were staring at Waymar. But he was too proud to sleep under my roof.

Mormont: Did you know that, like, every single village a hundred miles around you is completely abandoned? They’re all running from the Wights. Two of our men rose from the dead at Castle Black and tried to kill us all.

Craster: Hrm. I wouldn’t know anything about that. *shifty eyes*

Jon: Hey! What’s up with those shifty eyes? Are you lying? Do you know more than you’re telling us?

Craster: No! Of course not! *even shiftier eyes* 

Mormont: You know, with all these dangerous Wights roaming around, we can escort you back to the wall and to safety.

Craster: Nah, I’m good here. This is my place and I’m free here. I’d rather die free than live as a slave. Every man dies. But not every man truly lives!

Jon: Don’t quote fuckin’ Braveheart around us, man.

Jarmen Buckwell: Yeah. And don’t pretend like you “Free Folk” are actually all that free. You just serve a different king… that “King Beyond the Wall,”  Mance Rayder.

Craster: Hahaha, Mance? You think I serve him? Please. One day he sent a messenger to me, telling me I needed to abandon my keep and come groveling to him. I sent that messenger back with his tongue cut out.

Jon: Dude, not cool. He was just a messenger.

Craster: So look, here is the deal. You bitches can all sleep on my floor. But I’m only going to feed 20 if you. The rest can fend for themselves.

Mormont: Oh, all we need is your roof. Nothing else. We have some food and wine that we can share with you in thanks for the shelter.

Craster: WINE? FUCK YEAH! GIMMIE! GIMMIE! GIMMIE! Oh… and there is one other house rule. Anyone who touches one of my wives gets his dick cut off.

Mormont: Well, considering that 70% of the Night’s Watch is made up of rapists, that’s going to be a tough one. But fair enough. One thing we’ll also need from you is some help to navigate the north. Any info you might have about where Mance is, etc. 

Craster: Sure, sure. Do you have anyone who can draw maps? I’ll explain some terrain around here and you can draw it all down.

Jon: Samwell Tarley is good with maps.

Mormont: Indeed. Go fetch him, Jon. And also fetch me an axe. I want to give Craster an axe as an additional house warming gift.

And so Jon goes to get Sam. On the way out, he sees that the rest of the Watch have already begun setting up their tents outside. Jon sees Edd and shares with him Lord Jeor’s instructions. 

Edd: An AXE? Why the hell is Mormont giving Craster an axe? The most likely thing Craster will do with it is stick it in one of our backs. 

Jon: Thoren Smallwood says that Craster is a friend to us.

Edd: Pfft. Up here beyond the wall the only difference between a “friend” and an “enemy” is that your “friends” bury you in a grave after they murder you.

Just then, Jon hears a loud screaming coming from some girl. 

Edd: Oh shit, what is that?

Jon: I dunno. But there is a 90% chance it has something to do with the giant horse dog that travels around with me.

Jon runs off to see about the commotion, and sure enough it’s Ghost-related. Ghost has just broken open a cage and begun to eat two rabbits that were inside of it. One of Craster’s daughters/wives is backed into a corner and screaming in fear of the giant direwolf. 

Girl: AGH! That thing is going to EAT me!

Jon: No Ghost won’t! Ghost would never eat someone. You know, unless he had been starved and hungry for several days because there is no game to catch around here, combined with being irritated by endless cold rain. Which describes the situation we are in perfectly. So never mind. GHOST! Get over here and don’t eat that lady.

Ghost meekly comes back over to Jon, but refuses to let go of his tasty new rabbit treats. 

Girl: Oh thank you, lord, for saving me.

Jon: Are you talking to me and calling me a “lord,” or are you thanking God?

Girl: You.

Jon: Oh, I’m not a lord. Hey, are you Craster’s daughter or wife?

Girl: Yes.

Jon: Yes to whic—ahh, okay. I see now. Gross.

Girl: You know, I was going to breed those rabbits.

Jon: I’m sorry. I’d pay you back but I don’t have any money. Not that minted currency has any value is you live in a little rape cult compound, hundreds of miles away from civilization.

Then Chett arrives on the scene. Because why not? 

Chett: YEEE HAWWWWW! Jon Snow, I hate you because you helped Sam take my nice job away runnin’ moonshine for Maester Aemon. But you’re not so tough without that direwolf.

Jon: Whatever. I don’t have time for a damn Chett scene right now. I’m leaving.

Jon (with Ghost) leaves to find Sam, which was what he was ordered to do by Mormont in the first place. But instead of taking Sam back to Craster to draw some maps, they decide to cook up the second of the two rabbits.

Ghost: *woof* [Translation: See how cool I am? I ate the one rabbit myself. But the second rabbit I saved for my best friend, Jon].

All the other rangers of the Night’s Watch are jealous as they see and smell Jon cooking the rabbit. Sure, it’s scrawny and pathetic thing. But it’s better than their rations of Slim Jims and hard tack. 

Macho Man: OOOH YEA--

--No. I’m going to stop you right there, Randy Savage. You’re presently down in Kings Landing and so you can’t be here too. 

Sam: So, speaking of savages... is this Craster guy a savage like everyone says?

Jon: Yeah sure. Pretty much. Now go draw your damn map.

Sam goes to draw his damn map. Then Jon falls asleep like some sort of narcoleptic spaz. 

Jon wakes up the next morning and Ghost is gone. Probably out looking to kill some more stuff. 

Voice: Jon! JON!

Jon: Huh? Who dis? New phone.

Voice: Jon, it’s me.

Jon: This sounds like some sort of female voice. I’m not supposed to talk to Craster’s girls. You know, even though I already did last night.

Girl: It’s me. The same girl from last night. The one with the rabbits.

Jon: Oh right. HEY are you wearing Sam’s cloak? I can tell it’s Sam’s because the cloak is waaaaay too big for you. It’s huge. You could take that cloak, put it up the mast of a ship, and have a functional sailboat. It’s that big.

Girl: Yes. This is Sam’s cloak and yes he is very obese.

Jon: Am I going to keep calling you “Girl” and “Voice” or is your character actually going to get a name?

Gilly: You can call me "Gilly."

Jon: Cool. Now go away because I’m not supposed to talk to you.

Gilly: Don’t worry, Craster won’t know. He drank all that wine Mormont gave him last night, and now he’s passed out drunk. He’ll be like that all day.

Jon: This seems like the perfect opportunity to just murder him while he’s passed out and be done with him.

Gilly: Yes. That would probably be a good idea. But despite the logic of that suggestion, that won’t happen.

Jon: So what do you want?

Gilly: Take me with you! I want to escape here and leave with you all. Craster wouldn’t even notice if I was gone since he has 19 wives.

Jon: First of all… NO. Second… he would totally notice. 19 is not too high of a number to keep track of. Let’s say I lived in a place that allowed bigamy and had 19 wives. Specifically, let’s say I was married to Scarlett Johansson, Sofía Vergara, Penélope Cruz, Eva Mendes, Jessica Alba, Beyoncé, Eva Longoria, America Ferrera, Salma Hayek, Jennifer Lawrence, Shakira, Mila Kunis, Hayden Panettiere, Selena Gomez, Rosario Dawson, Alexis Bledel, Zoe Saldana, JLo, and Gina Rodriguez.  Then let’s say that Shakira ran away and left me. Do you think I’d FORGET that I was married to Shakira? No way. At max, maybe I wouldn’t realize she was gone for a day or two if I was super busy having sex with all my other hot wives. But after that? You can rest assured I’d be like, “Hey! Where the hell is Shakira?!”

Gilly: Wow. You must really have a Latina thing.

Jon: What?

Gilly: Fourteen out of the nineteen women you mentioned were Latina. That’s about 74%.

Jon: No way. Surely you’re overestimating.

Gilly: Nope. *counting on fingers* Sofía Vergara, Penélope Cruz, Eva Mendes, Jessica Alba, Eva Longoria, America Ferrera, Salma Hayek, Shakira, Selena Gomez, Rosario Dawson, Alexis Bledel, Zoe Saldana, JLo, and Gina Rodriguez. That’s fourteen.

Jon: No way. Alexis Bledel is Latina? The little annoying White girl from Gilmore Girls? I don't believe that for a minute.

Gilly: Her father is from Argentina.

Jon: And Rosario Dawson? I thought she was Black.

Gilly: Puerto Rican and Afro-Cuban.

Jon: Well shit, I guess I have a "Latina thing." The bottom line is, the Night’s Watch will have nothing to do with helping you escape Craster. That’s not our business.

Gilly: But… but… but Sam said  you’d help! He said that the Night’s Watch helps the innocent and the weak. I’m innocent and weak! Help me.

Jon: Nah.

Gilly: Can’t you see I’m pregnant with child?

Jon: Yeah, I sort of noticed a bump there but I didn’t want to be a dick and say anything in case you were just fat.

Gilly: One of the other women, Nella, said that the baby is going to be a boy. Do you see any boys around here?

Jon: Hrm. You know what… I’m just noticing that now. All girls except for Craster. Crazy, right? I guess that guy only shoots out XX chromosomes, if you know what I mean.

Gilly: Oh no, he has boys all the time. Do you want to know what he does with them?

Jon: Sure, I’m intrigued. Please tell me. But first, let me start sipping this scalding hot coffee.

Jon starts drinking a Dunkin Donuts large black coffee. Don't ask where it came from, that's not important to the story. 

Gilly: He sacrifices them to the Others. He gives them as gifts to the White Walkers!

Jon does a spit take and shoots all his hot coffee everywhere. 

Jon: DA FUQ?

Gilly: Yeah. Really.

Jon: No way. You’ve seen the Others? And Craster just GIVES babies to them?

Gilly: Yes. He leaves them in the woods and The Others take them.

Jon: I call bullshit. If you've seen these Others, what color are their eyes? But before you answer, let me have another sip of this delicious, piping hot Dunkins. Because I didn’t get to drink my first sip.

Gilly: Blue. Their eyes are all bright and glowing blue.

Jon: *spit take again* 

Gilly: Take me back to the Wall! Please! I don’t want my baby to die!

Jon: Look babe, we’re not even going to the Wall. We’re going the opposite direction. I mean, I’ll talk to Lord Commander Mormont about this. But I think you are S.O.L.

Jon walks away and goes have breakfast with a bunch of the bros. One of the bros, Dywen, is claiming he had sex with a bunch of Craster’s girls last night. But everyone knows that is B.S. and he was just jerking off in a bush or something. After his quick bite, Jon continues on to the Lord Commander. 

He enters Craster’s Keep and is greeted by Mormont and his raven. 

Raven: Corn?

Jon: No asshole, I don’t have any damn corn. Do you think I go around carrying corn in my pockets all the time? Who does that? Only an absolute dipshit.

Mormont: Ah, Jon. There you are. Let me talk to you in a second… right after I pull this corn out of my pockets and give it to this raven.

Raven: CORN! CORN! CORN!

Mormont: Now where were we? Oh right. I meant to ask you if it was still raining out there.

Jon: I mean you could have figured that out by looking out of a window yourself, but no… the rain stopped.

Mormont: Good, good. Then tell everyone to saddle up! We’re leaving within the hour.

On the way to go tell the men to saddle up, Jon finds Sam… hanging out with damn Gilly just like he’s NOT supposed to be doing. 

Jon: Damnit Sam, you fat piece of shit. What exactly were to trying to pull with that Gilly shit?

Gilly: Uh, I think I’ll be leaving.

She leaves. 

Sam: I… uhh… ermm… I mean… I…

Jon punches Sam in the dick and walks away.  That doesn’t really happen, but it essentially serves the same narrative point of what did happen. The point being that Sam is fucking stupid, didn’t think this through, and has no fucking plan for how a thing like that would work. 

Soon, everyone saddles their horses and leaves. I mean obviously not Craster and his women. But everyone else.  Jon decides to be all subtle about what Gilly told him though.

Jon: Lord Commander. Don’t you think it’s strange that Craster has no boys?

Mormont: Duh. Craster sacrifices his boys to the White Walkers by leaving them in the woods.

Jon: WHAT THE HELL? YOU ALREADY KNEW THIS?

Mormont: Sure. I thought everybody knew. That's why The Others leave him alone and don't kill him.

Jon: And you had us all stay in his house and pretended like he was some sort of cool, normal guy that the Night’s Watch could trust?

Mormont: Kid, you’re too young to understand how the damn world works. You gotta learn to become a moral relativist like me. Is Craster an inherently good person? No, of course not. He murders his sons and rapes his daughters. But we need him. Do you know how many Ranger lives Craster has saved over the years by providing food and shelter to us beyond the Wall when we’re ranging?

Jon: Uhh… I’m going to guess twenty three.

Mormont: It was a rhetorical question. I don’t actually know the exact number. The point is Craster is his own man. He’s sworn no loyalty to any liege lord and he’s not bound by the laws of any land.

Jon: Oh, so he’s a libertarian?

Mormont: Pretty much. Now let me drop some more plot exposition before this Chapter is done.  While you were away, Craster told us that Mance Rayder was gathering all the Free People by the Frostfangs.

Jon: Oh crap! You mean that cruel, inhospitable wilderness land of stone and ice?

Mormont: Well, that vague description can pretty much describe anywhere here, but yes. You have the gist of it.  My point is that Mance seems to be gathering all the Free People to assemble an army. That army’s ultimate goal is to attack the Wall and invade the realm.

Jon: Well that will never happen. Wildlings have tried for centuries to invade. They’ve never succeeded.

Mormont: True. But that was then when people gave a shit about the Wall and the Kings of Westeros used to actually send men here to defend it. Now we’re a pitiful shadow of what we used to be. And not only is the Night’s Watch a shadow of its former self… what happens if the Wildlings get past the Wall? Who will fend them off in the North? Not the Starks, as your brother Robb is off to the south, fighting the Lannisters.

Jon: Hrm, good point. And interesting that you mention that the North is completely undefended now, because I have an odd feeling that the next Chapter will be a Theon Chapter.

ACoK 22: Catelyn II

Cat is having sweet, wonderful dreams of pleasant family life with her alive husband and her children who are not fighting in wars, nor cripples, nor held captive by the Lannisters.

Then she wakes up and returns to reality.

Cat: Fuck

She then goes to have breakfast.

Shadd, her guardsman: I’m making some oats for breakfast, Lady Stark. Care to have some?

Wendel Manderly, Wyman’s son who is also fat: Oh yes, Cat! You have to try these oats. Especially with roast quail in it. SO GOOD.

Cat: Shut up, lardo. Oats and bread is enough for me. It’s like 7 in the morning. Stop being so fat and eating quail at 7 in the morning.

Wendel: *shame*

In addition to Ser Wendel and Shadd, Cat also rides south with Ser Perwym Frey, Lucas Blackwood (not to be confused with Lucas Black from Tokyo Drift), and Robin Flint. 

Perwyn Frey: Oh man. I love all of you. You’re all the best! I hope we traveling companions can be best friends forever. Cat. Wendel, Lucas, Robin. All of you. I hope that one day all four of you, and many more, can be invited back to the Twins for a great, big wedding ceremony.

Cat: Aww, that’s so sweet, Perwyn. Thanks.

Wendel: Yes, I would not miss this wedding for the world!

Lucas: Indeed. Even though I don’t know who this wedding is for yet, I’m already going to RSVP for it.

Robin: I will be there too. That’s a promise.

Perwyn: GREAT!

And so with that settled, they all continue on their way to treat with King Renly. In this sense, “treat” is an old fashioned word that means something between “negotiate” and “meet.” It does not mean that they will give Renly treats. This is not Halloween. There is no such thing as Halloween in Westeros. Although it is indeed Fall Harvest time. So if there were one, it would be about now.

Cat recalls all the crazy actions that brought her this way, including her son manipulating her into going by saying he’d send Greatjon Umber in her place if she didn’t. But the Greatjon has the same diplomatic suaveness as Donald Trump, so Cat refused and said she’d go instead. She should have known that Robb was just bluffing about the Greatjon, but it got her to go anyway. She’s proud of her son being smart enough to manipulate her like that. He might truly be a great king one day. Surely he won’t make any stupid life decisions without her while she’s away. Surely.

Before she left to on the trip, she wrote to Bran and Rickon, and met with her father Hoster one last time. But her dad was so far gone he didn’t even recognize her and thought that she was his dead wife. Sad. 

Suddenly, the party traveling south is surrounded by twenty men, led by this dude:

Ser Colen: HALT! I am Ser Colon of Greenpools! Who goes there?

Cat: Wow, your name is Colon?

Colen: NO! COLEN! With an E!

Cat: I’m Cat Stark. These are other people.

Colen: Oh, cool. I welcome you on behalf of King Renly. I’ve been ordered to escort you to his Majesty.

And Ser Colen escorts them into Renly’s camps. As they pass through, Cat can’t help but realize how big the camps are. The forces backing Renly are clearly much bigger than Robb’s own rag-tag armies of the North. There are thousands of campfires, siege engines, tents, roads, and pavilions.  

As they ride through, they notice a tournament going on by a small castle. Or perhaps its just a chalk quarry in an overflow parking lot.

Colen: Wait here and watch this tournament while I go tell King Renly that you have arrived. I mean, surely there will be some character in this tournament who is important enough to become a main character with POV chapters in the future.

"Red Ronnet" Connington: Boy, I hope it’s me! You know, my dad’s cousin was Jon Connington who used to be Hand of the King to Prince Aerys II and was a good friend of Rhaegar. I’m sure that makes me a key character in these stories!

It won’t. Red Connet’s most notable contribution will be to be punched in the face by Jaime. 

Red Ronnet: Awwww, damnit!

Red Ronnet is then knocked off his horse by some knight in the armor of House Tarth. 

Cat: Oh wow, that Tarth knight seems really good. Super strong and masculine. But this whole tournament thing is stupid. Renly is in the middle of a REAL WAR and yet he’s playing at war with this tourney stuff. He should focus on the REAL threat.

Starscream: The Autobot moon base!

Cat: What? NO! Get outta here, Starscream!!!

Starscream transforms into a McDonnell Douglas F-15 Eagle and flies away.

In the crowd, Cat looks around at the nobles watching the tourney. After seeing people like Randyll “Sam’s not so loving father” Tarley, she also spots King Renly and his young wife, who must be this “Margaery Tyrell” person that everyone is talking about. 

Cat: Geez, he looks just like Robert when he was young and thin. It’s amazing.

Finally the jousting tournament nears its end – with only two competitors remaining. The knight from House Tarth and Ser Loras Tyrell.  They rush at each other. The knight from Tarth wins.

Crowd: BOOOOO!

Cat: Why is everyone booing that knight who won? Just who is that guy?

Colen: Hey, I’m back just in time to answer your question. Not a guy. That’s Lord Selwyn the Evenstar’s daughter, Brienne of Tarth. Everyone calls her “Brienne the Beauty.” But they do it ironically because she’s really fuckin' ugly.

Cat: That’s wrong on so many levels.

Renly: I declare Brienne of Tarth the winner of the tournament. HUZZAH! And, as every man knows, whenever a King officiates a tournament he magically gets the same powers as a genie from a lamp and can grant one wish. Brienne, tell me your wish.

The crowd starts shouting suggestions. 

Elyas Willum: WISH FOR AN END TO THE WAR OF THE FIVE KINGS!

Lady Arywn Oakheart: WISH FOR WORLD PEACE!

Guyard Morrigen: WISH FOR AN END TO CANCER!

Brienne: I wish… I wish… to be named a member of your Rainbow Kingsguard!!!

Renly: Hrm. I was going to save this last rainbow cape I made to be given to Ser Barristan Selmy. He got fired by Joffrey, so I figured maybe he would turn up to serve me. His TRUE king. But since he never came here, I suppose I can give it to you.

Brienne takes of her helm and celebrates. 

Cat: HOLY CRAP SHE IS UGLY. WOW. I MEAN… JEEZ! I’m trying to be an understanding person her… but… man, oh man. I know that judging a woman by her physical attractiveness only feeds into the patriarchy and promotes more sexism and abuse of women. But seriously. If this was Sparta, they would have thrown that baby off the cliff.

Colen: Oh yeah, and King Renly says that he’s ready to meet with you know, Lady Stark. But he can only pencil you in for a few minutes. Please come over.

And so they head over to Renly.

Colen: King Renly, may I introduce you to Lady Catelyn Stark, mother of Lord Robert Stark of Winterfell.

Cat: *ahem*… I think you mean KING Robert Stark.

Renly: OH SHIT. You’re going to correct him right in front of my face? You do realism that I am KING Renly, and I claim rule over all seven of the Seven Kingdoms? That means I don’t recognize your son’s claim. That’s a pretty damn passive-aggressive thing to do the first time you meet a person.

Cat: Actually, it was just aggressive-aggressive.

Renly: HAHAHA, I think I’m going to like you, Cat. I’m deeply sorry about what happened to your husband. He seemed like an okay dude. He really should have listened to me though. Anyway, once I take back Kings Landing, I promise to give you Cersei Lannister’s head as a gift.

Cat: Gross. What am I going to do with that, Renly?

Brienne: Do not address him as “Renly!” You shall kneel to your king and address him as “Your Grace.”

Renly: Hahaha, oh man. I’ve got to apologize for Brienne here. It’s her first day on the job as a  Kingsguard. Her first minute, really. I guess you can tell she’s going to be that really anal employee who is a real stickler for the rules and is no fun to work with at all.

Cat: Whatever. I didn’t come her to talk about that. We need to talk business.

Renly: Indeed, indeed. So when is your son going to march on Harrenhal and take out fuckin' Tywin, huh?

Cat: How the hell would I know? Does it look like I’m sitting on his war council right now? No, it doesn’t. Besides, I don’t know if I can even trust you yet.

Renly: Fair enough. By the way, your boy is hot shit. Everyone is talking about him like he’s Captain Badass. I mean… taking Jamie Lannister as a prisoner? DAYUM! That’s sweet. Although personally I don’t know why you’re keeping him as a prisoner rather than just executing him like he deserves.

Lord Randyll Tarly: Your son should have come in person to pay homage to his king, rather than sending you, Lady Stark. A feeble woman.

Cat: Nobody likes you, Randyll. Shut up. My son is busy FIGHTING a war rather than having a lame tournament and pretending to battle. I hope you burn to death in a dragon’s fire.

Randyll: THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN, I PROMISE YOU! NEVER!

Renly: Oooh, burn! No… literally. Burn. You’re outmatched with this Cat Stark here, Randyll. But anyway, Cat, I am the king so I have a lot of important stuff to do. Let’s continue our discussions later. Please stay for tonight’s feast.

And so Cat stays for the evening and hangs out in Renly’s pavilion. She understands why the march of Renly’s army is so slow. This army is huge and is bringing all sorts of unnecessary stuff with them. It’s more of a traveling circus than an army readying for battle. 

That evening at the feast, Cat is treated to singing and entertainment. She gets to sit near to King Renly and sees him interact with his wife, Margaery. 

Cat: Oh, they look like they’re happy enough together. Or at least they’re pretending to be.

Robin: Odd that Renly is joking, laughing and paying more attention to Ser Loras Tyrell though, instead of Margaery Tyrell.

Cat: Hrm. They must be best bros or something.

Cat continues to watch the revelry. In her mind, she sees all these young people about to go to war. War will quickly age them, as it did to her generation when Robert’s Rebellion began. Winter is Coming. Winter comes for everyone.

Renly: Ah, Cat! There you are! Hope you’ve been having fun watching all this singing and juggling and bullshit.

Cat: Meh.

Renly: Come on, let’s go on a walk together. I wanna chat with you in private.

Brienne: Your Grace, please let me come with you to protect you.

Renly: WOW. So needy and attached. Do you really think Cat Stark came down here to stab me in the back or something? Fuck off and give me some space, Overly Attached Bodyguard.

Brienne mopes. Cat and Renly leave together. They begin to walk up the stairs to the castle. 

Renly: Sooooo… Cat, Cat, Cat. Quick question. Ser Barristan Selmy hasn’t joined Robb up in Riverrun, has he?

Cat: Huh? Why? What are you talking about?

Renly: Oh. Never mind. You know, I offered your husband a hundred swords one day as my brother was dying… so we could take out Cersei in one fell swoop. He refused me. Look, I liked Ned well enough and he was my brother’s true friend. But he was stubborn. He got himself killed. If he had only listened to me--

Cat: --Is this supposed to make me feel better or worse?

Finally, they reach the roof of the castle and look out into the night sky. They have a great view of Renly’s HUGE camp and army. 

Renly: Look at that. See? How many men does Robb have? 40,000 at most, I’d imagine. I’ve got TWICE THAT right here, plus another 10,000 soldiers loyal to Mace Tyrell sitting at Highgarden, and a strong garrison at Storm’s End. I also intend for the forces of Dorne to soon join my cause. They have no love for the Lannisters. In fact, just the opposite. And then there are the forces of my brother Stannis at Dragonstone. Hopefully they shall bend the knee to me soon.

Cat: You know, your brother Stannis is the older brother. Surely he has the better claim to the throne.

Renly: Better claim? Better CLAIM? Stannis is respected and feared. But is he loved? No. Would he make a good king? No. Does being born first mean that you deserve to rule if you’re otherwise incompetent? No. I mean how did my brother even get the throne? Was his claim better? Fuck no. Rhaegar Targaryen was the heir to the Iron Throne. So what did Robert do? He smashed Rhaegar Targaryen to death with a fucking war hammer. He TOOK the throne. In the end, he claimed that the fact that our paternal grandmother was Rhaelle Targaryen, the youngest daughter of King Aegon V, provided some sort of “blood connection” to justify his claim. But that is nonsense. I’m sure if you go through the genealogy tables you can find two dozen people with better or equal blood claims. Did any of those other people smash Rhaegar Targaryen in the chest with a hilariously giant hammer? Nah. And that’s why he became king. He seized the moment and took it. Just like Aegon did three hundred years ago.

Cat: I’m not going to lie, that’s a pretty accurate and convincing argument.

Renly: I have an offer for you, Lady Stark. Your son Robb can call himself “the King in the North.” He can call himself “the Pope”, or “Ziggy Stardust”, or whatever he wants to call himself. I do not care. So long as he bends the knee to me and recognizes me as his overlord.

Cat: And what if he doesn’t?

Renly: Haha. If he doesn’t? Look, I intend to be ruler of the SEVEN KINGDOMS. All seven. If that means I have to fight you too after I’m done with the Lannisters and my brother… then so be it. But I think it would be much wiser for your son to join me rather than fight me. I know you northerners have your pride. But Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon. It was a wise decision that saved his people from slaughter. Join me and we can end this war in a manner of weeks.

As Cat begins to mull over a reply, suddenly a messenger runs up to the roof, shouting. 

Messenger: KING RENLY! KING RENLY! URGENT NEWS! Storm’s End is under assault!

Renly: WHAT?! How did this happen? When did Lord Tywin leave Harrenhal? My scouts and spies said he was still there.

Messenger: Oh, it’s not the Lannisters who are assaulting Storm’s End, your grace. It is your brother, Stannis.

Cat: Dunn DUN DUNNNNNNNN!

Renly: No, stop. Don’t do that, Cat.

ACoK 21: Bran III

Bran is riding his horse, Dancer, to the Harvest Feast. YESSSS! It's finally Harvest Feast time! Bran's only regret is that his direwolf, Summer, doesn't get to hang out at the feast too. Ser Rodrick wouldn't allow it and made sure that Summer was out in the godswood. But then again, Summer has a habit of ripping the necks out of people and tasting their warm blood. So maybe it's a good thing that he's not invited to this big party with strangers. 

Random Lords: FOR THE STARKS! FOR WINTERFELL!

Bran: Oh yeah, a bunch of random, drunk Lords all shouting celebratory stuff as I ride this horse by them. Big deal.

Osha and Hodor unstrap him from the horse and he sits on the dais, ready for the par-tay to begin. Rodrick does the old "Shhhhh!" move to get everyone to shut up. It's a classic. With everyone now silent, Bran begins the ceremonies. 

Bran: Welcome to the ENCHANTMENT UNDER THE SEA FALL HARVEST everyone! Let us thank the gods for this bountiful harvest, and for my brother Robb's victories. May there be a hundred more!

Random Lords: HUZZAH!!!!!!

Everyone celebrates and shouts "Huzzah" as they bite into Turkey legs like this is some kind of Renaissance Faire or a Medieval Times.  The feasts begin. GRRM then goes into great detail to describe the variety of dishes that are served, because he is fat. I won't talk about that though. 

Bran sees all sorts of crazy stuff at the party like Osha being sexually assaulted by drunk guys, the Walder brothers being fucking annoying (as usual), Lady Hornwood being depressed about her dead husband and needing to marry one of these other morons, Manderly being fat and eating Lamprey pies like it was some type of pie-eating competition (it isn't), the Umber brothers playing drinking games, etc.  Bran gets super bored and wishes he was in the godswood with Summer instead. He thinks about the last time Winterfell had a feast like this. It was when King Robert was here. But now, like, everyone from that feast is dead. His dad. King Robert. Jory. All those other random Stark household people. It's depressing. 

The door to the great hall is then kicked open and the smell of Doobie fills the room. 

Jojen Reed: Like, WHOOOOAAAA Man! Right on! We're here, everybody! Here to spread peace and love!

Meera: Ugh. Please, don't talk like that.


Little Walder: Ugh. It's one of those crannogmen from the Neck. Gross. Those people are all mudmen who live in the swamps who steal shit and have green teeth from eating frogs.

Big Walder: Really? Because he looks more like the kid Sam from Love Actually to me.

Ser Rodrick: Bran, these must be the children of your father's dear friend, Howland Reed. They come from Greywater Watch.

Bran: Thanks for arriving all late.

Meera: Sorry. Our castle is mobile and moves around. So it's hard to get ravens there.

Bran: How does that even work?

Meera: Well, the books never really explain it. I guess you can probably assume we just constructed a castle on some big, artificial island that can be anchored down occasionally. But when the anchor is lifted it can float elsewhere.

Bran: That sounds like a "boat" to me. What you're saying is that Greywater Watch is essentially a yacht?

Meera: Maybe.

Jojen: Well, man. I think it's more like a Volkswagen Bus with peace signs all over it, daddy-o's! Now let's get high and start playing some Janis Joplin!

Jojen then puts on his rose-colored sunglasses, even though he's inside.

Meera: Wait... why exactly is the narrator portraying Jojen this way? There is absolutely nothing in the books to make Jojen appear to be a hippy. 

Jojen: SORRY, MEERA. I'm, like, a "green-seer." And by that I mean I see things when I get the green, if you know what I mean. Even my eyes are GREEN! Whoa!

Jojen stares at his hand for a minute, confused by it. He then pulls out a loose joint and starts toking.

Bran: Oh, this is going to be even worse than the depiction of Hodor. Why is the narrator ruining all of my chapters by re-interpreting all my supporting characters?

Look, I'm doing whatever I can to try to make the Bran chapters more interesting. 

Bran: I don't think I'm going to like these characters at all.

Rodrick: Now, now, Bran. The Reeds are close allies of us. Howland was your father's closest friend and probably knows his deepest, darkest secrets.

Bran: You mean like stuff about the parentage of Jon Snow?

Rodrick: Yes.

Bran: GREAT! So that means Howland Reed himself will soon make an appearance since he's such an important character?

Rodrick: No.

The two Reeds then kneel before the dais and pledge their loyalty to House Stark with an ancient oath: 

Meera and Jojen (together): To Winterfell we pledge the faith of Greywater. Hearth and harvest and we yield up to you, my lord. Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you.

Jojen: I swear it by, like, far out earth and water.

Meera: I swear it by bronze and iron.
Meera and Jojen (together): We swear it... by... ICE... AND... FIRE!!!!!

Bran: Oh SHIT! Did they just say ICE AND FIRE?!

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 "Ice and Fire" flashes again and again.

Bran: What the hell?

Cowboy Curtis: He just said the Secret Word!

Pee-Wee: HEH-HEH!!

And as quickly as they all appeared, they all vanish right back into the countryside beyond Winterfell.

Bran: Okay, I think these characters are going to be super important now.

Jojen: Groovy, Brando! Groovy! I'm digging your vibe.

Bran: Please, never call me "Brando" again.

Jojen: Hey, man. I hear you, like, have some direwolves or something. And that they're totally chill. Not like those fascist German Shepherds that the fuzz have. I wanna pet one and give it some of my special brownies.

Bran: How do you know about the direwolves?

Jojen: Oh, I know things, man! Whenever I get high on the green, I can see things.

Bran: So you guys LICK frogs instead of eating them?

Rodrick: Dude, don't ask them that. It's rude.

So instead, Bran just awkwardly stares at Meera for a while. Until she catches him looking. Bran then blushes and turns away. 

Jojen: Whoa, this weed gives me the power to see that Bran has a crush on Meera. Far out!

Bran: What!

Jojen: Nah, just kidding. It's not the weed that allows me to see that, man. It's my eyes. I can tell that not every part of you from the waist down is disabled. Hahahaha! Major pocket rocket there, daddy-o!

Bran: WHAT?!

Jojen: It's all good, man. I'm not judging you. I support free love. It's how we live in the Crannog, man. We just smoke and do LSD and make love on blankets and listen to the Greatful Dead. You should try it, it's outta sight!

Bran: No thanks.

The party continues to rage. Rodrick tries to make a move on Lady Hornwood based on their perceived "spark" the other day, but he gets denied. Jojen and the Umbers start playing hacky sack.

Eventually Bran gets tired of everyone else having fun while he's just all crippled there. He asks for Hodor to carry him away and he goes off to bed.

As Bran tosses and turns, trying to sleep. He thinks more about the Reeds. Not only because he thinks that Meera is hot AF, but also because his dad used to talk about Howland.  FLASHBACK TIME!

Ned: Oh yeah, Bran. Me and Howland were best buddies. That's when knights were knights. Do you know who the greatest knight who ever lived was? Arthur Fucking Dayne. They called him "The Sword of the Morning." I fought him in battle at the Tower of Joy. Dayne would have killed me if it wasn't for Reed.

Bran: Cool story, dad! How about you go into more explicit detail about that particular encounter at the Tower of Joy. Perhaps explain some specific information about the battle against Dayne itself. Or maybe the reasons you were there at the Tower of Joy in the first place. Maybe even provide an end to the story, explaining what you found in the Tower when you got there. 

Ned: No, son. I think I'll just end my story there and not provide you the ending. 

Bran: What? WHY? That doesn't make sense! Why do you always start telling me the story about the Tower of Joy and then stop telling the story before you explain the end?

Ned: *shrugs*

Bran then falls asleep.  As he dreams, he turns into Summer again. He's in Summer's body, running around.  It is super fun being a wolf. But Summer/Bran then hears something. Voices. Talking. Just who exactly are these voices? 

Bran/Summer: *woof* [Translation: Oh hey! Intruders are trying to break in! I want to eat their faces!]

Meera: Yikes, look at the size of these wolves, Jojen!

Jojen: Wow, man! Like, loook at the size of these wolves. They're like horses, man. I bet they aren't even fully grown yet and will get even bigger. I want to, like, put a saddle on one of them and ride it to a Jimmy Hendrix concert.

Bran/Summer: *whimper* [Translation: WOW! It's Meera and Jojen! I wonder what they're doing here].

Meera: What does your super "green-seeing" power tell you about these wolves, Jojen?

Jojen puffs some Acapulco Red and stares at the wolves. 

Jojen: This one here, Shaggydog. I like that name, man. Shaggydog! Far out! But he's full of rage and fear... just like Richard Nixon, man. But this other one, Summer. He's super strong. I wanna, like, pet him and give him some of this reefer!

Meera: No, don't! He'll eat you!

Jojen: No way, man. What do we tell the god of death? Not today, man!

Meera: No, that's not your character.

Jojen reaches and pets Bran/Summer. It's an action that sends Bran spiraling out of control in dreamland. He's torn from Summer's body and he feels like he's falling again. 

Crow: *SQUAWK* FLY OR DIE!

Bran: Well, at least you're not talking about corn.

ACoK 20: Tyrion V

Deep under Rhaenys's Hill, it is chilly and dank.  Tyrion is off to visit the Guildhall of the Alchemists.

Macho Man: THE MA-CHO MAN THINKS THIS IS TOO COLD! HE IS GETTING OUT OF HERE, HALF MAN! OOoooOooo, YEAAAAH!

And so Tyrion continues on his own, and meets with Pyromancer Hallyne, the Grand Master of the guild.

Hallyne: Ah, Lord Hand. What an honor it is to have you down here. It's been such a long time that we've been visited. I am Wisdom Hallyne.

Tyrion inspects a jar of green substance -- WILDFIRE!!! 

But Tyrion is annoyed by these Pyromancer guys. They all call themselves "Wisdom" like it's their first name. Wisdom this. Wisdom that. Tyrion think it's a little pretentious for a sect of obscure, crazy wildfire-makers who long ago became irrelevant.

Still, Tyrion needs wildfire for his plans to protect the city. And the secrets of wildfire are pretty much the only thing the guild has going for it these days.

Hallyne: At warmer temperatures, it flows more freely than down here. The coldness is a precaution. Once kindled nothing can put wildfire out until it burns itself out on its own. It will seep into cloth, wood, leather, and even into steel.

Tyrion thinks of Thoros of Myr and his flaming sword. Perhaps Wildfire is the trick he uses for that.

Tyrion: Well, at least you're keeping all this stuff safe down here.

Hallyne: Haha, if you say so. It's not really. It leaks out of pots and everything. And there is a ton of it that is missing. It dates back to the era of the Mad King. Nobody knows where it might be! Only a few hundred pots of it were found the other year under the Great Sept of Baelor.

Tyrion: Well, that's reassuring. I wonder if a bunch of pots of wildfire being located directly under the Sept of Baelor is supposed to be some sort of--

Hallyne: --Chekhov's Gun, Lord Tyrion?

Tyrion: Yep.

Hallyne: I would imagine so. Although the show is ahead of the books. Nothing means the books will go the same way, but I'd say this one seems pretty obvious.

Tyrion: So how many jars do you have that you KNOW about and are tracking?

Hallyne: 7,840. Four thousand of those are left over from the reign of the Mad King. But we are working on more for you, Ser. We promise to reach the 10,000 jar goal. Just as you requested.

Tyrion: Awesome. And also NOT awesome because the whole concept of this terrifies me to my core.

Hallyne: Remember...  this stuff must be handled with great care! Our acolytes who make it are well trained and work in special cells to make the stuff. If there is any spillage or sign that the wildfire will go off, the cell is designed to dump a bunch of sand into it to smother the wildfire... along with the acolyte.

Tyrion: Brutal. So sand puts out the wildfire?

Hallyne: Yes.

Tyrion: But earlier you specifically said, "Once kindled nothing can put wildfire out until it burns itself out on its own." That is a direct quote. You said "NOTHING" can put it out.

Hallyne: Okay, my bad. Sand can put it out.

Tyrion: Cool. Well, keep it coming. Our soldiers and City Watch guys are gonna need it.

Hallyne: Common soldiers should not be handling this stuff. If you plan to use it in war... the men need to be trained!

Tyrion: A wise recommendation. Let me know of any empty spare jars you have. We can begin to have men train by handling those jars with water in them... before they move on to the real thing. Now, I think it is time for me to depart!

Hallyne: Very well ser. And again, I want to repeat what an honor it is for you to call upon our services. I mean the last time a Hand of the King visited the guild it was... ah, well...  you know... the Hand of the King WAS the Grand Master of the Guild!

Tyrion recalls. In the craziest days of the Mad King's rule and descent into insanity, Aerys II had his Hand, Lord Qarlton Chelsted, burned alive. The very man who burned him alive, Grand Master Rossart of the Alchemists' Guild, became the next hand. Which is an interesting way to get a job. Imagine if you got a job at Monster.com but the company was like, "Yes, you have been selected as our new Director for Social Media, but first you have to burn our old Director for Social Media to death." 

Anywaaaaay, Rossart was also the one responsible for burning Lord Rickard Stark (Ned's dad) alive, one of the events that helped to set off Robert's Rebellion and end the Targaryen dynasty. Eventually, Tyrion's brother Jaime killed Rossart.

Hallyne: You know, if the King himself wants to meet with us one day... that would also be an honor. We could have a grand feast for him. I hear Joffrey is one sick, twisted little fucker. I bet he'd love watching shit be burned up.

Tyrion: Oh no, that won't be necessary. The King has banned feasts anyway until the war is one.

What Tyrion doesn't mention is that he's the one who recommended to Joffrey that feasts be banned. Besides, Tyrion doesn't want Joffrey's sick, sadistic ass anywhere near this wildfire stuff, for the very reasons Hallyne mentioned.

After navigating the long tunnels, Tyrion departs at  Visenya's hill, says goodbye to the Grand Master, and meets up with his Vale Mountain Clansmen guards.

Macho Man: OOOH YEAH! THAT GUY HALLYNE REMINDED ME OF THE UNDERTAKER! THE MACHO MAN BEAT HIM AT A NUMBER OF HOUSE SHOWS IN 1991!

Surprisingly, Tyrion also finds Bronn there too.

Tyrion: Bronn, why are you here?

Bronn: I've been ordered by two different people to find you. First, Ser Jacelyn Bywater urgently requires you at the Gate of the Gods. Next, your sister commands you to attend her in her chambers at the Red Keep.

Tyrion: How can I be at two places at once? Whatever, I'll go to Ser Jacelyn first. Because that will piss off Cersei. And she's sloppy when she's angry.

So Tyrion goes to the Gate of the Gods.

Ser Jacelyn: Ah, there you are, Lord Hand. Ser Cleos Frey has just arrived in town.

Cleos: Here I am! I have terms of peace from Robb Stark that I wish is to deliver to Queen Cersei.

Tyrion: Ah, good. Give them to me.

Cleos: Dude, I just specifically said TO QUEEN CERSEI.

Tyrion: Cersei. Me. What's the difference?

Cleos shrugs and gives the terms to him.

Cleos: Times are desperate. All the lands and villages around the Gods Eye and Kingsroad are being burned to the ground. Even the Northerners are burning their own lands to make sure the Lannisters can't take any crops as they advance. Which is only making the Lannisters attack villages and kill the smallfolk. It's rough out there.

Tyrion starts reading through Robb's peace terms.

Tyrion: OH WOW. These are gold. These are hilarious! You gotta admit, that kid has a set of nuts on him to write this to Cersei.

Cleos: The boy waits at Riverrun, afraid to face your father Tywin in battle. He grows weaker every days as his Lords and soldiers run away to protect their own lands.

Tyrion: Yes. That was probably my father's plan all along.  And just for the record, I do have to tell you that these terms are totally unacceptable.

Cleos: No shit.

Tyrion: I mean... the exchange of Willem Lannister and your brother Tion for Sansa and Arya? Never gonna happen. I need you to meet with the Small Council, so that we can send our counter offer back to Robb.

Cleos: Yeah, Because I'm really looking forward to riding back to that war zone. That was sarcastic, by the way.

Tyrion: In the meantime, wait here in the city. We will summon you at the appropriate time.

With that, Tyrion then meets again with Ser Jacelyn. Jacelyn is in charge of training all these new recruits to the City Watch. Most of them are terrible, but they need jobs because the awful economic conditions caused by the war.  In time, maybe they won't suck. Tyrion is cynical. 

Tyrion: Ser Jacelyn, check out this clay pot. I want your men to learn how to fling these things safely, in the event one day they might need to shoot them off with wildfire in them.

Ser Jacelyn: A wise idea, Lord Hand. Although I have no taste for Alchemist's piss.

Tyrion: Oh wow. Is that what this stuff is really made from? Gross.

Ser Jacelyn: No. It was just a... uhm... never mind.

Tyrion, who is a busy little bee this chapter, then heads off to his next location. After a chunk of internal narration, something finally happens -- as Tyrion passes by Cobbler's Square, he hears a priest yelling about something. 

Priest: DOOM! DESPAIR! SORROW! For the Red Comet is a harbinger of death! It is the Father's scourge! Our whoremonger king is dead and when the boar ripped his belly open, snakes slid out and his rotting stench of sin reached the heavens. The gods sent destruction our way! Maggots and twisted little monkey demons rule in our castles! Even the High Septon has forgotten our gods! The red comet will cleanse this world with fire! Only the true believers shall be saved!

Tyrion: HEY! Is "little monkey demon" supposed to refer to me? That's not cool, man. I was born short.

Guy in Crowd: Wait! Excuse me! Mister Priest, ser! Are you sure this red comet represents a harbinger of fiery doom from our gods for all the sins committed?  Because I heard that it was related to fire, but only in the sense that it was a sign that some jailbait queen in Essos should step into her husband's funeral pyre with her dragon eggs to hatch them.

Other Guy: Yeah, I heard something along those lines too. Only it wasn't that the jailbait Essos queen should step in a fire, but that she should follow the comet to Qarth.

Lady: What?! Why is everybody talking about lame people out east in Essos? The comet is clearly meant as a sign for us here in Kings Landing. Only it's not a negative thing like this priest is saying. I think it's a positive thing. It's in celebration of our new king. I hear it's called "Joffrey's comet," and the gods sent it to us as a celebration.

Cobbler: No way, lady! Didn't you hear about that letter that's going around? Our true and rightful king, Stannis, sent it. Joffrey is an abomination made from incest. The comet is clearly sent from the one true god, the Lord of Light, and is meant to represent that Stannis is the Prince that was Promised, reborn. The comet is guiding Stannis here to Kings Landing, so that he should take the Iron Throne!

Cordwainer: That's TREASON, buddy! Stannis is no true king. No more than that boy up North is a king. Those stupid northerners also have lame, bullshit stories about the comet. They say that it's meant to represent Ned Stark's death. Or that it represents the victories of the Starks and Tulleys against the Lannister forces.

Shoemaker: I agree that it has to do with the Stark-Lannister war. The comet is definitely a herald, warning us all about the horrors of the coming war.

Cobbler's Apprentice: I personally think that the comet looks like a sword. Like, a hot sword on the forge or something. Since it's red.

Cobbler: If the sword is red, boy, couldn't it be a BLOODY sword instead of a hot one from the forge?

Lady: Oh yeah, that's probably a better idea. It does look a bit like that. You know, I had an uncle sent off to the Night's Watch. I bet he'd think the comet means something else entirely. Perhaps a message lighting the way through the Haunted Woods for a campaign north launched by their Lord Commander, Mormont.

Other Guy: That's nonsense. That would be as silly as if the men of the Iron Isles thought it to be a message from the drowned god.

Passing Maester: The Maesters of the Citadel in Old Town have a number of theories as well. One Maester studied such phenomena and believe these "comets" to be 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.

Everyone pelts the Maester with shoes because his idea is the stupidest sounding one. And also, this is Cobbler's Lane. Hence the wide availability of shoes. 

Tyrion: I swear, I have no idea why this book is called "A Clash of Kings" and not "Nearly One Thousand Pages of Speculation About a Fucking Comet."

Tyrion next goes to the Red Keep. And if you'll remember, Cersei has summoned him to come there a LOOOOONG time ago. Needless to say, she is PISSED. 

Cersei: HOW DARE you not come to your Queen's summons! And how dare you try to sell your niece like a bag of oats!

Tyrion: Hey, engaging in the farming and selling of oats is a totally legitimate occupation. Don't blaspheme the good name of people who deal with oats. They are some swell dudes, for sure.

Cersei: Huh?

Tyrion: Never mind. But do you mind clarifying WHERE exactly you heard I'm sending Myrcella to?

Cersei: Why? You should know this, since you're the one who made the proposal.

Tyrion: Just humor me.

Cersei: You're sending her to Dorne.

Tyrion: Ah, sweet. That means Maester Pycelle is the leaker. Which is super obvious because it's been pointed out that he's a spy for Cersei like 40 times already.

Cersei: Huh again? What was that? I didn't quite catch it. Are you talking in a Shakespearean aside to the audience?

Tyrion: Oh, what I said was, "Dorne is much safer than here in Kings Landing." Surely you must know that. Our feud with the Martells only goes back, like, one generation.  Plus Myrcella was born to fulfill her destiny as some sort of pawn in a marriage alliance. That is the role of women after all.

Cersei: NO! NO! NO! I won't allow it.

Tyrion: Too late. That bird has flown. Myrcella will go to Dorne and become a ward of Prince Doran until she is old enough to marry his son, Trystane. Ser Aerys Oakheart will also travel with Myrcella to protect her.

Cersei: Oakheart? Fuck that! That's not good enough. She'll be a hostage! She won't be safe! Prince Doran might try to kill her in vengeance for how daddy had the Mountain murder Doran's sister, Elia, all those years ago.

Tyrion: I don't think so. Prince Doran is far too noble to do anything like that. Much more noble than how you and your shitty son Joffrey treat hostages like Sansa.  I've also offered Prince Doran his sister's killer, a seat on the Small Council, some castles in the Dornish marshes, and a bridge in Brooklyn.

Cersei: You offer too much! And none of it with the Queen's consent!

Tyrion: Doran would accept no less than what I offered. Why? Were you think of offering him something different? Maybe dat coochie since you're single now?

Cersei slaps Tyrion. 

Cersei: How DARE you! Never speak to me like that again! Do you think that note from father saying that you are the acting Hand of the King will protect you? Ned Stark had a note too that he thought would protect him. You see how well that worked.

Tyrion: Well, the difference between Ned and me is that I have the City Watch on my side while Ned didn't. So there's that.

Cersei: What?

Tyrion: Look... Myrcella will be SAFE in Dorne. What do you think Stannis will do to her if he attacks Kings Landing and wins? You, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen will all be beheaded and your heads stuck on pikes next to each other.

Cersei breaks down and cries upon hearing that. 

Tyrion: Oh shit. Did I take that one too far?

Cersei: SHUT UP! You're all stupid! None of you MEN have done anything. Jaime got himself captured. Father hides in Harrenhal. If I was in charge around here, none of this would happen and my daughter would be safe.

Tyrion: #feminism?

Cersei: The point is... Kings Landing is shitty defended so we're pretty much doomed.

Tyrion: Nah, I don't think so. First of all, Stannis hasn't even shown any sign that he's planning on attacking yet. Even if he does, we can hold out a siege for a while. Enough time for father to march his army down and attack Stannis from the backside. And Stannis won't like a backside attack. I bet Renly would though. Huh? Huh? Get it?

Cersei: And then what about Robb Stark? What will HE do if father's army comes this way?

Tyrion: The boy's army doesn't have the strength to take out all of the Lannister forces and make their way here. Besides, the boy seems willing to make peace. See?

Tyrion whips out the letter from Cleos Frey from earlier, offering terms. 

Cersei: WHAT THE HELL?! Why do you have this? This was supposed to be handed to ME. Not to you!

Tyrion: Well, I am the HAND. So I HANDED it. Get it? Get it? I'm just full of jokes today.

And mercifully, the chapter then comes to and end, with Tyrion happy about his plotting. He gave Pycelle, Littlefinger and Varys three different messages and the message that leaked back to Cersei was the one that he gave to Pycelle. See how easy it is to ID a leaker? 

That Pycelle... I bet he has a world of hurt coming his way!

ACoK 19: Arya V

Arya is high up in a tree, and sees a fishing village in the distance. Smoke comes from the chimneys. It's the first sign of life she's seen since they fled the town by Gods Eye. The Lannisters totally burned everything down there. 

Arya: We should go to that town. Unless, of course, Amory Lorch is there. In which case, we shouldn't.

Being cautious, the few remaining survivors that were able to flee away from the burning and murder via the tunnel under the barn decide to go back to the Gods Eye town the next day to inspect the damage and see if there are any other survivors or supplies they can use. Amory Lorch and his Lannister men are long gone. But they don't find much else. 

Arya: We've got to find Yoren! There is no way he died!

Gendry: Found him.

Yoren's body lay on the ground, surrounded by Lannister soliders. Yep. He's dead. 

Arya: Damn. Now I guess we have to bury him or something.

The only survivors of the whole ordeal were Arya, Hot Pie, Lommy, Gendry, that little crying girl they now call "Weasel," Cutjack, Kurz, and Tarber. The latter three didn't escape through the farm tunnel - but were up in a holdfast that was well protected and which the Lannisters couldn't climb.

Kurz: Wow. We're specifically highlighted as survivors of the battle? Sweet! That must mean we'll be important characters who go on to do great and important things!

Kurz then falls over and dies from an infected wound. 

Cutjack and Tarber steal everything of value from the rest of the people and leave on their own. They will never appear again. Now it's just Arya, Hot Pie, Lommy, Gendry, and Weasel on their own. 

Arya: Well, I'm glad we introduced those addition 40 characters over the last few chapters just to have them all immediately killed off and/or never seen again.

Gendry: So cynical, Arry. Now come on. We need to keep on moving and get out of here.

Lommy: But I'm injured from the battle. Look at my leg. You guys need to carry me.

And so Gendry carries Lommy for a while. Until... 

Gendry: Hold on guys,  and stay here. I'm going to go scout out that village that Arya saw and see what's going on there.

Arya: I'm coming with you! Because I'm super stealthy!

Gendry: Whatever.

Hot Pie: Remember to bring us back some food!

Lommy: And some magical leg potion to make my leg heal.

So Arya and Gendry head off on their own. 

Gendry: Oh, Lommy is soooooo going to die. Look at how bad he is.

Arya: Yeah, his leg smells like death. We should look for some Maester to heal him.

Gendry: You know we will never find a Maester. We should leave him behind. He's slowing us down. And all he ever does is shout "I yield! I yield" when we meet anyone. He surrenders more than the French.

Arya: Who are the French?

Gendry shrugs. 

Gendry: Anyway, you're the only one that's any good, Arry. Even though you're just a girl.

Arya: WHAT?! I'm not a girl!

Gendry: Hahaha, whatever you say. Pull out your cock and prove it.

Arya: Damn! How did you figure out my clever ruse? I might have to kill you now.

Gendry: So who are you really? Since you thought those Gold Cloaks wanted to kill you.

Arya: You answer first! You have a secret too. Why did the Gold Gloaks want to kill you!

Gendry: I honestly have no idea. Now spill the beans.

Arya: Well, my name isn't "Arry." I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of Ned Stark.

Gendry: HOLY CRAP! I met your dad! Seemed like a cool dude, sorry about your loss. WOW. This is HUGE. You're a highborn lady? This whole time?!  I guess I have to start calling you m'lady.

Arya: Please don't.

Gendry: Whatever you say, m'lady.

Arya: I will cut you apart with this sword of mine while you sleep.

Gendry: If you insist, m'lady.

Arya: Forget this shit.

Arya runs off towards the village, leaving Gendry behind. He eventually catches up and they scout the village out together. 

Arya: This place stinks of death.

Gendry: I'll circle around the west. You go check out that way.

And so they separate and circle around the town. Arya sees tons of dead, rotting corpses. But she also sees a bunch of guards. Then she hears shouting. 

Guard: HEY! Look who I got here!

The guard pulls out a guy wearing a bull's helm. It's Gendry! His dumb ass totally got caught!

The guards beat the shit out of Gendry, and one of them takes his helm and puts it on himself. They lock up Gendry in a storehouse. 

Arya looks for some way or opportunity to free him, but she never finds one. As night falls, she retreats back to where she had left Hot Pie, Weasel and Lommy. 

Arya: Hot Pie! You've got to help me! Gendry's been captured. I can't save him alone. You need to help me.

Hot Pie: What? No way. Too dangerous.

Arya: Come on! Gendry is the guy who carried Lommy. How are we going to carry Lommy without Gendry around? Is your fat ass going to carry him?

Hot Pie: I suppose you have a point.  What do we need to do?

Arya: Gendry is being kept in a storehouse with two guards. All we need to do is kill them.

And so they sneak back to the village and try to make their way to the storehouse. But then a crow lands on Hot Pie. 

Hot Pie: AGH! CROW!

Crow: Corn?

Guard: HEY! What the hell was that?

Hot Pie immediately jumps up and reveals himself. 

Hot Pie: I YIELD! I YIELD!

Arya: Damnit, Hot Pie!

Arya jumps up too, but she starts swinging Needle and trying to take the guards out. She's quickly surrounded though, and the soldiers beat her and take Needle away.

Some Guy Named Polliver: This little sword looks cool. I think I'll keep it.

She's forced to her knees and brought in front of their leader...

The Mountain that Rides, Ser Gregor Clegane: Well, well, well. What do we have here?

Hot Pie: I yield! We'll tell you everything! There are two more of us. A boy and a girl... not far from here!

The Mountain: Lead us there. Now.

And so Hot Pie marches them back to Lommy and Weasel.  But when they get there, Weasel is gone.

Lommy: I YIELD!

The Mountain: I thought there were supposed to be two of you.

Lommy: Oh, that girl ran away when she heard footsteps. It's just me.

The Mountain: Tell me where Beric Dondarrion is, boy.

Lommy: I literally have no idea who that is.

Guard: This is a waste of time. These kids don't know anything more about Beric than those villagers did.

Rafford, a Spearman: Yeah. And what about you boy. Can you walk?

Lommy: No. My leg is injured. You're going to have to carry me.

Rafford: Hahaha. Oh really?

Rafford drives his spear through Lommy's throat, killing him instantly. 

Arya: Yikes. I am going to have serious emotional scars for life from these last two chapters. 

ACoK 18: Sansa II

Sansa is in her bed when she feels something under her pillow. 

Sansa: Oh crap! It's a note that tells me to have s secret meeting in the godswood tonight if I want to go home. I wonder if some true and noble knight like the ones from the songs will save me. Or maybe this is some elaborate trap by Joffrey to try to catch me, just to prove my disloyalty so that he can execute me too.

Suddenly, her maid walks in and Sansa hides the note. She doesn't trust any of these people, knowing that they are Lannister spies that likely report back on her. 

Maid: Time for your bath!

Sansa: Man, these books are oddly obsessed with bathing underage girls.

When the maid leaves, Sansa takes the note to the fireplace and burns it. Then she wishes she had all her old Stark "friends" back again like Septa Mordane, Jeyne Poole, and Arya. I say "friends" in quotation marks because Sansa didn't actually like any of them because she's a shallow, self-serving bitch.

Sansa: HEY!

Sansa thinks about sneaking out to go to the godswood, but she knows she's being watched. Out the window, she sees Kingsguard member Preston Greenfield, who just might be the least memorable and important of all the Kingsguard. 

But then all of a sudden there is shouting. Sansa looks out the window again and sees Greenfield and all the other guards running away.

Sansa: A distraction! Now is my chance!

Surprisingly, rather than sitting around to mope and do nothing, Sansa actually slides a knife under her dress and runs out of her room and goes to the godswood. 

The godswood is quiet and spooky. Sansa doesn't even like these Stark tree gods. She likes her mom's boring seven gods more interesting because it's all vapid shit about incense, gems and rainbows.

Dontos Hollard: Ah, I feared you wouldn't come, Lady Sansa.

Sansa: What the hell?! DONTOS? The ugly, drunk knight whose life I saved from Joffrey by saying that you should become his fool rather than be executed?

Dontos: Yes, it is me! I am the one saving you!

Sansa: Gross. Are you drunk? I smell it on your breath.

Dontos: Yes. I'm pretty much always drunk.

Sansa pulls out her knife and points it at him. 

Sansa: Who sent you? Is this another trick by Joffrey?

Dontos: Nobody sent me! I want to help you, just like Florian saved Jonquil.

Sansa: Hrm. I am a vapid girl who loves those old stories and poems.  And one of my favorites is about Florian, a nobleman who was both a knight and a homely fool. He spotted Jonquil bathing nude and fell in love with her. Again... pretty creepy. But then he did heroic acts to win her over. The parallels between this tale and our own current situation - an unattractive knight that  is also a fool who is offering to perform brave deeds to save a beautiful girl - are uncanny.

Dontos: Wow, you just called yourself beautiful? Full of yourself, are you?

Sansa: Huh?

Dontos: What I'm trying to say is... let me be your Florian! Let me save you!

Sansa: How?!

Dontos: Getting you out of the castle will be the hardest part. After that, it's pretty easy. I'll have a ship ready to take you home. Look, I can't share specifics about the plan with you now. But rest assured, there is a plan. I didn't have the courage to save your father, but I swear to these old gods that I will save you!

Sansa: Okay. So are you going to send me another note to give me an update on your plan?

Dontos: No, that will be too dangerous. Simply meet me here.

Sansa: When?

Dontos: Just come here all the time and eventually you'll run into me again. Nowhere else is safe.

Sansa: Uh... sounds like a crappy plan. But sure.

Dontos: Now kiss me on the cheek as we depart.

Sansa: Nasty.

Sansa leaves and tries to sneak back to her lodging undetected. But she's not very good at that. 

The Hound: Hey there, pretty bird! What are you doing?

Sansa: Uh. Nothing. I was just out at the godswood, praying for my father's soul and for the king's health.

Hound: Hahaha, oh man. I am not drunk enough to believe that story. Tell me a better story. Tell me one of those old stories about maids and knights.  Do you like knights, little girl?

Sansa: Are you coming on to me, burnface? Just how drunk are you?

Hound: Why don't I take you back to your bedchamber and you see how drunk I am?

The Hound then stumbles over though. So he was obviously pretty drunk. Sansa goes back to her bedchamber, with the Hound escorting her.  They run into Boros Blount, another fairly useless member of the Kingsguard. 

Boros: HEY! Why are you not in your bedchamber?

Sansa: I was praying in the godswood.

Boros: Okay, I'll buy it. Go to bed!

Hound: Please, how can anyone sleep with all this racket going on? What's that noise?

Boros: Some people having a loud wedding feast. It's okay, King Joffrey ordered us all to go brutally murder them for being commoners.

Hound: Wow, what a brave boy. I wonder if he'll be that brave when he has to fight this girl's brother, Robb.

And so they go back to Sansa's chamber and there is more bullshit about why the Hound lets people call him that name, and the Hound continuing to demand the girl sing a pretty song to him. Whatever. I'm not going to spend that much time describing a Sansa chapter. 

ACoK 17: Tyrion IV

Tyrion meets with Grand Maester Pycelle at breakfast time. 

Tyrion: Oh, hey Pycelle. I've got some secret letters here for you to send off to Prince Doran Martell.

Pycelle: Ah, I better do that RIGHT AWAY! With Renly's army on the march, the fate of the kingdom is more important.

Tyrion: And whatever you do, make sure to NOT open this secret letter and report its content back to Cersei. Okay?

Pycelle: I promise!

Pycelle takes the letter and walks away.  As Pycelle is gone, Tyrion eats breakfast and thinks about dumb shit like the meaning behind the different chain links in Pycelle's Maester chain.  He also takes the time to look at Pycelle's cabinet of potions, which include poisons. Very interesting "coincidence," considering that Jon Arryn was poisoned.

Eventually, Pycelle hobbles back to breakfast. 

Pycelle: The ravens are sent, Lord Tyrion.

Tyrion: Excellent. Anyway... ONE!

Tyrion gets up and walks away. 

Pycelle: One? ONE? What the hell does that mean? Is he talking about the Metallica song?

The Hand of the King then meets up with Bronn. 

Bronn: Hey Tyrion, I got a bunch of people who want to meet you to discuss Hand of the King shit. Lady Tanda Stokeworth wants to have dinner with you.

Tyrion: Oh great, she probably wants me to marry her fat daughter, Lollys. No thanks. Who else?

Bronn: There is a banker from Braavos who wants to meet with you about repaying a loan to the Iron Bank.

Tyrion: Is this particular banker played by acclaimed actor, comedian, screenwriter and novelist Mark Gatiss?

Bronn: I'm unsure, Tycho Nestoris isn't formally introduced until A Dance with Dragons. I mean it's possible this could be the same guy.

Tyrion: Send him to Littlefinger, I don't deal with that money stuff. Next issue, please.

Bronn: Some River lord is here, asking for reparations for all his lands that the Lannister armies burned down.

Tyrion: Hrm. Bold that he'd show up here. Although the fact that he has showed up at all indicates that he's willing to be loyal to the crown rather than to the Starks. A river lord on our side is a good thing. Make sure he gets a good waterview room on a high floor at the Westin Kings Landing and tell him I'll have time to meet tomorrow. NEXT!

Bronn: A number of food merchants are here, complaining that mobs have been stealing from them. They want protection.

Tyrion: That's an issue for the gold cloaks to deal with.

Bronn: The food merchants say that the gold cloaks were part of the mobs stealing from them. The merchants demand to see the king.

Tyrion: Ah. Well then they are stupider than I thought. Joffrey will probably have them whipped for complaining. Is there anything else you have for me, Bronn?

Bronn: Yes, some dude from the Night's Watch showed up with a rotten hand. His name is Alliser Thorne.

Tyrion: I met him when I was up on the wall. I hated that guy. Ugh. Whatever, pencil him onto my calendar for a few days from now.

Bronn: And put him up in the Westin Kings Landing as well?

Tyrion: Absolutely not. EconoLodge. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the Tower of the Hand.

But on the way to his tower, he runs into his dear sister, Cersei. 

Tyrion: Dafuq you doing out here by the main gate? I didn't think you EVER left the Red Keep.

Cersei: I'm checking the defenses of this city, since Renly's army is gathering in the Stormlands. He could be here by the next full moon! Someone has got to check on stuff like this, since you're doing NOTHING.

Tyrion: Whatever bitch. And no way Renly will be here that fast. Haven't you been paying attention to his pace? He stops at every single castle on the road to feast and have tournaments.  He's not planning to go to war any time soon.

Cersei: He has 100,000 men!

Tyrion: Yeah, I'm sure that number is inflated like Trump's inauguration crowd.

Cersei: THEY'RE GOING TO ATTACK US! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?!

Tyrion: Geez you're paranoid. Look, Renly has a bunch of other problems to worry about beyond King's Landing. There is Stannis. There are the Lannister armies. There are the Starks. I say we  take the same strategy that Renly is taking. Watch and wait to see how things develop. If Robb defeats our father, the south will fall into Renly's hands and there is nothing we can really do about it. But if father defeats Robb, Renly will probably lead an attack the weakened Lannister armies.

Cersei: NO! Daddy needs to bring his army here to protect us! Order him to do so!

Tyrion: Nah. He'd just ignore any orders.

Cersei: UGH. You're so useless. I wish Cat Stark still had you in her custody rather than Jaime. Jaime is worth a hundred yous!

Tyrion: Well, you better get working on that cloning machine to make 99 more of me, if you want  to trade 100 mes to Cat for Jaime.

Cersei stares angrily and storms off.  Tyrion continues to his apartments, only to find goddamn Littlefinger waiting for him there. 

Tyrion: Damnit, Baelish. What are you doing here?

Littlefinger: Just staring out your window and watching King Joffrey. He's out there in the bailey. Someone got him some new pet rabbits, so he's using a crossbow on them to kill them all. Or at least he's trying to. He sucks though. Hard. The rabbits are totally winning this battle.

Tyrion: Okay. I can see you're staring outside my window, dipshit. I specifically mean why are you in my apartment?

Littlefinger: Does it matter? I generally just show up to places to move plots forward with snippy, sinister dialogue.

Tyrion: Well, you might as well stay and make yourself comfortable. Have a drink.

Littlefinger: No thanks. I know what happens when people drink with you like Janos Slynt. They get chained up and shipped to the Wall.

Tyrion: Oh, and nice outfit by the way. I notice that you have a Valyrian steel dagger.

Littlefinger: Erm... uhh... yes. It... is... umm... here, you can have it. It's yours.

Tyrion: Is it? I thought it was ALREADY MINE?

Littlefinger: ...

Tyrion: ...

Littlefinger: ...

Tyrion: Anyway, I have a question for you. How close are you  to those Tully girls, Cat and Lysa?

Littlefinger: Oh, I popped both their cherries when we were teenagers. I am a playa.

Tyrion: Fuckin' liar. Anyway, I mean to make them an offer. But if the offer comes from me they likely won't accept it. If it comes from you, they just might trust it more.

Littlefinger: Ah, and what is this offer?

Tyrion: Why, I'd be willing to give them Jon Arryn's REAL KILLER in ret--

Littlefinger: --What? Me?

Tyrion: Huh?

Littlefinger: What?

Tyrion: You just said it was you.

Littlefinger: No I didn't.

Tyrion: Yes you did.

Littlefinger: Huh?

Tyrion: Anyway, let me continue. I'll give them Jon Arryn's real killer in return for peace. Lysa should side with Joffrey and call him the true king. And as a bonus to side with us, I'll also have the Vale mountain clans back off their attacks, name her son the Warden of the East, and marry her son to Princess Myrcella.

Littlefinger: Interesting offer. But who exactly is this killer you speak of?

Tyrion: Oh, that's not part of the message to Lysa. She only gets to know AFTER she makes peace.

Littlefinger: Well, you can tell me at least.

Tyrion: Nah.

Littlefinger: And what does Queen Cersei think of this plan?

Tyrion: I haven't told her shit. I want you to send a raven to Lysa, proposing these things. And whatever you do, make sure to NOT to report the content back to Cersei. Okay?

Littlefinger: Of course. And do I get any reward for my part in this plot?

Tyrion: Sure. Whatever. I'll give you Harrenhal or something. Slynt doesn't need it anymore. Also, TWO!

Littlefinger: Huh? Two? What does that mean, Tyrion? Who are you talking to? Was that a Shakespearean aside to the audience?

Tyrion then leaves and goes to his bedchamber to await Varys. Which is a pretty disturbing sentence when phrased that way.  Varys comes sooner than Tyrion thought. Which is ALSO a pretty disturbing sentence when phrased that way. 

Galt: Lord Hand, Varys has arrived.

Tyrion: Galt? Who is Galt?

Galt: Well, technically my full name is "John Galt," and as to the question of who I am, I am a libertarian philosopher and inventor. I believe in the power and glory of the human mind, and the right of the individual to use their mind solely for themselves. I believe society has been twisted by oppressive bureaucratic functionaries in order to promote a culture that embraces mediocrity in the name of "egalitarianism" and "liberalism." I think tha--

Tyrion then orders Macho Man Randy Savage to kill Galt with an atomic elbow drop. Galt will never be seen again. 

Varys: Tyrion, it's a pleasure! Why did you wish to see me?

Tyrion: You know why. Your little birds seem to know everything going on around here.

Varys: Ah, true. I have heard that you gave a letter to Maester Pycelle and wouldn't let him open it up and see the content. How wicked of you to taunt him with a secret like that!

Tyrion: Hey, speaking of secrets... I've  got one for you.

Varys: Is it that thing about Dorne?  Because my birds have told me about that already. But then again, it's pretty obvious. We need Dorne on our side so they do not join another faction.

Tyrion: Yes, I plan to offer Tommen to Prince Doran in a marriage alliance. Tommen can marry that Arianne girl of his.

Varys: Hrm, but my birds tell me that you already offered Myrcella to Lysa Arryn. Surely Cersei would never agree to BOTH Tommen and Myrcella being sent away?

Tyrion: What Cersei doesn't know won't hurt her. Am I right? I want you to send a raven to Prince Doran, proposing these things. And whatever you do, make sure to NOT to report the content back to Cersei. Okay?

Varys: Of course, Lord Hand.

Tyrion: THREE!

Varys: Huh? Three? What are you talking about?