ASoS 19: Tyrion III

The Small Council assembles in the chamber room. At  the table are Tyrion, Cersei, Varys, Lord Tyrell, Kevan Lannister, the new High Septon, the newly re-installed Pycelle, and a bunch of people Tyrion doesn’t recognize. The king’s seat is, as usual, empty.  Lord Tywin walks up to the seat and sits down in it like a boss.

Tywin: It’s good to be the Hand.

Pycelle: Uh, Tyrion. You’re in my seat.

Tyrion: Eat a bag of dicks, Pycelle. A whole bag.

Kevan: Watch your mouth, nephew. Anyway, we have some business to discuss. First of all – the health of my son, Lancel. He is not doing well. He was badly injured in the battles to defend King’s Landing. He should have recovered by now, but for some reason he remains sick.

Cersei: Yes. Terrible. What an odd… coincidence. That he’s still sick, I mean. It would be a shame if he died. If he died and wasn’t able to tell anyone about the things he knows about. Terrible.

Varys: In other news, we recently had a very successful attack on the Boy Wolf’s forces.

Tywin: Yes, the child must soon return north to defend Winterfell. He will not be able to claim his home back from the ironmen or he will be seen as no king at all. That will leave Riverrun undefended and ready to attack.

Kevan: Balon Greyjoy has sent us a letter, proposing an alliance.

Mace Tyrell:  We should agree to this alliance. Let him have the north and he will take care of our Stark problem.

Tywin: An alliance? I think not. What good would that do us?  He is already doing our work for us… and for free. He’s fighting with the Starks. We have given him nothing for this. Let him keep doing what he is doing. Let them all battle among themselves. Then we will swoop in after and fight what remains.

Tyrion: Yeah, like the SPECTRE fighting fish thing.

Cersei: What? I don’t follow?

Tyrion: The analogy that SPECTRE uses for who they are. In one of those early James Bond movies. I forget which one. From Russia with Love, I think.  Blofeld vaguely explains the philosophy and motives behind SPECTRE, and he uses the Cold War as an analogy. The US and Russians are two fish fighting. Let the two fight until one kills the other. Then the survivor will be weak and injured. But you’re still healthy. Then you go in and kill the exhausted winner. Something like that.

Pycelle: I was in a James Bond movie once.

Cersei: Oh, uhh… okay, Tyrion.

Tywin: Something like that, son.  But more importantly, it buys us more time to consider better offers.

Tyrion: Better offers? Do you have something in mind, father?

Tywin: No. I’m just going to be cryptic like that. So that later in the book we can drop some sort of new, secret alliance that nobody saw coming.

Pycelle: What? Like the Boltons or something?

Tywin: *sigh*

Tyrion: See, this is why nobody likes you, Pycelle. You just go and destroy all that dramatic momentum with shit like that.

Cersei: We can’t forget about Lysa Arryn.

Tyrell: I hate those Arryn bitches. They are, like, my arch enemy! Lysa hasn’t sworn fealty to King Joffrey. We should march on her and fight her now!

Tywin: No, I have other plans for Lysa Arryn. I am sending Littlefinger to the Vale to woo and wed Lysa. It should be easy. After all, Littlefinger has already blasted that before. He’s been all up in there.

Tyrion: Hrm. Before a match to Littlefinger wouldn’t make sense because he was a nobody. But now that he’s the Lord of Harrenhal, it makes PERFECT sense for him to wed Lysa. Almost as if his request for Harrenhal was well-planned out for ages as part of some sort of grand masterplan between him and Lysa that goes back to the VERY BEGINNING OF THE BOOK SERIES.

Cersei: *rolls eyes at Tyrion*

Tyrion: And just what are we going to do about the Master of Coin position if Littlefinger leaves?

Tywin: Well, that explains why you’re in the room, Tyrion.

Tyrion: Huh?

Tywin: I mean you’re not Hand of the King anymore. You really have no role on this Small Council anymore. Unless…

Tyrion: Wait, you’re going to make ME the master of coin? Don’t you remember anything about my math skills, dad?  I flunked out of Algebra in high school. I took an economics class as an requirement in college for my B.S. and did so poorly in it that I had to become a liberal arts major.

Tywin: Well, it’s going to be you. Littlefinger leaves tomorrow.

Tyrion: Didn’t he JUST get back to King’s Landing?

Tywin: Next up… wedding arrangements for my son and Margaery.

Pycelle: Ah yes, I hear news that Prince Doran Martell and three hundred Dornishmen will be arriving in time for the ceremony.

Tyrell: UGH! Doran Martell?! I HATE THE MARTELLS! Those guys are my arch enemies! No way! Why did we invite them?

Kevan: Jesus Christ, Mace. How many arch enemies do you have? Don’t you get along with anyone?

Tywin: Lord Tyrell, it is best you make peace with Doran ASAP. He is coming at my invitation. And when he arrives, he will have a seat on the Small Council.

Tyrell: WHAT?!

Tywin: I have also promised him the justice that King Robert denied him for the murder of his sister, Elia, and her children.

Everyone in the room goes silent at that remark. Because it’s pretty much an established and well-known fact that Elia and her Targaryen children (Rhaenys and Aegon) were murdered by the Mountain on the orders of Tywin Lannister himself.
Tyrion: Uhm… dad… are you sure you’ve though this one through?

Tywin: Moving on… the lands that we’ve recently claimed from those houses in rebellion. We need to divvy those up.

Varys: Oh, but before we discuss that… can we talk about this crazy rumor I’ve heard from my spies in Essos? Apparently, a three-headed dragon has hatched in Qarth. Or something like that. Maybe it’s three dragons with one head each. They say that—

Tywin: --OH MY GOD, nobody cares. Varys, surely that’s FAKE NEWS and we have nothing to worry about related to dragons in Essos.

They then move on to discuss other matters of importance: The gold cloaks who deserted their posts when Stannis’s forces were attacking.
Tyrion: We should send them to the Wall.

Twyin: What? To help defend the North from Wildlings? Please, the Mance Rayder and the Wildlings are practically our allies if they’re attacking the north. Let’s just bust all their knees apart with hammers and throw them in the streets to be beggars. That should serve as a good warning for what happens to turncloaks. Okay, I think our business here is done. Everybody leave!

Everybody gets up to leave.

Tywin: --UNLESS your last name is “Lannister.”

Tyrion: Awww. Damnit.

Tyrion, Cersei and Kevan all stay. Everyone else departs.

Tyrion: So what? Now we’re doing one of those “everyone else is gone so we can talk freely about our REAL plan” scenes? Good. Because I have some stuff that I didn’t want to share in that open forum. Namely about Littlefinger. We can’t trust that guy.

Kevan: Why? He’s served us well. He’s even brought us news about a plot by the Tyrells to sneak Sansa out of the city and marry her to Willas, the heir to Highgarden.

Cersei: WHAT?! Those damn Tyrells! How dare they plot behind our backs like that.

Tywin: Indeed. I will not allow it. The Tyrells and Starks together? No way, Jose! And so, to prevent that, I will arrange a marriage between Willas and Cersei.

Cersei: Uhm… what?

Tywin: You heard me, daughter.

Cersei: NO. FUCKING. WAY.

Tywin: You will do as I command.

Cersei stands up, throws both middle fingers in her father’s face, and storms out of the room.

Tyrion: Hahaha, that was pretty hilarious. Better not tell Jaime about his plan or he’ll kill Willas. You know what I mean.

Tywin: I don’t see what you’re laughing about, son. It’s about time you stop your filthy, whoring ways and get married too. And by that I mean to Sansa Stark.

Tyrion: Say what now?

Tywin: You heard me. Marrying her to the Lannisters made sense when we wanted to marry her to Joffrey, and it makes just as much sense still. When the boy wolf is dead and defeated, it will be your and her heirs that rule Winterfell.

Tyrion: I don’t think the Tyrells are going to go for this plan.

Tywin: They won’t have a choice in the matter. I plan for you and Sansa to be married soon. Before the Tyrells can even announce their plans for Willas and Sansa. Then they will have no cause to protest.

Tyrion: Sansa is just a child. I can’t marry her.

Tywin: Yes, a child who has had her first blood.

Kevan: And she’s got some pretty nice ta-ta’s developing.

Tyrion: Gross. You pervert.

Kevan: You’re the one who’s going to marry her. So you’re the real pervert.

Tyrion: NOT BY CHOICE! I’d much rather have a woman who actually WANTS me.

Tywin: Hahahaha, oh man… TOO RICH, Tyrion. Too rich. Do you think those whores you sleep with ACTUALLY want you?

Tyrion: Look, I’m just saying this doesn’t make sense. I get that you want the Lannisters to have a solid claim to the North. But if so… why not take that proposed deal with the Greyjoys? The Greyjoys are the ones who actually hold the North now. Why not marry me to that Greyjoy daughter? What’s her name? Yara or something?

Tywin: Asha. Where the hell did you get “Yara” from?

Tyrion: *shrug* Anyway, I’m just saying.

Tywin: The Greyjoys might hold Winterfell for now. But they will not hold it for long. Mwahahaha.

Tyrion: Uh oh. You’re doing that cryptic “you know something but you’re not telling anyone else” thing again.

Tywin: I am.

Tyrion: And any claim my children with Sansa might have to Winterfell depend on us actually defeating Robb Stark, which isn’t guaranteed. And any children Robb Stark has will also come in line ahead of ours. Isn’t he supposed to be engaged to some Frey girl or something like that?

Tywin: About that… he has broken his oath to marry the Frey girl. He has taken up with some Westerling instead.

Tyrion: WHAT?! Why would he do that? That is STUPID AS FUCK.

Tywin: I know, right?

Tyrion: I’m surprised you’re taking this so well, dad. The Westerlings are sworn to House Lannister. That type of betrayal is usually something that would send you into a fury.

Tywin: Yes. Well. I have a plan.

Tywin then gives a slight smirk.

Tyrion: A smile? A SMILE? You never smile, dad! Oh shit! Things are on like Donkey Kong.

ASoS 18: Samwell I

The greatest and most handsome character of all time, Samwell Tarly, easily walks through the snow and is under no physical duress at all. He’s not a whiny little bitch that wants to give up and die. No. He’s not like that at all.

Sam: Hahaha, because I’m the narrator I get to change how this story goes and makes myself look better.

The amazing and super-strong Samwell flexes his handsome huge muscles and---

---WAIT. NO. STOP. This just isn’t right! Besides. It’s not super-duper CONFIRMED that Sam is the narrator of the Song of Ice and Fire. That’s just a theory. So let’s just go back to a generic, boring “neutral” narration.
Sam: Boo.

So… *ahem*…

Sam, that whiny, fat slob was somehow able to survive the attack by the Wights in the prologue.
He now stumbles through the snow, crying and wanting to give up. He knows that if he stops he’s going to die.

Sam: Whatever. I’d rather die than engage in more physical activity.

Sam falls down in the snow to die.

As he lay in the snow, ready to meet his maker… he decides to… yes… that’s right… do an in media res chapter where he FLASHES BACK to fill in the narrative holes between the prologue and now…

Sam: Ugh. In media res with a flashback again? Is this GRRM’s only narrative trick? Does he know how to write chapters any other way? Why not just start from the chronological beginning and then work your way forward?

Because reasons.

Escaping the Fist of the First Men, Sam lost his sword. But he still holds on the the dragonglass dagger that Jon gave him.

Sam: Oh right. GRRM does have other narrative tricks. That one is called FORESHADOWING. I’m glad I saved that dagger. As well as this bag of peanuts I got from a baseball game. Mmm. Delicious, salty peanuts.

Mormont: Sam, release the Ravens! Send word to Castle Black! We’ve been attacked by Wights!

Sam: Okay, sure.

Sam releases the ravens. All of them.

Mormont: Wait… did you write the notes about being attacked by the wights?

Sam: Oh. Oh yeah. Right. I guess I was supposed to attach the note to the ravens BEFORE I released them. Huh? Yeah. I forgot to do that. LOOK, I’M UNDER A LOT OF STRESS.

Sam is woken from his flashback by someone kicking him.

Grenn: Get out of the snow, you far piece of shit. You’ll die if you stay there.

Sam: Yeah. Whatever. Just let me die.

Grenn tries to pick him up. But Sam is too fat.
Grenn: Damnit. If only there was some sort of gigantic, strong character who had just been conveniently introduced in the prologue despite never being mentioned as a member of the Night’s Watch before. He’d be able to lift Sam up.

Small Paul: Hi there! I’m Small Paul! One of the conspirators that was trying to help Chett (Duke) kill Lord Mormont and escape.

Grenn: Hey! You! Small Paul! Help lift Sam up.

Small Paul: Okay.

He lifts Sam up.

Sam: No! Stop! I just want to die.

Grenn: Shut up and just fill up this chapter by flashbacking again.

Sam: Okay.

Sam flashbacks again.

Sam remembers seeing a wight twist a man’s head off. He remembers seeing an undead zombie bear with the wights. He remembers finding a horse and joining Dolorous Edd and some others.

Edd: Yeah. I’m in this chapter finally. Huzzah!

Sam: Why are you being so casual. There is an UNDEAD BEAR roaming around here.

Mormont: Smallwood!

Thoren Smallwood: What’s up, Lord Commander?

Mormont: Call in the remaining men. We need to do a tactical retreat down the south slope.

Thoren: Right away, sir. I’ll just go ahead and—AGHHHH!!!!!!!

That undead zombie bear walks up and tears Thoren Smallwood’s head off and eats it.

Sam: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!! Did I not just warn everyone that there was a fucking UNDEAD BEAR?

Now all realizing the seriousness of the situation, everyone on horse runs away as fast as they can. Not everyone is on a horse though. So the people on horses just ride over those slowpokes in the front that don’t have horses.

Sam, Edd, Mormont, and Other Important Characters: *ride horses*

Irrelevant Extras: AGHHH!!!! *are casually trampled to death by main characters*

Sam rides as fast as he can, only stopping once they reach the cover of some trees.
Sam: *whew*, that was a close o—

Suddenly, one of the other brothers of the Night’s Watch knocks Sam off his horse and steals it. He rides off.  Now Sam has to walk the rest of the way.

Sam: And after that, I can’t remember anything else. It’s all sort of a haze. Something about giant ice spiders, I think.

Grenn: Whoa, ICE SPIDERS? Why aren’t we lingering on this plot point more? I want to explore this issue.

Small Paul: Ugh. Too heavy.

Small Paul drops Sam in the snow. He just can’t anymore. He just can’t.

Grenn: Well, what are we going to do now?  Just leave Sam to die?

Small Paul: Maybe.

Other: Yeah, that’s a good idea. Leave him right there.

Grenn: Hrm. Perhaps. I mean I’m not sure how we’re going to... wait… what? AN OTHER? AGHHHH!!!!!!!! WHITE WALKER! WHITE WALKER!!!!

Grenn and Small Paul run around in comic circles, given the arrival of this Other, riding on his disemboweled horse.  This is scary enough so even Sam’s fat ass gets up and starts running.

Sam: Other! OTHER! OTHER! AGHHH!!!!

The other pulls out his sword and stabs Small Paul.

Small Paul: UGHH! Tell my mother… all I ever wanted… was a pet raven… to love. *dies*

As Paul falls over dead, his large body pulls the sword away from the Other.

Grenn: Look! His sword’s gone! He’s defenseless. Now’s are chance!

Sam: Be brave, Sam! Be brave!

Sam pulls out his dragonglass dagger, which was next to his bag of delicious, salted baseball game peanuts, and starts screaming like a girl while blindly slashing it at the Other.

Other: OW! OW! HEY! OW! STOP CUTTING ME! That really hurts and… uhm… wait… that really stings, man. Hey. HEY! Is that a peanut shell I see on the side of the dragonglass dagger?

Sam: Yes.

Other: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. I’m allergic to peanuts!

The White Walker / Other then explodes.

Grenn: HOLY SHIT. That was amazing, Sam.

Grenn picks up the dagger, which now lays in a steaming pile of ash where the Other used to be.

Sam: Ahahahaha. WOW. That was insane. I can’t believe I killed an Other *vomits everywhere now that the adrenaline is fading*

Grenn: Come on, we need to go find Mormont.

ASoS 17: Arya III

Harwin leads Arya, Gendry and a party of bandits including Lem (aka the Brotherhood without Banners) southward.
Arya: HEY WAIT! We’re going south? That’s the wrong way. Riverrun is North!

Gendry: Whatever. We’re probably just using some sort of secret way that only these bandits know.

Arya: Hey. Where is Hot Pie?

Gendry: Oh, he’s been written out of the story. He’s gone now. He stayed behind at the Inn of the Kneeling Man to make food there. Presumably hot pies.

Arya: Oh, wow. That was a rather abrupt character departure for somone who has been with us for the last two books. And Harwin… I can’t remember whether I told you or not… I watched your father die.

Harwin: Yeah, you weren’t that specific. But I figured.

Arya: So what’s been up with you?

Harwin: Well, I now travel with Lord Beric Dondarrion. We were ambushed at the Mummer’s Ford by the Mountain. Lord Beric was killed. But then he got better.

Arya: Wait. What? Repeat that agai—

Harwin: --Anyway, it was a great battle against the Mountain’s men. And we promised that for every one of our men killed, we would avenge them tenfold.

Arya: Are you sure you don’t mean “Avenged Sevenfold?”

Harwin: No, why?

Arya: Just asking.

Harwin: Anyway, when we heard that King Robert died… and then after that Lord Stark… Lord Beric decided that we would keep on fighting against the Lannister forces. We made a vow to defend the countryside and prevent the pillaging. But with Robert dead and Joffrey on the throne – that now made us outlaws rather than men of the King as we had been with Robert. Still, we wear that new status as a badge of honor.

Arya: Yeah, you’re an honorable gang of outlaws that are just trying to do the right thing, huh? Sort of like Robin Hood and his men.

Harwin: Yeah, sure, I guess. Sort of. 

That evening as they ride further South, they pass a village.
Villager: Oh, hey there Harwin!

Harwin: Sup?

Villager: Did you hear? Some men from Riverrun came through here recently. They were looking for the Kingslayer. Apparently he escaped for something.

Lem: Oh man. Jaime Lannister has escaped? We’ve got to make sure Thoros knows about this. And Beric would LOVE to be the guy to capture the Kingslayer. We could hang him. That would be so sweet.

The next morning, after stopping to rest for the night, they head out again. Once more, they go south.

Arya: WHAT THE HELL?! This is no secret way to Riverrun! I told you guys yesterday… this is the wrong way! Look at the side of the trees that the moss is growing!

Lem: Bitch, we’re not going to Riverrun.

Arya: Huh? But I’m Arya Stark! And Harwin serves the Starks! You’ve got to do what I say!

Harwin: Did you not pay attention to anything I said? I don’t serve the Starks now. I serve Beric.

Arya: THIS SUCKS! Hey you! Yeah, YOU! New character!

Guy: Me?

Arya: Yeah, you. What’s your name?

Guy: Greenbeard.

Arya: Take me to Riverrun. I’ll give you a reward.

Greenbeard: Nah. I’m taking you to Beric. He’ll know what to do with you.

Arya: Shiiiiiiit!

Tom o’ Sevens: Don’ worry, Arya. Beric will treat you well. He’ll even likely send you back to your mother, just like you want. But he’s the one who needs to make the decision. Not us.

Anguy: Yeah. He makes the decisions about all our captives.

Arya: Captive? CAPTIVE?! THE HELL I AM!

Arya then darts and makes a run for it. Her horse breaks away and charges off.

Arya: Hahaha, suckers! EAT MY DUST!

The outlaws give chase but Arya’s too fast. She escapes to freedom and--- hahaha, no. Just kidding. They easily catch her.
Harwin: Well, that was a pretty good effort, Arya. You really are your father’s daughter, huh? Too bad he’s dead and I serve the Lightning Lord now.

Arya: Lightning Lord?

Harwin: Yeah, that’s Lord Beric’s nickname.

Arya: Really? Because it sort of sounds like a shitty comic book villain.

Harwin: I guess it does. A little.

Arya: Like a B-Team villain to a B-Team superhero.  Like someone from The Flash’s Rogue’s Gallery.

Harwin: No, I get it. You don’t have to explain further. I agree completely.

Arya: What the hell is wrong with you, man? I know my father is dead. But now you should be serving my brother, Robb. He’s the King in the North!

Harwin: I mean no harm to your brother. But why should I fight for him? He already has thousands of men who fight for him. He has an army. But who fights for the little people? Who fights for these smallfolk in the countryside? Their villages have been burned down. Their men murdered. Their women raped. Their children starved. Us. That’s who fights for them! The Brotherhood without Banners! Because no one else will.  Now are you going to try to escape again? Because if so, I’m going to tie your annoying ass up.

Arya: Ugh. I guess not. For now.

Harwin: What was that last bit?

Arya: Nothing. I said nothing.

ASoS 16: Sansa II

Sansa: Oh hey look, Cersei has commissioned a new, beautiful gown for me because I’ve outgrown my old clothes.

Chris Hansen of “To Catch a Predator”: Just to be clear, GRRM – a dirty old man – by saying "outgrown," is referring to a teenage girl developing breasts here? Just to be clear.

Sansa: That is correct.

Chris Hansen: Hrm.

Sansa: Beyond my new bosoms, I wonder what this gown is supposed to be for. It’s sooooo beautiful. This must be for the upcoming wedding! Cersei must want me to have a nice gown to wear as a guest to Joffrey and Margaery’s wedding. Although it is odd that the gown is white. Shouldn’t the bride’s gown be white? I’m just a guest at the wedding. That doesn’t make sense. Anyway, weird. Cersei is so evil and stuff. Why would she ever do anything kind for me? I think maybe Margaery Tyrell must be behind this somehow. Margaery is the best! I can’t wait until the Tyrells save me and take me away to Highgarden. I’ll be so glad to get out of Kings Landing.

Later, Sansa goes hawking with Margaery.

Sansa: Jewelry! Authentic jewelry for sale! Who wants to buy some totally real jewelry here from my shady stand in the middle of this market? 10 crowns for these authentic diamonds! For you… 8! 8 crowns! A special deal. Limited time only! I’m practically losing money on this deal!

Margaery: No, not hawking like “hawking goods” at a street market. The other type of hawking.

Sansa: Oh. Right. Right. *ahem*… For perturbations of stationary black holes, the change of energy is related to change of area, angular momentum, and electric charge by dE = (k / 8π) dA + ΩdJ + ΦdQ, wherein E is energy, k is the horizon area, J is the angular momentum, Φ is the electrostatic potential, and Q is the electric charge.

Margaery: What? You lost me there.

Sansa: It’s the first law of black hole mechanics, analogous to the laws of thermodynamics.

Margaery: I’m still not following.

Sansa: You know, like Steven Hawking.

Margaery: Ah, I see. No. Wrong “hawking” still. I’m simply referring to us going out and hunting animals with trained hawks. You know. Like falconry and stuff.

Sansa: Oh. Gross. Does using birds of prey to kill baby animals really seem like something that my character would be interested in doing?

Margaery: I suppose not, my dear sister.

Sansa: OMG, you called me SISTER! You’re the best, Margaery! I wish you were my real sister instead of Arya. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you now. I beg you not to marry Joffrey! He’s a cruel monster! He’ll beat you!

Margaery: Oh, don’t worry, Sansa. My brother, Loras, will be a member of the Kingsguard. My father insisted on it. He’ll always be close by to protect me.

Sansa: Hrm. Good point. Loras is a skilled fighter and Joffrey is a punk bitch. Loras would kick his ass.  He might even become the SECOND Kingslayer if Joffrey steps out of line,

Margaery: Okay, that’s taking it a bit far.

Later that night, Sansa goes to the godswood and finds Ser Dontos.

Sansa: Oh, hey drunk clown guy who shoots off a super rape-ey vibe. Remember your plan to sneak me out of King’s Landing after Joffrey’s wedding? Well, I don’t need it anymore. The Tyrells got me hooked up. I’m going to marry Willas Tyrell and then I’ll move to Highgarden. So I don’t need you.

Dontos: WHAT?! NOOOO! You can’t do it! The Tyrells can’t be trusted! They are just Lannisters with flowers.

Sansa: Says an alcoholic clown.

Dontos: You must go through with our plan to sneak you out at the Wedding! The Tyrells don’t care about you. All they care about is your claim to Winterfell.

Dontos grabs onto her and tries to hold her. She breaks free from him and backs away.

Sansa: Well, YEAH. I’m a female in a medieval society. That’s pretty much a given.

Sansa heads back to her room and goes to bed. She knows Dontos is full of crap. Besides… Robb is the King of Winterfell. There is no way that the Tyrells could claim it through her. 

Sansa imagines life with Willas. Maybe she’ll actually grow to love him. Probably not. But maybe he looks enough like his brother Loras that she could pretend it was him. Yeah. She can just close her eyes during sex and imagine. That will work, right?

ASoS 15: Jon II

Jon is taking a look at Mance Rayder's giant army. It's pretty big. Much bigger than the Night's Watch had suspected. And it includes wooly mammoths and a bunch of giants who ride them. 

Jon looks at Ghost, who is a magical legendary giant beast. Even Ghost seems to be unnerved by these other magical, legendary, giant beasts. 

Jon: Giants. Why that reminds me of the old song about Joramun blowing the Horn of Winter to wake giants from the earth. Weird. Why do I keep talking about horns? Like that horn that I gave to Sam.

Tormund: HAHAHA! Hey you! Yeah, you! Giant!

Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg: Who, me?

Tormund: Yeah, you! FUCK YOU! Stupid giant.

Jon: Wow. That's pretty messed up. Why would you just insult a giant like that for no reason.

Tormund: Because it's sort of funny to do. I'm pretty much just a comic relief character.

Jon: One of your nicknames is Giantsbane. Is it true you killed a giant?

Tormund: Oh well, about that... I cut open this giant's stomach and I lived inside of it to keep warm.

Jon: It sound suspiciously like you're stealing that story from Empire Strikes Back.

Tormund: No. It's a legit story. And I once fucked a bear too.

Jon: Yeah. You keep telling everyone the "I fucked a bear" story. I'm not sure we want to hear that.

Tormund: Boo.

Jon: Soo...uhm... you also have a nickname that is "Horn Blower." Does that have anything to do with the Horn of Joramun?

Tormund: Why do you ask? Perhaps you're some sort of Night's Watch sleeper agent sent here to spy on us and only PRETEND to be our ally so that you could learn more about Mance's plans and specifically if we have any plan to use the Horn of Joramun to bring down the Wall?

Jon: WHAT?! NO! NO! OF COURSE NOT! I... uhm... ermm... I mean I...

Tormund: Hahahaha, just fucking with you, kid.

Jon: *whew* That was a close one.

Tormund: Hey, speaking of sticking your penis in things... is it true that you Night's Watch boys are all castrated when you join and have no dicks?

Jon: What? NO!!! We just make a vow to not have sex. They don't actually cut anything off.

Tormund: Ah, then why so you keep avoiding Ygritte?

Jon: I'm not avoiding her.

Tormund: Oh please. She's not even being subtle about how much she can't wait to "get six inches of snow." If you know what I mean.

Jon: Old joke. Everyone makes that.

Tormund: The girl is cute enough. And she wants you. Bad. Why won't you have sex with her? Is it because you're some sort of Night's Watch sleeper agent sent here to spy on us and only PRETEND to be our ally so that you could learn more about Mance's plans and specifically if we have any plan to use the Horn of Joramun to bring down the Wall? And because you're still a sworn member of the Night's Watch you're unable to break your oath to not have sex? Therefore you continue to avoid Ygritte's advanced in order to keep your vow?

Jon: WHAT?! NO! NO! OF COURSE NOT! I... uhm... ermm... I mean I...

Tormund: Hahahaha, just fucking with you, kid.

Jon: *whew* That was a close one. Again.

Tormund: Then what's the reason?

Jon: Well, you know. I'm a bastard. And it sucked growing up as a bastard. I don't want to make any more bastards and have them have just as miserable a life as me.

Tormund: What does bastard mean?

Jon: It's a child born out of wedlock. You know, unmarried parents.

Tormund: Oh. Well the concept of marriage doesn't exactly exist north of the Wall like it does south. So we don't really care about that type of stuff. So there is no shame up here.

Jon then goes all reflective. Sure these guys are "savages" but their way of life actually seems pretty cool and noble. Jon regrets the fact that he might have to assassinate Mance. Mance is the only one holding all these disparate tribes of the Wildlings together. If he dies, this army will likely fall apart without a leader.  Jon knows Mormont might also be planning to strike, despite being wildly outnumbered.

Later that night, everyone is sitting around at camp and Ygritte is singing a very subtle song. 

Ygritte: Oh I love Jon Snow and I want him to put his penis in me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Jon Snow.

Jon: Hrm, I wonder what this very subtle song is about.

Out of nowhere then, an eagle attacks Jon. 

Eagle: Ca-CAW! [Translation: I HATE YOU, JON SNOW!]

Jon: OW! WHAT THE FUCK?!

Rattleshirt: Hahahaha, hilarious. You know when you killed that warg Orell, right? But you killed him when he was warging into this Eagle's body. So now Orell is trapped inside the Eagle forever. And the eagle fucking hates you, man.

Ygritte beats the eagle off. 

Jon: Thanks Ygritte.

Ygritte: Oh, that's not the only thing I plan on beating off.

Jon: Huh? I don't follow.

Ygritte: You know nothing, Jon S--

Rattleshirt: --SNOW! Mance wants to see you.

Jon: OHTHANKGOD.

Jon gets up and follows Rattleshirt to get away from Ygritte. He's not sure how much longer he can keep his vows with Ygritte's sexy redhead self always sexually harassing him. 

Rattleshirt takes Jon to a familiar place. The Fist of the First Men. This is the last place Jon camped at with the Night's Watch before being sent out with the Halfhand on his espionage mission.  Jon sees dead bodies everywhere. His brothers of the Night's Watch. Horses. Something horrible happened here.

Jon: Oh shit. I wonder if Sam is okay. The rest of them? Meh.

Mance is there, waiting for him. 

Mance: Well, well, well Jon Snow. You said you were just a small party scouting here. And yet I find a camp set up for AN ENTIRE FUCKING ARMY. You fucking liar. I ought to kill you right now.

Rattleshirt: Oh yes. Please, please, PLEASE do that. I hate this guy.

Mance: So tell me. How many of you were there?

Jon knows that he might just die if he doesn't tell the truth. So he does. 

Jon: 300 of us.

Mance: And who led them?

Jon: Jorah Mormont.

Mance: What? Really? The old man himself?

Jon: Yes. He left Bowen Marsh in charge at Castle Black.

Mance: Hahaha. Sweet. Marsh is a fucking worthless idiot. The crows probably did us a favor by marching on us. Or TRYING TO. They woke up the dead. And there is no defense when the dead walk. Now look at this place. The Wights killed Mormont and his army. Or at least most of it, from the looks of things. And the Wall is now defended by a stupid moron who couldn't lead androids to a picnic.

Jon: I think it's ants, but--

Mance: Varamyr... find out where the Wights have gotten to. Rattleshirt... double the patrols.

Rattleshirt: This Jon Snow kid was lying to us though, Mance. We should kill him. He's still one of those Crows!

Ygritte then jumps in front of Jon. 

Ygritte: No way. He's not loyal to the Crows. He's given up his vows. I know it! You know how brothers of the Night's Watch aren't supposed to have sex, right? Well he and I have TONS of sex. Like all the time. Oral. Anal. 69. Doggy style. Cowgirl. Reverse cowgirl. The python. The crouching tiger. The snowdrop. The screwdriver. The spread eagle. The hook. The hucklebuck. The Doogie Howser. The Cleopatra. The blue elephant. The brown windmill. The Atlanta overpass. The angry dolphin. The two-buck chuck. The sandy seashell. The inverted tilt-o-whirl. The Bud Lite Lime. The Bob Backlund crossface chicken wing. The--

Mance: --How many of those are you just making right now versus being real sex positions?

Ygritte: Oh, they're all real. And I've done them all with Jon Snow. Which proves that he's left them Crows and joined us.

Mance: Is this true, Jon?

Jon: Uhh... yes.

Mance: Well, then I'll afford you one LAST chance to prove yourself. Go with Styr and Jarl in a scouting expedition beyond the Wall.

Styr: What? No!

Jarl: Yeah, forget that. Jon Snow sucks.

Mance: Well, to get across the Wall... and then when he's on the other side of it... he'll likely have to KILL his brothers of the Night's Watch and the local townspeople. If he does so, we'll know he's true.  Deeds are truer than words. If he doesn't... well... then you KILL HIM.

Jon: *GULP*

Mance then leaves. Rattleshirt looks at Jon in disgust. 

Rattleshirt: Mance might be fooled by you... but I'm not! I should kill you right now!

Ygritte: I wouldn't do that if I were you. Look behind you.

Rattleshirt turns around and sees Ghost. 

Ghost: *growl* [Translation: *growl*]

Rattleshirt: You win this round, Jon Snow. But Jarl and Styr will sort you out for the traitor you are.

Rattleshirt then leaves. Now it's just Jon and Ygritte. 

Jon: Thanks for lying for me about the sex, Ygritte. You saved my life.

Ygritte: Oh, I wasn't lying about the sex. I just didn't say WHEN we had the sex.

Jon: Huh?

Ygritte: Like Mance said, deeds are truer than words. Now take those fucking pants off.

Jon: I feel like I should join the #metoo movement.

ASoS 14: Catelyn II

Cat is still locked up in her father, Hoster's, chambers. Like she should be for that dumb shit plan of letting Jaime Lannister go. 

She hears a lot of commotion and looks outside the window. It is the army of her son - Robb Stark, the King in the North - returning to Riverrun. 

Cat: Horray! My son will definitely forgive me for the dumb shit I've done. Now, instead of progressing the story forward, I will flashback to events that happened previously on the day my brother came back.

And so Cat does that. She remembers about 40 men, including Perwyn Frey, storming out of Riverrun and trampling Robb's flag as they did so. Crazy. Right? 

After this flashback, which I'm sure will be totally relevant for upcoming plot purposes, Cat is summoned down to the Great Hall to meet with her son and King. 

Robb shows up with a big ol' beard. It's been months since she's seen him... but it seems like years. Robb looks like a grown man now.  Robb is also surrounded by a bunch of new people that she doesn't recognize. 

Blackfish: Cat! How are things? I missed you!

He goes down and hugs Cat. Everyone looks around at each other, since this is some sort of huge breach of protocol. Especially for a woman who is pretty much a prisoner now.

Blackfish: Fuck all of you and your protocol. I can do what I like. I'm the fucking Blackfish.

They all nod in agreement, that is correct.

Robb: Okay, mother. We need to talk. I understand why you did what you did. Because your dainty, inferior, womanly heart. You thought what you did would help save my sisters. I get it. But it was still stupid.

Lord Rickard Karstark: This woman has robbed me of my vengeance! Jaime Lannister killed my sons!

Cat: Your sons were already dead while my daughters are still alive. They have a chance!

Karstark: Lannister played you for a fool. And worse than a fool... you are a traitor!

Robb: Okay, that's enough of that shit, Karstark. It's one thing for me to chastise her, but it's another for one of my men WHO SERVES ME to call my mom a traitor.  Mom, I know what you did was for love. And it's... um... okay... to... ermm... sometimes... make... mistakes. Because of love. You know. So I forgive you.

Cat: Wow. I thought you'd be a lot harsher with me than that. I got off pretty easy. Strange. Almost as if you made some sort of love-related mistake yourself that was completely fucking stupid and therefore you find yourself less able to chastise and judge me.

Robb: Yeah. About thaaaaaaaat. Okay, I dismiss everyone in this court. Everybody leave. EVERYBODY LEAVE! Except family.

And so everyone else other than close family leaves. Some of the people that Cat didn't recognize stay though. 

Cat: Why are those people staying? You said everyone except for family leave. And where the hell is Grey Wind? You never go anywhere without Grey Wind!

Robb: Ah, yes. Well. This is Lady Sybell, wife of Lord Gawen Westerling of the Crag. I captured him in the Whispering Wood. The young knight is Sybell's son, Raynald. The other knight is Ser Rolph Spicer. And the last lady is... uhm... ermmm... Lord Gawen and Sybell's daughter, Jeyne Westerling. Whoisalsomywife. 

Cat: I'm sorry. What was that? I didn't catch that last part. But as you tell me, please allow me to have this giant gulp of refreshing Pepsi.

Robb: This is Jeyne Westerling, who is also my wife.

Cat: *giant comedy spit take* OH SHIT. YOU WENT DONE AND FUCKED UP.

Robb: No. Mom. Stop. You have to forgive me. I set you up in that forgiveness trap earlier. I forgave you for the dumb shit you did "for love." That means now you have to forgive me.

Cat: True. Fuck you're clever, son.

Jeyne: I promise to be a good wife and queen to King Robb! I love him very much.

Cat: Well, I can tell from those wide, sexy hips that you should be good at making babies. So at least you got that going for you.

Robb: MOM!!! Okay. Now everyone else is dismissed too. I need to talk with my mother, Edmure and the Blackfish in private.

And so the Westerlings go as well.

Cat: DAFUQ son? Isn't Lord Gawen sworn to Tywin Lannister?

Robb: Well, you know. Probably not anymore. What with me making his daughter the Queen of the North. Of course I'll have to free him now.

Cat: And... uhm... THE FREYS, SON. WHAT ABOUT THE FREYS? We needed them and surely this act has lost them! You were supposed to marry one of their daughters. You promised!

Robb: I know, I know. Look, I was wounded taking the Crag. And Jeyne helped nurse me back to health.

Cat: Oh, so she's a nurse? That's cool.

Robb: Not really.

Cat: Oh. Well in the show she's a nurse. What is she in the books?

Robb: Bland, nondescript and underdeveloped. But that's besides the point. When she was "nursing" me back to health... well... you know...

Cat: You hit that?

Robb: Yep.

Cat: And then you decided to MARRY the first woman you ever had sex with?

Robb: It would have been dishonorable not to!

Cat: Damnit, son. You are such a fuck up sometimes.

Robb: HEY LOOK. I was going through some emotional shit, mom. I had just gotten the raven that said Bran and Rickon had been murdered that day. I was sad. Jeyne was there for me. And come on. Those hips though.

Cat: True.

Robb: *sigh* I know it was dumb. Sometimes it feels like winning battles is the ONLY part of being king that I'm good at. All this politics and marriage alliance stuff is hard. 

Cat: Robb, I don't know how you're going to be able to make up for this. You haven't just insulted the Freys, you have GREVIOUSLY insulted them. You know how Walder Frey is already super dick-ish about his house never getting any respect. And for you to marry the daugthter of a lesser house instead of his?

Robb: Yeah. Maybe we can make some sort of other marriage alliance to make up for this.

Cat: Walder wanted to be grandfather to a king! No matter what other deal he gets, it won't be as good as you. I made a deal with him and you went back on it. Also, you never answered my question from earlier. Where the hell is Grey Wind?

Robb: Oh, I don't keep him around anymore. Jeyne is scared of him.

Cat: WHAT THE HELL?! That direwolf is your protector! He helped you in all those battles. He was always by your side. He's not just a pet, Robb. He's part of you. All of the direwolves were meant to be. Five direwolves found for the five Stark children. It was fate! Just think of the one that was with Bran! He had magical direwolf powers and sensed when Bran was in danger. He protected Bran when that catspaw killer was in the room.  Grey Wind is the same for you.

Robb: Six, mom.

Cat: Huh?

Robb: There were six wolves, not five. And six children. You're forgetting about Jon Snow and his direwolf too.

Cat: Ah yeah, well fuck that kid and his stupid fucking wolf.

Robb: Wow mom. Just wow. You're a pretty horrible stepmom.

Cat: My point is, the wolves were sent by the heavens to watch over you children. You must keep them by your sides!

Robb: Well, I USED to believe that. But a fat lot of good Summer and Shaggydog did protecting Bran and Rickon. They're dead now.


Then the Blackfish and Edmure suddenly remebered that they are still part of this scene and Robb hasn't dismissed them. 

Edmure: Oh shit. We're still here. Were we supposed to be doing anything?

Robb: Yeah. You're still here because me and Blackfish are about to ream your asshole out for disobeying my fucking orders.

Edmure: WHAT?!

Blackfish: The King told you to stay at Riverrun. And yet your ill-advised raids against Tywin's army fucked all of our plans up.

Edmure: Ill-advised? My raids were succesful! I messed up Tywin's armies!

Blackfish: BUT YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO. Your raids delayed Tywin's army. And delaying his army allowed him to receive news of Stannis's attack on King's Landing. That caused Tywin to change his plans, meet up with the Tyrells, and march on King's Landing.  They took Stannis in the rear and--

Robb: --Hehehe. "Took Stannis in the rear."

Cat: SON! Stop that! You're supposed to act kingly!

Robb: Yeah, yeah. I know I am the king. But I'm also still a teenager.

Blackfish: ANYWAY. The whole thing fucked up Robb's plan to trap Tywin in he west. And it ALSO prevented Stannis from defeating Joffrey like he would have. So pretty much YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING UP.

Edmure: Oh. Uhmm. Oops?

Blackfish: Oops? OOPS? Is that really all you have to say?

Edmure: And... uhm... sorry?

Cat: Whatever. Lannisters, Tyrells. All of that shit has to wait. We have a bigger problem right now. The Greyjoys! So long as Theon Greyjoy holds Winterfell my son, your own claim as King of the North seems like a farce. If you can't protect your own home - how do you mean to claim a kingdom?

Robb: Yeah, I know. We've got to do something to get Winterfell back!

Cat: And you know what stands between us and Winterfell? The Twins and Lord Frey.

Robb: Yes. We need to find some way to get Walder Frey back on our side.

Cat: Not some way, son. Some ONE.

Robb: Cryptic much, mom? 

ASoS 13: Arya II

Arya, Hot Pie and Gendry leave the safety of the woods and go to collect vegetables from an abandoned garden near the river.

Gendry: I dunno. It seems a little dangerous going out in the open like this. What if we get caught?

Arya: Please, what are the chances of that happening?

Someone walks by, singing. 

Singer: You gotta make a big impression, oh yeah. Gotta like what you do. I'm a genie in a bottle, baby. Gotta rub me the right way, honey.

Arya: Well at least it's better than Mandy Moore.

Hot Pie: SHHHH!!!

Gendry: Yeah. Be quiet, Arya. We need to hide in this old, crumbling brick wall so we aren't seen or heard.

Singer: I can see you and hear you.

Arya: DAMNIT!

Arya jumps out from behind the old wall with her sword. But instead of seeing just one person, she sees three - the singer, an archer, and a solider dude with a big, lemon-colored cloak. 

Arya: I will kill you all.

The three start laughing. 

Arya: What? WHAT? I totally could.

Singer: Oh, little girl. Don't be crazy. Put down the sword, and we'll take you and your companions some place safe.

Hot Pie and Gendry, knowing they've been caught too, stand up and join Arya. 

Singer: Where did you steal those horses from?

Arya: We didn't steal them. They're ours.

Singer: Suuuuure. Whatever. I've been rude. Let me introduce myself. My name is Tom Sevenstreams. But you can call me Tom SevenSTRINGS because I'm such a great musician. Or just Tom o' Sevens.

Arya: I highly doubt I will call you anything other than "Tom." 

Archer: And I'm Anguy.

Arya: You're a guy?

Anguy: No. ANGUY.

Arya: It's "a guy." You don't add the indefinite article of "n" after "a" when you're introducing a word that begins with a consonant. You only do that with vowels. For the most part. There are some exceptions. Like when something starts with a consonant but sounds like its a vowel. Like "hour." You'd say, "I'll meet you in an hour" rather than "a hour" because hour sounds like--

Anguy: --No. ANGUY. No space in the middle. I'm not saying I'm "a guy," but "Anguy."

Arya: That's stupid. There is no way anyone could have a stupider name than you. For instance, that guy with the lemon-colored cloak there. What's your name?

Guy with Lemon-Colored Cloak: My name is Lem Lemoncloak.

Arya: I stand corrected.

Hot Pie: I'm Hot Pie!

Gendry: STUPID! Don't tell them your real name. Tell them a fake name. Like... uhh... I'm "The Bull."

Hot Pie: Oh yeah, like "Hot Pie" is my real birth name.

Arya: And my name is "Squab."

Lem: Well, based on the fact that you're wearing a tunic with Lord Bolton's sigil, I'm going to assume you all stole your horses and clothes from Lord Bolton. Which means you were prisoners of Bolton. Which means you must be Lannisters.

Arya: No way! We don't belong to any faction. Who do YOU belong to?

Anguy: We serve the king!

Arya: Yeah, but which one, dipshit? The entire last novel was called "A Clash of Kings" because there were five of them.

Anguy: We serve King Robert.

Arya: Well that's stupid because he's dead. Also, you guys don't look like you serve any king. You sort of look like a bunch of rapscallion outlaws and highwaymen that go around robbing people.

The Three Guys: *shifty eyes*

Hot Pie: We're going to Riverrun.

Arya: JESUS CHRIST, HOT PIE! WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND STOP TELLING THEM EVERYTHING?!

Tom: You guys should come with us, back to our inn.

Arya: No thanks, we'll go on our own way. You three can fuck off.

Anguy pulls out his bow, nocks the arrow, draws the string, and points it at them. 

Arya: You know, on second thought... going to an inn actually sounds pretty cool. Yeah, let's do that.

And so they follow the three back to the inn. Along the way...

Tom: Hey, can any of you three sing?

Hot Pie: Sure. Check this out.

Hot Pie starts immediately belting out the Diva Plavalaguna Opera song from "The Fifth Element." He hits all the high notes. Perfectly. Everyone's eyes fill with tears.

Arya: Holy shit. That was beautiful, Hot Pie. How the hell is it that you can sing?

Hot Pie: *shrugs*

They get to the inn where they see a boat tied up. A boat that looks suspiciously familiar to one mentioned, oh, I don't know, just a two chapters ago. The inn is suspiciously familiar too, as it has a kneeling man on the sign.

Woman: Found some strays, huh?

Lem: Yes we did, Sharna. 

Arya: Sweet boat there, lady. Can I take it to Riverrun?

Gendry: No way. The water is too dangerous. We should stay on the horses.

Sharna: What you kids need to do is come inside and have some rabbit and ale.

Hot Pie: YES! FOOOOOOOOOD!

Arya: Well, I'm not sure you should be giving ale to children, but whatever. Things were different in medieval times.

They all go inside. Except for Gendry. Gendry stays outside for convenient plot purposes. Inside, the rest of them find another man as they eat the rabbit.

Husband: It's me!

Arya: Geez. This character still doesn't have a name? He's just going to be called "Husband" forever?

Sharna: I still can't believe you gave away those horses to those three people, Husband. LAME.

Husband: Well, I couldn't defeat those three on my own. One of those guys was clearly a skilled knight and the other was this lady who was GIANT. I gave those three directions to go down the road where they'd be ambushed by Lem, Anguy and Tom. It's not my fault. We would have had those horses back. Are you sure your three men weren't the ones who fucked up and missed them?

Lem: HEY! We're right here.

Husband: At least we got these good gold dragons out of the deal.

Tom: Speaking of those gold dragons, I'd like to use them to buy your horses, Squab.

Husband: No way, I already spent those gold dragons on some NASCAR tickets.

Tom: Okay, never mind then. Squab, I'll still pay you three dragons. But it will be an I.O.U.  I'll give you a piece of paper that says I owe you three gold dragons. Then after the war, you can turn it in to me and I'll give you the coins.

Arya: Hahaha... PAPER CURRENCY?! It will never work, you idiot. I'm not falling for that scam. Although since you're all a bunch of fucking bandits, I feel like you're just going to steal the horses anyway. So can I at least have that boat from you as a trade?

Gendry then runs inside. 

Gendry: GUYS! GUYS! There are a dozen soldiers approaching! EVERYBODY PANIC!

Tom: Meh.

Gendry: What do you mean "Meh?!" SOLDIERS!!!!

But the rest of the inn residents look unperturbed as well. 

Sharna: You have no need to worry. You're with King's Men now.

Arya: Oh, not this shit again. I bet you're all Clegane's men. Fuck this.

Arya reaches for her sword and starts to pull it out. But Lem grabs her arm and twists it. 

Arya: OW! Asshole! I can't believe you'd hurt a girl like that.

Lem: Well, I mean you were going to stab us. So really, it's sort of self-defense.

Arya grabs a tankard of ale and smashes it into Lem's face. She makes a break for it, but is quickly caught.

The soldiers from outside enter the inn.

Lead Soldier: Okay, just what the hell is going on here?

Arya: Wait... Harwin?

Harwin, son of Hullen (the Master of Horses of Winterfell): Oh shit. Arya Fucking Stark of Winterfell and daughter to Ned Stark?

Everyone around gasps upon the realization of who Arya is. 

Gendry: HOLY SHIT. ARYA STARK? YOUR NAME IS STARK?!

Harwin: Lem, let that girl go.

Lem: Aww. Damnit. She smashed me in the face with a tankard. She broke my fucking nose.

Tom: If anything, it just makes your ugly face look better.

Arya: Hey Harwin. I have this odd feeling that the last time I saw your father, Hullen, as he lay dying, he told me to tell you something. But I can't remember. It was, like, two fucking books ago. I've gone through some shit since then.

Harwin: Yeah, so have I. I've joined the Brotherhood without Banners.

Arya: Oh right. Nevermind. That was it. I remember now. He told me to tell you NOT to do that.

Harwin: Ah. Well. Too late.