AGoT 11: Daenerys II

Dany is awkwardly waiting for her wedding. She is not looking forward to any of this shit.

Illyrio: Will you just look at this giant horde or 40,000 warriors? This is insane. We've had to double the guards here in Pentos.  But you know how these Dothraki weddings are, right? Crazy!

Viserys: Ugh, can this wedding just hurry up and happen? The Dragon cannot wait for long until he gets his crown that he deserves! The sooner the Dragon's sister is married the sooner the Dragon gets that army to take back the Seven Kingdoms!

Jorah Mormont: Patience, your highness.

Dany: Oh wow! Jorah joined us, huh? He's a part of our crew?

Illyrio: Yes, that happened in-between chapters. Don't worry about it. He serves Viserys now.  And I agree with him. We must have patience. Khal Drogo must first consummate the marriage.

Dany: I'm thirteen.

Illyrio: Then he must take his bride back to Vaes Dothrak, the City of Riders. The Dothraki are a superstitious people. There he will wait for a good omen before he readies his riders to cross the Narrow Sea. It might take weeks for such an omen. It might take months. It might not happen until a book that hasn't even been published yet as of 2017, despite the fact that this book was published in 1996.

Viserys: The Dragon cannot wait that long! The Dragon wants to go now! NOW! NOW! NOW!

That night, Dany goes to sleep and starts to have a dream. It's weird and Shaq is in it, smearing a menthol-based liniment on his aches to both dull the pain and relax it away. It's crazy. It makes no sense. But dreams seldom make sense. And then suddenly the plot of the dream takes a drastic shift and Shaq turns into her brother. Viserys begins beating her and shouting about waking the dragon.

She wakes up in a hot sweat. 

An indeterminate amount of time passes (meh, let's just say its the next day or something).  Dany and Drogo are now getting married out in the sun because their fucking horse god or whatever likes to watch and yet isn't a powerful enough god to see through a roof. The ceremony takes all day.

Dany: Ugh, this is brutal. This is taking forever. This is longer than watching "Contact" on basic cable with commercial breaks.

While Drogo and Dany are up high on the dais, Viserys, Illyrio and Jorah are down below on a lower platform.

Viserys: This is such bullshit! The Dragon should never be seated at the bottom. And look! The Dragon is being served only the food that Dany and that barbarian refuse. The Dragon demands to be fed first!

Jorah: Man this guy is a whiny douche. Why did I pledge myself to him? Oh wait... I remember now! *maniacal, scheming laugh*

Illyrio: That was a pretty maniacal, scheming laugh there, Jorah. What was up with that?

Jorah: Oh, nothing. *rubs hands together like Mr. Burns* 

Back up with Dany...

Dany: I can tell Viserys is pissed that he doesn't get to eat first. What a bitch. And it's not even like he's getting sloppy seconds. I'm not even eating. I can't eat a thing. My stomach is turning. Here I am getting married to this crazy warlord I don't even know. He's barely paying attention to me and we can't even speak the same language. It's a million degrees. And I have to put on this fake as smile or else Viserys will smack me. And how can I smile? Just look at this shit!

Dany watches as a bunch of Dothraki surround naked women and start raping them. Right there in front of everyone. When two Dothraki claim the same woman, they wind up fighting to the death with all their zany scythe weapons or whatever they are. Dany didn't go to weapon school. She watches as twelve different men are brutally murdered in front of her face. She had heard that at least three people had to die to make it a real party, so obviously her wedding was way above average. After each time the blood is splattered everywhere, the Dothraki go right back to raping. 

Dany: This is pretty fucked up. I am a thirteen year old girl. I shouldn't be watching this. I should be watching Hannah Montana.

Finally the raping part of the wedding ceremony is over and they go to the gift-giving part of it. 

Viserys: Here are the Dragon's gifts for you, dear sister. I bring you three maids.

Dany: Uhm. These aren't even your gifts. You got them from someone else. Are you re-gifting gifts to your sister on her wedding day?

Irri: Hi, I'm Irri. I can teach you how to ride horses.

Jhiqui: I'm Jhiqui. I can teach you the Dothraki language.

Doreah: I'm Doreah. I can teach you how to fuck really good. Like really ride a guy.

Viserys: Hohoho, oh yes she can! Both Illyrio and the Dragon can attest to that!

Dany: First of all - gross. Second - I'm thirteen. Lastly - gross again. Did you really need to share the fact that you and Illyrio are Eskimo brothers? Like, at the same time or something?

Viserys blushes and runs away pouting. 

Next up is Jorah. 

Jorah: Princess, I give you the gift of... uh... these books. I know that sounds cheap but it's sort of deep because they're all old and written in the common tongue.

Dany: Aww, how sweet! What a thoughtful gift.

Jorah walks away.

Dany: Cheap ass.

Illyrio is next. He begins by giving her a bunch of expensive silks. But then he hands her some other shit. 

Dany: Whoa! What the hell are these three things? So pretty.

Illyrio: They are dragon eggs, from the Shadow Lands. Priceless, but of course they have turned to stone since they're ancient.

Dany: Awesome. I guess I can use them as paper weights or something.

A bunch of other stupid gifts arrive, including a horde of fancy weapons. 

Dany: Uh.. honey, how about you have these instead?

She gives them to Drogo, who just smiles and takes them because they don't speak the same language and this is pretty much just a particularly awful episode of 90 Day Fiancé. 

Last, Drogo gets up and gives her the final gift - a grey horse.

Dany: Oh wow, this is a pretty awesome horse. Thanks hubby.

Guy in the Crowd: RIDE IT!

Other Guy: YEAH, RIDE IT!

Everyone: RIDE IT! RIDE IT! RIDE IT!

Dany: Oh, I don't know. I'm not that good of a rider. 

Everyone: RIDE IT! RIDE IT! RIDE IT!

Dany: Really, I can't. It would be so embarrassing. I'm just an amateur.

Everyone: RIDE IT! RIDE IT! RIDE IT!

Dany: Well, if you insist.

She gets on the horse and immediately starts booking it.  This horse is great. It's like the Mustang of horses or something. She dashes around and runs towards a gigantic fire. She then has the horse jump over the giant fire.

Dany: YOLO!

The crowd goes wild as Dany nails it and comes to a halt. People start throwing roses and doing those Italian kisses that are like "MWAH! That's-a-good-a-horse-riding!"

Irri: Well damn. Teaching you how to ride a horse was supposed to be my whole thing. What is my purpose now? How is it that I wind up being the one which has the biggest role in the books?

Dany brushes herself off and and bows to the crowd a few times. She walks up to her husband and also pulls Illyrio forward so that she can have him translate for her. 

Dany: Illyrio, tell Drogo that he has given me the wind!

Illyrio: [Says something in Dotkraki]

Drogo: [Says something in Dotkraki]

Illyrio: Khal Drogo says that he apologizes and that regrets serving so many beans.

Dany: No, what I meant was... ahh... never mind. I've never felt more alive. Finally I feel free.

Viserys: Well, you know what comes next. You better please your husband or the Dragon will be very upset with you!

Dany: Ugh. Thanks for reminding me...

Cutting to the next scene, we now find Dany and her husband riding out to the place where they will consummate their marriage by a small stream. They dismount from their horses and--

Dany: --You know what, I'm just going to cut you off there, Mr. Narrator guy. People don't need to read the rest of this. I think technically in most jurisdictions the content of the rest of the chapter counts and child pornography and you can be arrested for owning it. Because, reminder... I'm thi--

--Thirteen. Yes. Yes. We get it. And okay, I won't say the rest.

Dany: Thanks Sam.

Shhh! People aren't supposed to know I'm Sam. Yet.

AGoT 10: Jon II

Jon walks up the stairs to Bran's room, with Ghost following him closely behind. He's a bit worried, thinking this might the the last time he ever sees Bran. But as soon as he gets through the door...

Jon: Fuuuuuuck.

... He sees Cat Stark sitting there with Bran, like she's been doing non-stop forever. She gives him the evil eye. The super evil eye. The super duper evil eye. That's why he hadn't bothered to come here before. Because that bitch. He had hoped that maybe she'd take a break or something eventually. But nope.

Cat: Get out of here! Leave!

Jon: I want to see my brother!

Cat: No, you bastard! Leave! Get out! GIT! I SAID GIT, BOY, GIT!

Jon: Oh fuck that shit.

Jon walks in.

Ghost stays behind, but hears Bran's unnamed direwolf howl from outside the room's window, where it has been ever since Bran has been in bed.

Ghost: *slight bark* [Translation: Yo, whattup?]

Bran's Unnamed Direwolf: *howl* [Translation: Ah, nothin' much, nothin' much. You know me dawg, chillin'. Protecting my boy here.]

Cat: I'm calling the guards!

Jon: Fine, whatever. Do that.

Jon keeps walking in and goes up to Bran. He leans in for a hug. Cat does nothing, just like Jon thought. He straight called her bluff like a playa.

Jon: Don't die little brother. We're all waiting for you to wake up. I know how much you were looking forward to going south, just like how I have to go north now to the wall.

Cat: *sniff* Oh Bran! Bran! I wished that you would stay here at Winterfell... and now my wish came true! But it's not at all like I wanted. It's just like when you wish something to an evil genie but they're super literal or they fuck you over with some sort of trick that goes against the spirit of the very wish. The Pussycat Dolls warned us all about this with "When I Grow Up," but I failed to listen!

She breaks into full-on sobbing.

Jon: Oh, come on now. There, there. It's not your fault.

She immediately snaps and transforms from grieving mother to stone-hearted (ha!) bitch.

Cat: I KNOW IT'S NOT MY FAULT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU WHO FELL AND WAS CRIPPLED. OR BETTER YET... DIED.

Ghost: *whimper* [Translation: Dude, let's get out].

Jon walks away backwards very slowly out of the room.

He eventually exits and finds his way to the yard of Winterfell. Things are crazy here. Lots of folks are packing up and preparing for King's Landing. Others still are preparing for the separate trip up to Castle Black and the Wall.

Robb: Oh hey Jon, Benjen has been looking all over for your ass. He wanted to get going an hour ago.

Jon: Ah, I've got a couple things to do first.

Robb: Okay, cool. If I bump into him again I'll tell him I didn't even see you. Let you have some time, man.  Hey, you check on Bran like you say you were going to?

Jon: Yep.

Robb: How was mom?

Jon: See You Next Tuesday.

Robb: Huh?

Jon: I mean a lovely woman. So kind.

Robb: Ah, well... I'm going to miss you, Jon. I guess the next time I see you you'll be wearing all black like some kind of goth kid who's all into dragons and the dead.

Jon: Yes, because we will indeed see each other again.

They hug it out. For the last time ever.

Robb: Wait... what did that narrator say?

Nothing!!!

Moving on, Jon goes to check on his best buddy in the whole world - his little sister, Arya.  She's packing bags with the help of Nymeria. Well, I mean technically she's packing the bag alone and Nymeria's version of "help" is sitting on everything and getting hair on it all.

Jon: Shit, shouldn't you have packed by now?

Arya: I did, but Septa Mordane said it wasn't good enough so now I have to do it again.

Jon: Hey, that's cool. It actually allows me an opportunity to give you something you can take with you. But it's a secret. You can't let anyone know about this... okay?

Arya: A secret? Awesome!

Jon: Promise not to tell Sansa.

Arya: That trick-ass narc? Haha, no way. 

Arya sends Nymeria to the door to guard it, and then closes the door.

Arya: Okay bro, give me that sweet weed!

Jon: What? No! That's not it. I got you this!

Jon pulls out a little small sword.

Arya: Oh, sweet! A dangerous and sharp weapon! Just what every small child needs and desires.

Jon: I had it made especially for you. It's like the ones in Braavos. You're going to need to practice with it every day until you become an expert. I'd give you more complex instructions than that... but the basic gist is that you stab people with this pointy end here. Until they die.

Arya: Yeah, I knew that part, you condescending dick. But seriously... you're like the best brother ever.

They hug.

Jon: Oh, and before I go... you've got to remember that the best swords always have a name. Can you guess what I named this sword for you?  I named it after your favorite thing!

Arya: Wow! You named my sword, "Bashing Septa Mordane's Head in With a Brick and then Watching the Snow Fall on Her Dead Body!" That's cool AF, but it's also kind of a long name. Perhaps we need to go with something shorter.

Jon: Uh, no. It's called "Needle."

Arya: Ahhhhhh, I see what you did there. You were going the ironic route. Sorry, usually we sync up on jokes like that. Do stuff like say the same word together in unison. I guess we were on a different wavelength today.

AGoT 9: Tyrion I

Tyrion is sitting in the library tower, after a long night of reading old scrolls about shit. But he's having trouble concentrating, what with all that direwolf noise in the distance. 

Bran's Unnamed Wolf: *HOWL* [Translation: I told you not to climb up that tower, dumbass.]

Tyrion: Oh man, so annoying. I can't even read. Septon Chayle, please put these scrolls away for me. I think I need to go get some breakfast. Does Winterfell have an IHOP?

Chayle: *snore*

Chayle is fast asleep, drooling on a desk and angrily thinking about how Catelyn Stark hasn't returned that one library book. 

Tyrion: Whatever.

Tyrion leaves to go find some breakfast. On his way, he bumps into Sandor Clegane and Prince Joffrey.

Tyrion: Howdy.

Hound: Huh? Is someone talking? I don't see anyone. Here I am scanning all around for people at eye level, but I am unable to see any regular-sized human beings. Nope. Nobody here. Was it the wind? Was it my imagination? OH SHIT! There you are! Like, on the ground. Hey everyone! it was Tyrion talking! I couldn't tell at first, what with how short you are. I didn't see you all low down like a small baby.

Joffrey: *snicker*

Tyrion: Yeah, hilarious. It never gets old.

Bran's Unnamed Wolf: *HOWL*

Hound: Man, how long is it going to take that stupid kid Bran to die?

Joffrey: Who cares? At least he's dying quietly. Not like his stupid dog. Ugh. Will somewhat shut that thing up?

Hound: Want me to go kill it?

Joffrey: Haha, awesome. Yeah, I bet those stupid Starks won't even know it's missing.

Tyrion: Really? There are six wolves. Surely the Starks can count to six. Unlike you, you little bitch. Here, see this? One... two... three... four... five...

Tyrion extends his fingers one by one as he counts them out. As he reaches five and has an open palm he slaps Joffrey in his stupid fucking mouth. He then clenches his fist and punches him in the dick too. I mean why not? I figure adding that in would be cool too. 

Joffrey: AGHHH!!! Uncle Dwarfy slapped me! Don't think I'll ever forget this!

Tyrion: Good, I hope not.

Joffrey: Hound, do something!

Hound: Nah, that was pretty funny. Mad props, little guy.

Tyrion continues on his way. Unfortunately since Winterfell is the White trash part of Westeros they don't have an IHOP. All they have is a Waffle House. He finds his brother and sister there, along with the little "Baratheon" kids. 

Tyrion: Whattup biznitches? Is the King still in bed?

Cersei: *rolls eyes* Ugh, I don't think he ever event went to sleep. He was up all night with Ned crying over that little dying boy. So annoying.

Jaime: You know the King has a large heart, Cersei.

Cersei: Yeah. It's called "Cardiomyopathy." Probably caused by hypertension from being such an alcohol-abusing, pie-eating fatass.

As Tyrion is ordering his breakfast, Tommen and Myrcella remember that that they're in the scene too. 

Tommen: I don't want Bran to die!

Myrcella: I hope he'll be okay.

Jaime: I dunno. We'll see what happens. Bran is a pretty unlucky name. His uncle Brandon was executed by the Mad King. There was Brandon the Shipwright who got lost at sea. Brandon the Burner who went crazy and burned all his fleet. Brandon the Bad whose nickname should be enough background. There was the Bran who had Old Nan as his wet nurse and died at age 3. Another Bran who accidentally hung himself in the closet doing some auto-erotic asphyxiation. Of course we can't forget the Bran that Sky Diver. I think we all remember how that one ended. And Bran the--

Tyrion: --Actually, Maester Luwin seems to think Bran might indeed live. If we was going to die then he probably would have already.

Cersei, in the middle of drinking, does a comic spit take. 

Tommen and Myrcella: Yaaaay!

Tyrion: I think that direwolf is somehow keeping him alive. Like, with magic direwolf powers. He'll probably never walk again though.

Cersei: What the HELL? It's no mercy for him to live. He'll be a cripple. Deformed. If he starts to wake up they should just kill him anyway. Especially if he starts talking. About things he thinks he might have seen. You know, like anything happening up in the First Keep. Probably just his imagination. Or some delusion from hitting his head really hard on the ground. Honestly, if he does live everyone should just ignore whatever he has to say because it's crazy cripple talk.

Jaime: Yeah, deformed people are the worst. I can't imagine being deformed in any way. Like, if I lose a hand or something.

Cersei: And those wolves. Ugh, they better not come to King's Landing.

Jaime: I think they probably will. They're inseparable from those damn Starks. Anyway, I can't wait to get out of this hold hellhole and back to King's Landing.

Tyrion: I don't plan on going back to KL myself. At least not immediately. I'll take the opportunity while I'm up here to go visit the Wall. I've seen it on post cards. It looks pretty sweet.

Jaime: Haha, planning on taking up the black?

Tyrion: What? No! Those people have to be celibate. And if I was celibate then all the whores in the Seven Kingdoms would have to go begging. Because, you know, I pay for sex a lot.

Cersei: Gross, just gross. Can't you see that there are children right here?

Myrcella: Mommy, what's a whore?

Tommen: What's sex?

Cersei: *sigh*

Tyrion: The real reason I'm going to go to the wall is actually so that I can pee off the side.

Jaime: Really? That's the reason?

Tyrion: Yep.

Jaime: You're such a weirdo. Anyway, back to this Bran kid. If I were Ned I'd just just end it all now. Use that big ass sword and be done with it.

Tyrion: Geez, you two really seem obsessed with wanting this Bran kid to die. I wonder why.

Cersei and Jaime: *nervous sweat* 

AGoT 8: Bran II

Bran is chilling by himself. Most everyone went away on some crazy wild boar hunt with that fat ass king. But Bran got left behind with Jon, Rickon and the girls. But he didn't want to hang out with any of them. The girls are girls, Rickon is too young, and Jon is always angry about shit. 

Bran: Why's Jon so angry? He gets to go to the Wall and join the Night's Watch! That's so sweet. That wall is so cool. I would love to climb it one day. I love climbing.

But Bran remembers that going to King's Landing. That will be cool too. Old Nan told him all sorts of stories about it. About how it's haunted. There are ghosts and dragon skulls and dungeons. Spooky as hell! But his dad would be there to protect him as Hand of the King if it got too scary, so it would all be good.

Bran: I guess since I'm leaving forever tomorrow I should say goodbye to everyone here. Like Old Nan and Hodor and shit. And my old pony. Who needs an pony anymore? I'm going to be a knight and I get a real horse!  Which I'll barely use because I like walking so much... so why even bother riding a horse when I can walk instead?

But just then, Bran starts to tear up and get sad thinking about leaving behind his pony. He loves that pony and he loves Winterfell. It's the only place he's ever known. Instead of saying goodbye to anyone, he runs off with his still-unnamed direwolf into the godswood to teach him how to play catch.

Direwolf: *woof* [Translation: I'm getting real tired of not having a name, Bran. Everyone else has named their wolves. Jon has Ghost. Arya has Nymeria. Robb named his Grey Wind. Sansa named hers Lady. And Rickon... well... let's not talk about Rickon. I swear, if you give me a crappy name like "Shaggydog," then I will eat your face while you sleep].

Bran: Here you are boy! Get it! Get it!

Bran throws a stick.

Direwolf: *looks at Bran Cross-Eyed* [Translation: What the hell? You threw the stick... you pick it up! I'm not your servant. Do I look like some kind of golden retriever? I am a damn direwolf. Best remember that, son. Now maybe if you throw a STEAK I'll go get it. Don't expect me to bring it back though.]

Bran: Oh, you're no fun! As much as I enjoyed walking around with you, since I like walking and throwing sticks using all my amazing spinal strength... all my thinking about how awesome the Wall is reminds me how much I love climbing as well!  I think I'm going to start climbing right now!

Bran climbs up a tree and then leaps over to the top of the armory roof. 

Direwolf: *HOWL* [Translation: Oh shit Bran, this is a really bad idea. Get your ass back down here.]

Bran: Shhh! Calm down! I'm the best at climbing! Climbing is so fun! They always try to stop me from climbing by telling me I'll fall, but I never fall because I'm so good at it. Luwin said I'd die in a fall. Old Nan said I'd get my eyes pecked out by crows. All a bunch of malarkey! I think I'm going to climb over to that Broken Tower because it's so high. I'll feed some crows up there. Crows are great. I hope one day I get a cool nickname with "Crow" in it.

He begins climbing to the Broken Tower, but then hears some voices coming from the First Keep.

Bran: Oh wow, some voices. I thought everyone was gone on the hunt. I better check this out.

Female Voice: My husband the King is such an idiot. I hate him. And I don't like the fact that he's going to make Ned Stark the Hand of the King. It should have been you, dear brother.

Male Voice: Please, we have nothing to worry about with Ned Stark. These Northerners are like the white trash of Westeros. They're no schemers.

Female Voice: I'm worried about this Lysa Arryn thing though. What if Ned starts nosing around too hard? I saw him with that CSI notebook in his hand. He's obsessed with it.

Male Voice: Don't worry dear sister, we have nothing to fear. Now let me smack dat ayass.

*smacking sound*

Male Voice: Now let me turn on the radio here and play some sexy music. 

"The Things We Do for Love" by 10cc starts to play. 

Bran: Oh wow, I wonder who these two are. It's a total mystery to me. What female voice would be talking about being married to the King and then talking to someone that she refers to as her brother? And I think they're talking about my dad too! What with them saying his name several times. I better get even closer!

Bran, having no subtlety whatsoever, crawls right into the window to the First Keep and watches. 

Bran: Oh crazy, this guy is hurting that girl. I can tell because he's on top of her and she's moaning. He's all pulling her hair and stuff. Why isn't she trying to push him off?  So strange. And hey! What is he doing with that pee pee thing of his?

Cersei: AGHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?! CREEPER!

Bran: Oh shit!

Bran starts to lose his balance after getting caught watching.  Jaime catches him and pulls him up. 

Jamie: Whoa there, kiddo. What the hell are you doing here?

Bran: Uh, just climbing. I love climbing. Hey! Why were you hurting your sister like that?

Jamie: Well, uhhm... sometimes when a boy likes a girl and the girl just happens to be his sister even though she's married to the King... uhm... he... and... err...

He looks back at Cersei, trying to think of some good way to explain it.  She shrugs. 

Jamie: Ah, fuck it.

He pushes Bran out of the window. 

AGoT 7: Arya I

Arya sits around with a bunch of other girls sewing, because that's what girls are supposed to do in Westeros. With her there is her sister Sansa, Princess Myrcella, Jeyne Poole, and some girl named Beth that you don't have to remember because she's not important. They're all being watched by Septa Mordane. 

Arya: Oh man, my needlework sucks so hard. Look at Sansa's needlework there. So perfect. She's so perfect. And pretty. She's got that pretty red hair from our mom just like Robb, Bran and Rickon. Only Jon and I have dark hair and we're ugly. It's just not fair! Life isn't fair.

Myrcella: Hey Septa! How does my needlework look?

Myrcella shows the Septa a bunch of crooked-ass bullshit that is even worse than Arya's. 

Septa Mordane: Oh, it's so beautiful princess! You're so talented. Truly a worthy princess and we're all lucky to have you present here.

Arya: *grumble* Unfair bullshit. What a kiss-ass.

Arya then hears the other girls giggling. 

Arya: What the hell you bitches laughing at?

Jeyne Poole: Hehe, we were just talking about how handsome Joffrey is. He's so cute!

Sansa: And noble, and strong, and not at all a whiny little douchebag.

Jeyne Poole: Sansa and Joffrey sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. They're going to get married!

Sansa: *giggle* Shut up!

Arya: Whatever. Jon says Joffrey looks like a girl.

Jeyne Poole: No, Joffrey is handsome! He doesn't have an ugly face like you, Arya. You have an ugly horse face! Your face is sooooooo ugly. I'm so glad I don't look like you at all. With your ugly face. Like a horse. A particularly ugly horse. If I looked like you it would be the worst. I can't imagine people possibly mistaking me for you. Like, you know, confusing us. If somebody was like, "I need someone to stand in for Arya," they would NEVER pick me. Because I look nothing like you.

Sansa: I mean you look a little like her.

Jeyne Poole: WHAT?!

Septa Mordane: What are you girls chattering about?

Sansa: About how Jon thinks Joffrey looks like a girl. But only because he's jealous because he's a bastard.

Arya: Take it back! He's our brother!

Sansa: Half.

Septa Mordane: Okay, be quiet. You're in front of a princess here. This is no time for... uh... oh my Arya.  You suck at this needlework and are really, really terrible. Just look how awful this is. You'll never be a proper lady if you can't--

Arya: SCREW YOU, SEPTA! I'm leaving!

She storms out. 

Knowing that she'll be quickly caught if she just goes back to her room, she decided to go out to watch the boys fighting in the practice yard. Because fighting is cool. Along the way, her direwolf (which she named "Nymeria" after an awesome famous warrior queen) shows up.

Arya: Come on Nymeria, let's go watch some fighting because that's awesome!

As she arrives, she sees Jon. Jon tussles her hair because these two are besties. Thick as thieves.

Jon: I can't wait to see those Lannister kids gets get messed up!

Arya: You mean "Baratheon?"

Jon: Yeah, sure. Baratheon. Let's go with that.

Down in the yard, master-at-arms Rodrik Cassel watches over some fights. Tommen and Bran are all padded up and fighting each other with wooden swords and it's pathetic.

Arya: Man, they all suck so hard. Why can't you go down there and fight too Jon? You're like the best!

Jon: They won't let a bastard fight a trueborn prince.

Arya: Man, life is so unfair for us. I hate everyone down there. I hope they all die and/or get crippled.

Jon: Wow, dark Arya. Dark.

Bran knocks Tommen down and wins his fight.

Bran: YESSSS! I am the best! I am truly going to be a great knight one day! What with my ability to use my spine to its fullest potential to leverage swings of the sword!

Rodrik: Okay, up next... Joffrey vs. Robb. Round One. FIGHT!!!!

Jon: Ugh. Joffrey. Such a little shit.

Joffrey: What is this, lowly man? I am the prince and heir to the throne! How dare you say I have to fight this inferior Stark boy with a practice sword! Give me a REAL sword!

Rodrik: Umm... no.

Robb: Oh, I'll accept that challenge. I will mess you up, you little blonde douche.

Rodrik: I said no.

The Hound: Oh please. Let these boys fight with real swords. I was just a little kid when I started brutally murdering people.

Joffrey: *fake yawn* Oh my, well. I guess if I can't use a real sword you should all assume I would have just won the fight anyway. Because I'm better. I don't need to prove it. As Prince I declare myself the victor. Now if you'll excuse me, Tommen and I will leave. Just remember I won despite the fact that I didn't fight. In no way am I a coward who avoided conflict. Because I totally wanted to fight for real.

They leave. 

Jon: Wow, total bitch move. Anyway Arya, I think you should get back. You're probably already in trouble for skipping your needlework.

Arya: *grumbles* Okay.

Arya begins to head back and Nymeria follows.  But as she's trying to tip toe back all stealthily, she runs into both Septa Mordane and her mom. 

Cat: ARYA!!!!

Arya: DAMNIT!

AGoT 6: Catelyn II

Cat is in her bedchamber, thinking about how hot her room is based on Winterfell's natural heating from hot springs. She thinks about a crossword puzzle she did the other week, and tries to remember if she returned a library book. Septon Chayle will be so miffed if that book is overdue. Suddenly she notices that she's bouncing a little. Is there a mini earthquake happening or something?

Eddard: OH, OH, OHHHHHHHH!!!!! AHHHHH, yeah. Was that good for you, baby?

Cat: Oh shit. Were we having sex? I mean, ah, yeah. Of course. You definitely hit my sweet spot. So good.

Eddard: Golly, is it hot in here or what? Let me open this window.

Cat: So honey, we need to talk about this "Hand of the King" thing that Robert offered you.

Eddard: Yes, we do. I'm going to refuse it.

Cat: No! You must not! Robert will be furious.

Eddard: Yeah, for a little bit. But I know him. He'll be pissed off for a while, but a few days later we'll be back to bros again.

Cat: You used to know him, Ned. It's been nine years. He's a different person now.

Eddard: More like two different people. Get it? Get it?

Cat: Yes, I--

Eddard: --Because he's so fat!

Cat: Look, what I'm trying to say is that he's a King now. If you refuse he will think you're not trustworthy. It will put all of our family in danger!

Suddenly there is a knock on the bedchamber door.

Desmond: Excue me, Lord Stark. Maester Luwin has an urgent message.

Eddard: Okay, fine. Let him in. Just give us a few minutes to--

The door swings open.

Maester Luwin: --Here I am!

Eddard: Dude! Give us a few minutes! Can't you tell we were just having sex?

Cat: Why would he if I couldn't?

Luwin: Please Ned, I helped deliver all of Cat's babies. I ain't seeing nothing now I haven't seen before.

Eddard: So what is the urgent message?

Luwin: Here, this package arrived. It's got some dumb glass lens in it but that's not important. What's important is that there is a hidden message under it.

Eddard: Well give me the damn message!

Luwin: Ah, actually it's for Lady Catelyn. Not you.

Cat grabs the message.

Cat: It's from my sister, Lysa. It's in a secret sister language that only we two know, convieniently for plot purposes. She says that Robert Arryn was MURDERED!

Luwin: DUNN DUNN DUNNNNNNNNN!!!

Eddard: By who? BY WHO?

Cat: By the Lannisters!

Luwin: OH, SNAP!

Cat: Oh crap honey. You know what this means? You definitely need to become Hand of the King now! To help solve this mystery!

Eddard: I'm not sure that makes sense. And I don't want to go south. That place is a nest of adders.

Cat: Oh shit, "Nest of Vipers." Band name?

She looks at Ned and Maester Luwin. Luwin holds his hand out flat and shakes it a little. 

Luwin: Eh. It's okay.

Eddard: Besides my love, you know how going south usually goes for us Starks.

Cat: Don't you want to avenge your mentor's death? Robert will never believe us now. We have no evidence! But as Hand of the King you'll be able to have access to all that power, be close the the Lannisters, and you'll be able to figure it all out.

Eddard whips out his CSI notebook.

Eddard: Well, I'm sold. You don't have to tell me twice! Now I guess the only thing I need to do before heading out is to break this family totally apart so that we'll never all be happily together again.

Cat: Wait, what?

Eddard: Well, I mean Sansa and Arya obviously have to come with me. Sansa to court Joffrey and Arya to learn to become a proper lady since she's such a little tomboy. Bran will need to come with me too because I hear there is great rock climbing down there. And he loves rock climbing.

Cat: That's true. Almost as much as he loves his ability to walk.

Eddard: Yes, he does love walking and climbing. So that leaves Robb and Rickon to stay with you. Robb so he can be trained by you to govern Winterfell while I'm away and Rickon just because I don't fucking care for him that much.

Cat: Well, that just leaves Jon Snow. He can't go with you because there is no role for a bastard down in the King's Court. And he can't stay with me because he's not my son and I fucking hate him with all my heart.

Cat thinks back to the one time she confronted Ned about who Jon's mother was. She guessed Ashara Dayne. Which is actually a pretty shitty guess because if she was right it would have gone something like this:

Young Ned: Hello there Ashara. I just killed your brother... Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. But hey, no hard feelings right? I've come here to Starfall and brought you back his sword, Dawn, as a gift to you. I tried to clean most of his blood off.

Ashara Dayne: Oh wow! You murdered my brother? That's so hot! We should probably have sex right now so I can have your baby and then I'll jump out of this castle window and into the sea. Just promise to raise him.

Cat: I guess there is really only one solution to this. Ned, get out Ice and we'll just kill Jon.

Eddard: WHAT?! Jesus Cat, you really hate that kid.

Luwin: Uhm, if I might suggest an alternative m'lord and my m'lady.  I recently had a conversation with Benjen and he noted that the boy was interested in taking up the black.

Cat: I did once too. In college. This guy from the Summer Isles. He was like nine inches--

Luwin: --No, m'lady. I mean he wants to join the Night's Watch.

Cat: Ah, right.

Eddard: Well then it's settled! I guess that all worked out just fine.

AGoT 5: Jon I

Jon Snow, bastard of Winterfell, sits at a back table with a bunch of lowly squires for the feast for King Robert. And he's totally glad about that. 

Jon: Oh man, if I was one of those legitimate children I'd have to be up there on stage, putting on a show and having everyone look at me. I mean just look at my brothers and sisters up there - Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. Having to hang out with those Baratheon kids - Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. I would much rather just sit back here at drink as much as I want.

He pours himself some more wine. This brother is getting tore the fuck up. 

Jon: Oh yeah, and being back here also allows me to do this!

Jon grabs an entire chicken and throws it under the table, feeding it to his newly named doggo, Ghost. Another dog smells the chicken and starts to head over, but Ghost will have none of that shit. 

Ghost: *growl* [Translation: Do not fuck with me, bitch.]

Benjen Stark: Whattup Johnny?

Jon: Oh! Uncle Jenben! Howsch you doing my my man? I was jusch back here chillin and... uhh... I forget. Whasch are we talkshing about?

Benjen: Oh dude, I can smell your breath. You are drunk as shit! Hahaha, that's cool though. I was probably younger than you the first time I got shitfaced. And that's not to mention all that coke I used to do. Oh hey... is that your direwolf?

Jon: Yeah! I named him Ghosht! Becaushe he's white. But also becaushe he's all shtealthy.

Benjen: Cool, cool. You know we have direwolves north of the wall. I hear them when I'm out patrolling.

Jon: You're the best, Benjen. Being in the Nightsh Watch is sho aweshome.

Benjen: So why aren't you up on the dais with your family?

Jon: Oh, the shame old. Cat fucking hates me. I think she's using the excuse that it would be rude to put a bashtard up on shtage with a king. But fuck that ho.

Benjen: Whoa, calm down there drunky. Calm those slurred "s"es. You're starting to get rowdy. Not like your dad up there. He looks miserable.

Jon: Yeah, and look at Cersei with her reshting... *ahem*... resting bitch face too. She's angry as hell. Probably all hating on the fact that the King went down to the crypt to pay last respects to my aunt.

Benjen: You mean your mom?

Jon: What?

Benjen: Huh? What? No, I said you were right. Your aunt. Yeah, forget it. Let's keep going. You're very observant. We could use someone like you on the Wall.

Jon: Oh please! Take me with you when you head back up there! I want to join the Night's Watch.

Benjen: The Wall is a hard place for a boy. No women up there. You know what I mean.

Jon: Boy? Please! I'm, like, a fully grown man! I'm almost 15!

Benjen: Jesus, really? I keep forgetting how damn young everyone is in these books.

Jon: All my brothers and sisters... they will be able to become something. Robb will be Warden of the North one day. And Bran and Rickon his bannermen. Sansa and Arya will marry lords. Me? I'm a bastard. I've got nothing. I want to join the Night's Watch and make something of myself.

Benjen: Haha, maybe one day. You need to live a little first though. Maybe pop your cherry. Once you get a taste for that you might think twice about going to a place where you have to swear off women. Maybe father a few bastards of your own.

Jon: NO!

Jon slams the table and knocks a bunch of shit over. Everyone starts staring at him. 

Jon: I will NOT do that! I will never father a bastard! Bastards are the worst! Their lives are terrible! I could never do that to a kid!

Benjen: Wow, you get a bit self-hating when you're drunk, huh boy?

Jon: SCREW YOU, OLD MAN! I don't need to hear this! I'm going to go get some fresh air.

Jon stumbles away from the table, and in doing so knocks over a bunch of other shit and trips over himself, face planting to the ground. Shamed and holding back tears, he runs outside.

Ghost: *whine* [Translation: Oh great, now I got to follow my drunk ass master out just as I was getting to the dark meat.]

Outside, Jon tries to use the cold air to sober up when he catches glimpse of a a dwarf standing on a ledge. 

Jon: Are you Tyrion Lannister?

Tyrion: Nah, I'm some other dwarf. Hahahahaha, just fucking with you kid. Of course I am. Hey, check this out!

Tyrion does some acrobatic vault flip shit like Gabby Douglas and lands down from the ledge.

Jon: Wow, that is so stereotypical to depict dwarfs as doing carnival performance tricks for no reason at all. I am really, really glad that the TV show dropped that.

Tyrion: Oh fuuuuck, is that a direwolf? That thing is almost as big as me and it's a baby. Can I pet it?

Ghost: *growl* [Translation: No.]

Jon: Sure! Come on boy! It's okay.

Ghost: *sniffs* [Translation: Okay, I shall do this, but cautiously.]

Tyrion: So, you're Ned Stark's bastard, huh?

Jon: Dafuq?

Tyrion: Sorry, I usually speak pretty freely. I didn't mean to offend you. I mean I'm sort of a bastard too. All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes. Did you like that? Huh? That was a pretty goddamn profound statement, if I do say so myself. I'm full of deep shit like that. So why did you leave the feast?

Jon: Because I fucking hate everyone there. Why did you leave the feast?

Tyrion: Ditto.