ASoS 33: Samwell II

Bannen is dying. 

Sam: Who is Bannen again?

Don't worry about him too much. He's dying. 

Sam: Oh, okay.

Bannen is dying. Sam is feeding broth to him to keep him alive. But it's not looking good. Only about 40 or so brothers of the Nights' Watch survived and made it back to Craster's Keep. 

Sam: Oh wow. We're back in Craster's Keep?

Yep. 

Sam: Who else survived? Did Lord Commander Mormont survive?

Yes. But SHHH!!! Let's just get on with the chapter.

Craster: Ugh. I can't believe all you crows are back. I'm so tired of feeding you all.

Clubfoot Karl: Hi! I'm Klubfoot Karl! I've never really been mentioned before now. But I'd like to point out that I really HATE Craster. I bet he has tons of good that he's hiding from us.

Other Nights Watch Guys: Yeah! We're hungry!

Craster: Shut up! You're guests and I'm feeding you. I know it's not much. But you're invited into my house and I'm feeding you. So you follow my rules. And my first rule is SHUT UP.

Female Voice: AGHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Sam: What the hell was that?

Craster: Oh, it's just my daughter Gilly. She's giving birth.

Sam: You mean your wife Gilly?

Craster: Same thing.

Sam: Oh wow. What a coincidence. Last time I was here she wanted me to take her away with her because if she gave birth to a boy, you would give it away to the Others, AKA White Walkers. And -- by total narrative coincidence -- we just happen to be back at the exact time that she's giving birth.

Craster: Didn't I just say that my first rule was "shut up?"

Sam goes outside to woefully reflect on life. 

Sam: The Others haven't attacked here yet. But I bet they will soon. Although Craster says they won't come at all because he has "got right" with the gods. I wonder what exactly that means.

Grenn: Hey there Slayer, it means that as long as he sacrifices boy babies to the Others -- they will not kill him.

Sam: Ah. I see. And don't call me "Slayer." It's rude.

A bunch of other brothers come up. They are doing some archery and shit. 

Sweet Donel: HEY THERE, SLAYER! Show us how you killed that Other, Slayer! Hahahaha!

Other Dude: Yeah Slayer! Shoot this arrow and show us how proficient you are!

Sam: I hate those guys. They're mocking me.

Grenn: I mean... you did slay that Wight. Why do you think Slayer is an insult?

Sam: They're saying it sarcastically!

Grenn: Ah, well I'm not smart enough to get sarcasm. Or so Pyp always told me. Hey... where is Pyp?

Sam: He didn't come on the Great Ranging. He's been back at Castle Black.

Grenn: Oh, okay. Well, being called "Slayer" has to be better than being called, "Ser Piggy," right?

Sam: Right. But people keep shouting at me stuff like, "HEY SLAYER! PLAY HELL AWAITS!" or "Hey Slayer, no album you do will ever be better than Reign in Blood!" It gets annoying after a while.

Sam leaves without shooting any arrows. Because he knows he'll miss and they'll just mock him.

Sam: Most these guys don't even believe that I killed the Other with the Dragonglass. They think I'm lying. But it's the truth! Lord Commander Mormont believes me. It's too bad we left most of that Dragonglass behind that Jon found. When Jon brought it back to the Fist of the First Men, we kept some of it. Like my dagger. But the Lord Commander was all like, "What do we need all this old weapon shit for?" I wonder if it kills Wights like how it kills the Others. I wish Jon was here.

Lord Commander Mormont: Hey, I'm back motherfuckers. What are you whining about this time, Sam?

Sam: About the Dragonglass we found and left behind.

Mormont: Oh right. Actually it is a pretty fair point to whine about that. But we didn't know at the time that it killed the Others. But we SHOULD HAVE!

Sam: Huh?

Mormont: I'm saying that I bet that, at one time, the Night's Watch did know about that. That's why we were created in the first place, thousands of years ago. Do you think the Seven Kingdoms built a giant fucking wall and manned it with towers and guards to protect ourselves from a few roving gangs of Wildlings? No! Fighting the Others was always our true calling. We lost sight of that. The Wall was built with magic to defend ourselves from the armies of the dead. We used to know all about that stuff. But after the years we forgot. I bet somewhere in the archives and writings of Castle Black, there are records about Dragonglass. If only we would have read those records instead of filing them away to never be seen again... or to turn to dust as the centuries passed by.  Who do we have watching over those old books and scrolls? Fucking Maester Aemon. Do you know what he is? BLIND. What good is it to have a librarian that is fucking blind?

Craster: Hey everyone. It's me! I want to announce that that girl Gilly has stopped yowling like a cat in heat. Because she had a kid and it's a son.

Sam: Well, on the one hand I'm sort of relieved. Because if it was a daughter than one day when she turns twelve you'd probably rape and marry her. But on the other hand... since it's a boy... that means you're going to leave it out in the woods as a sacrifice to the Others. Which is also pretty fucked up.

Craster: My house. My rules.

Sam: I mean why not just let me have the baby if you're just going to throw it away like that?

Craster: What the FUCK did you just say?

Sam: I... uhm... err...

Mormont: SAM! SHUT THE HELL UP! Leave this man and his personal life alone! We have no part of this. How dare you talk to our host like that. Get the fuck out of here!

Sam leaves and goes back to where Bannen was. 

Bannen: *is now dead*

Sam: Oh. Well... I guess more broth for the rest of us then.

Dirk: It wasn't his wounds that killed Bannen! No! It was him being starved! Craster is starving us all!

Sam: Okay. Sounds like you're on the same page as that Clubfoot Karl gu.

They then burn Bannen's body because otherwise he might turn into a Wight. 

As his body burns, everybody smells it. 

Dolorous Edd: Mmm. It smells sort of like bacon cooking. Am I the only other person getting hungry?

Everyone Else, Except Sam: Mmmm! Yes! Bannen smells delicious!

Sam: *vomits everywhere in disgust*

Mormont: Well, that was messed up. But we've spent enough time here at Craster's Keep. Tomorrow we leave and head back for the Wall!

Edd: Oh great. We're probably all going to die.

Mormont: What a debby downer you are, Edd.

Craster shows up. 

Craster: WHAT? You're all leaving? SWEEEEEEEET! FUCK YEAH! I can't wait to get rid of you all! I hate you guys. Let's throw you a big "going away" party to celebrate you leaving! Don't you have a bunch of dead horses and stuff?

Mormont: Yes.

Craster: Well let's cook up those dead horses and you guys can celebrate with that!

And so Craster sets up a bunch of fires in his Keep and they cook up the dead horses. The meat is terrible and stringy. And it's definitely not enough for everyone.

Clubfoot Karl: This is terrible! It's not enough! We need more food!

Dirk: YEAH! I bet you're hiding food from us!

Other Guys: YEAH!

Mormont: Hey guy guys, shut the fuck up.

Craster: That's right. Do what your boss says and shut the fuck up. And every one of you that questioned me... GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! You were welcomed in under guest's rights and you're being rude to your host. SO FUCKING LEAVE!

Dirk: FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD!

Dirk pulls out a... well... dirk... and grabs Craster. He slits is throat. 

Sam: OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!

Mormont: YOU FUCKING IDIOT, DIRK! You're not supposed to kill our host!

Ollo Lophand: SHUT UP! It's you who got us into this mess, Lord Commander. Fuck you!

Mormont: Who the fuck is Ollo Lophand?

Ollo Lophand stabs Jeor in the belly.

Mormont: AGHHHH!!!!!

Sam: OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!

All hell breaks loose. 

Sam gets a giant case of PTSD and can't even remember the rest. It was chaos, rape and murder. All Sam can remember is that he grabbed the Lord Commander and dragged him away to somewhere safe. 

Sam: We'll get you back to the Wall, Lord Commander. You'll be safe! We'll get you all patched up!

Mormont: Ugh... I'm dying, you fucking idiot.

Raven: *squawk* DYING!

Mormont: Fuck you, Raven. Sam... Sam... you've got to get back to the Wall. You've got to tell them about dragon glass. Also... tell my son... tell him... tell him... *cough*... that he's a fucking slave-buying asshole. But I forgive him. And... *cough*... also... also.. You've got to... to... to... ughhhhhhhhhh....

Just then, three of Craster's wives walk into the room. 

Wife: Hey fasto. You're the one that wanted to kidnap Gilly, right?

Sam: Uhh... "rescue" is the term I'd prefer you use.

Wife: Yeah. Rescue. Kidnap. Whatever. While the rest of the Night's Watch  is running around stealing food and raping us... how about you take Gilly here and sneak off to the Wall with her?

Sam: I can't! I've got to take care of Lord Commander Mormont!

Wife: Dude, he's dead. Look.

Sam looks. Mormont is dead. 

Sam: FUCK!

Gilly: You've got to take me, Sam! You've got to take me and the baby before "they" do!

Sam: Who?

Raven: THEY! THEY! THEY! *SQUAWK*

Sam: Huh?

Raven: OTHERS! DIPSHIT!

Sam: Oh, right.

Wife: You better leave soon! I can feel them coming! Craster's OTHER sons.

Sam: Haha. Other Sons. I see what you did there.

Wife: The cold! I feel the chill coming in the air. Maybe it's because they can only come when it gets cold. Or maybe it gets colder because they bring the cold with them.

Sam: That second option sounds extremely worrisome. Yet somehow I also thing it's the correct option.

Wife: What I'm trying to say is GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

Sam: And what about the rest of you? Am I just going to leave you behind with all the rape and murder and looting?

Wife: Meh. I guess.

ASoS 32: Tyrion IV

Tyrion and Bronn ride their horses down to the remains of what was once the King’s Landing harbor. Needless to say, it’s not in such great shape following the battle against Stannis.
Bronn: Wait… why are we here?

Tyrion: I’m supposed to look at all the damage and begin plans to rebuild.

Bronn: Why are you the Kings Landing city planner? Why is that your job? I thought that your father appointed you as the new Master of Coin. Why does the treasurer of the kingdom suddenly become city planner?

Tyrion: Ah, well apparently it was something that my uncle Kevan was supposed to be doing. But he just had a complete mental breakdown after learning that one of his sons was just brutally murdered by some guy named “Karstark.” We got a raven from Riverrun where the King in the North, Robb Stark, admitted that one of his men killed Kevan’s son, a child hostage, in an act of petty revenge because Jaime Lannister killed one of his sons in battle. Robb Stark said that this was a dishonorable and treasonous thing, so apparently he executed this Karstark guy.

Bronn: That is a much longer answer than I expected, which included facts that I do not care about.

Tyrion: But anyway, since I am treasurer… I am going to complain about how expensive it will be to do all of this rebuilding. I mean look at it! Look how destroyed this place is!

Bronn: Wait… didn’t our side destroy most of this anyway? It wasn’t even Stannis. We tore this all down in advance of Stannis coming.

Tyrion: True. *grumble*grumble*

Bronn: Man, you seem like you’re in a bad mood. I guess your wife isn’t giving you any, huh?

Tyrion: Oh yeah, thanks asshole. Thanks for mentioning my marriage to Sansa Stark and the rumors that are spreading around everywhere that my wife refuses to sleep with me. I’m glad that the entire city of Kings Landing is making a big joke out of that and laughing at me.

Bronn: Well, anyway. Remember that guy you sent me to look for?

Tyrion: Yes.

Bronn: I found him.

Tyrion: Cool. Where is he?

Bronn: Right now? At a wine bar.

Tyrion: They have wine bars here? Sweet. Let’s go.

And so they go to a wine bar. And there they find…

Symon Silver Tongue: It’s me! Simon Silver Tongue!

Tyrion: Yes. We know. I came here specifically to see you.

Symon: Ah. Want to hear this cool song I wrote? *ahem* Here it goes… ♪♩ “Oh, I know this guy named Tyrion Lannister and he’s having a secret affair with a prostitute named Shae that is disguised as a handmaid for the Stokeworth family despite the fact that his father Tywin explicitly told him not to bring a prostitute into the city with him!”  ♪♩

Tyrion: That’s a song?

Symon: Yes.

Tyrion: It doesn’t even rhyme.

Symon: Yes. Well. It’s not really a song. What I’m doing is blackmailing you.

Tyrion: Oh, I get it.  And what do I have to pay you in order for you to not sing it again?

Symon: Well, I’d like to be one of the singers at King Joffrey’s wedding, for one.

Tyrion: They already have seven singers planned for the wedding. Seven is sort of a holy number. It would be strange if there were eight singers.

Symon: You can find a way to make it happen, I’m sure. But after that I will continue to find other things to ask of you. Because that’s how blackmail works. I continue to have information about you which you would like to prevent from being common knowledge. So you keep paying me off to keep it a secret. But after you pay me off, I still know it and you still continue to have value in me keeping it a secret. Which means I can continue to demand more and more from you. It can go on forever. It’s a great scheme! You’ve already paid me some amount to keep the secret, and so it’s always worth you paying just a little bit more to continue to keep it a secret after.

Tyrion: No. That’s the fallacy of sunken costs AKA escalation of commitments. This is exactly how the US fucked up so bad in Vietnam. I don’t agree with that. Especially when I have an alternative option to paying your blackmail money.

Symon: Alternative option? What’s that?

Bronn steps forward.

Bronn: Hi. My name is Bronn. I am a sellsword.

Symon: Yes, I know who you are.

Bronn: My job is literally that Tyrion pays me to kill people for him.

Symon: I don’t see what that has to do with this current situ…. Oh. Oh, I see.

Bronn: Come with me. I have something really cool that I want to show you that’s sitting at the bottom of a shallow grave in the desert.

Bronn leaves with Symon. Symon will never appear in A Jingle of Ice and Fire again, if you catch my drift.

Tyrion then goes back to the Red Keep, but along he way he’s summoned to Lord Tywin. There he finds the new Hand of the King inspecting two beautiful new Valyrian Steel swords.

Tyrion: Whattup, dad?  OH SNAP! Are those Valyrian Steel? The House Lannister hasn’t had a Valyrian steel sword in hundreds of years! Not since the Doom of Valyria. Way back in the day when the seven kingdoms were actually seven kingdoms… our Lannister king, King of the Rock Tommen II Lannister, has a sword called “Brightroar.” King Tommen II carried it with him when he sailed his great fleet to Valyria. But he, his fleet, and the sword never returned. It’s a great mystery whatever happened to him or the sword. We’ve even sent people to Valyria to look for it, but never found it. Since that time, the Lannisters have always wanted to get another ancestral Valyrian steel sword for the family. But we couldn’t make one since Valyrian steel is so rare and impossible to find. The only option was to try to use all of our gold to buy a sword from one of the lesser houses. But the swords are so rare that the lesser houses refuse to sell them as well!

Tywin: Yeah, thanks for that massive backstory data dump, son. Got anything else about the history of the Lannisters that you want to share right now?

Tyrion: Not really. So where did you get the metal to make the sword from?

Tywin: This dude.

He points at Tobho Mott.

Tyrion: Oh wow! Tobho Mott! The guy from book 1 that was Gendry’s boss?

Tobho Mott: YES! And FOR ONCE I had a Hand of the King who actually came to my blacksmith shop in order to BUY A FUCKING SWORD and allow me to make a profit. Here I am. Tobho Mott. A brilliant sword master. Maybe the greatest sword master in the world. I learned how to work steel in Qohor. I am one of the few blacksmiths in the world that knows how to work Valyrian steel. So the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn comes to me. What does he want? To give me patronage? To help me turn a profit? No. He wants to know about Gendry.  Then the next Hand of the King, Ned Stark, comes to me. What does he want? To give me patronage? To help me turn a profit? No. He wants to know about Gendry?  Although I guess I did get patronage from him in the end.

Tyrion: How so?

Tobho Mott: Well, the sword I melted down for metal was “Ice,” the Stark family sword. That big ass sword was big enough to make two normal swords.

Tywin: Yes. One for my son, and one for my grandson, the King.

Tyrion: One for your son? Awww… thanks dad, you shouldn’t have!

Tywin: Bitch, you KNOW I’m talking about Jaime.

Tyrion: Yes. I do. It’s kind of fucked up that you say “my son” like you only have one though. You couldn’t even spare a little metal to make a dagger for me?

Tywin: There was enough metal for two swords. No more. I figured that one sword should go to my son that is, you know, a FUCKING KNIGHT that knows how to use a sword. And the other should go to the King because… well… he’s the King. Ain’t nobody got time for an imp dagger. If you want a dagger so bad, go take one from King Robert’s war chest. He was always getting ceremonial daggers from people.

Tyrion: I don’t really want a dagger. If I have a dagger, Cat Stark will probably just blame me for some crazy murder attempt. Again. Anyway, the steel is super pretty. Good work, Tobho. It is sort of fucked up that you melted down Ned Stark’s sword though.

Tobho Mott: I suppose. I tried to get the sword to come out as a Lannister color. But this Valryian Steel is unpredictable. It has a mind of its own. 

Twyin: Indeed, Tobho. These will do quite nicely. ANYWAY… Tyrion… I summoned you here for a reason, Master of Coin. And it’s not to talk about how awesome Tobho Mott is.

Tobho Mott: Although if you DO want to talk about how awesome I am, you can keep going.

Tywin: GET OUT OF HERE!

Tobho Mott leaves.

Tyrion: Well father… if this is about the cost of rebuilding the harbor… I can tell you that it’s going to be A LOT. I was just inspecting it. There is nothing there. It’s ruins. Especially with the extravagant cost of this wedding for Joffrey. Do we really need that many courses of dinner and that many entertainers? I say cut back on this insanely expensive wedding and save a few bucks!

Tywin: What? No! We need an extravagant wedding. If we have a cheap wedding, the Tyrells will think us niggardly.

Tyrion: HOLY SHIT, dad. Do not use that word.

Tywin: What? You mean n-

Tyrion: --NO! Don’t say it again! Geez. Do you actually say that word in the books?

Tywin: Yes.

Tyrion: WELL DON’T!

Tywin: I don’t see what the problem is. The word has nothing to do with the racial slur. It’s simply an adjective meaning “stingy,” and it’s based on the middle English word “nigon,” which is itself is based on the Old Norse verb “nigla,” which means "to fuss about small matters." It has nothing to do with the Latin masculine adjective “niger,” meaning black or dark, from which the slur is derived.

Tyrion: Can you just say “cheap” in the future though?

Tywin: Can you just do your fucking job as Master of Coin and find a way to fund the new harbor? Littlefinger never complained about it like a little bitch. But you are. If you can’t do it then I’ll find a new Master of Coin who can.

Tyrion: Ugh. Okay… dad.

Tywin: And hurry up and put a baby in Sansa already.

Tyrion: It’s none of your business how I conduct my marriage!

Tywin: The hell it isn’t. We need a Lannister heir to Winterfell and we need it PRONTO. A marriage which hasn’t been consummated can be annulled.

Tyrion: Haha, speaking of fucked up, failed marriages… how about that awesome word we just got back from the Tyrells? You sent a message offering Cersei to marry Willas Tyrell in order to further bond the pact between the Lannisters and Tyrells. They responded with a letter back saying that Cersei was too old and used up. HAHAHA. THAT IS THE BEST.

Tywin: If you want to remain alive, I suggest that you never relay this story back to your sister. I know it’s tempting to gloat about it. But she will literally tear you apart with her hands.

Just then, Pycelle enters the room.

Pycelle: Oh, look who it is. The shitty-ass dwarf who threw me in jail. Well now I have my job back and you lost yours.

Tyrion: Shut up, Count Scarlioni. What are you doing here?

Pycelle: There is a message from Castle Black. It says that the Wildlings are moving south in vast numbers. Lord Commander Mormont is possibly dead. They request men be send to the Wall to help defend the kingdom. They apparently sent the letter to “all five Kings.”

Tywin: Hahaha… hilarious. Obviously news takes a while to get up there to the Wall. Also… No. Maybe I’ll think about it if they pick a side and are loyal to the one, true King… Joffrey!

Tyrion: Father, you know that the Watch is neutral about such things. Also, this letter sucks. I had dinner and drinks with Lord Commander Mormont. He seemed like a cool dude.

Tywin: I guess they’ll need a new Lord Commander then. If only we knew of someone with unquestionable loyalty to the Lannisters.

Pycelle: Ah, you mean someone like Janos Slynt?

Tyrion: JANOS FUCKING SLYNT? I sent him to the Wall because he’s a duplicitous traitor! He’d sell out anyone to the highest bidder! He and his Gold Cloaks LITERALLY went around murdering babies. You’re going to call him unquestionably loyal?

Tywin: As you said, he will sell out anyone to the highest bidder.  The Lannisters are the richest family in the Seven Kingdoms. Therefore it is unlikely that anyone will bid higher than us. Let us send a letter back to Castle Black that subtly hints about the fact that they will only get our support if they elect Slynt as the next Lord Commander. Let’s not be direct about it. Let’s be kind of sly and cryptic. Make sure they get the picture though.

Tyrion: Ugh. I should have had Slynt and Pycelle killed when I had the chance. I didn’t know any better back then. Now I do, which is why I’ve had Symon Silver Tongue murdered.  You always told me that I needed to learn my lessons, dad. Well see that? See how fast I have finally learned my lesson? Kill people who stand in my way! And I’m doing it now.

Pycelle: Dude, I’m standing right here.

ASoS 31: Jaime IV

Jaime is now a prisoner of the Bloody Mummers. He rides with him, with his severed stump where his right hand used to be. It hurts. It hurts like hell. He still has phantom pains where he can feel his hand too. But it’s not there at all.

The Mummers lead him and their other captive, Brienne, on a forced march back to Harrenhal. Jaime finds this ironic, as he won his White Cloak at Harrenhal. As they do so, they beat and taunt them both. They also do some pretty immature shit. Like this:
 
Bloody Mummer: Hey, are you thirsty, Jaime?

Jaime: YES! You haven’t given me a drink in two days!

Bloody Mummer: Ah. Okay. Have my canteen.

He hands Jaime a canteen. Jaime drinks it and begins to puke it right back up.

Jaime: UGH. That tastes like fucking horse piss!

Bloody Mummer: HAHAHA! That’s because it WAS HORSE PISS!

Jaime: By that I assume you mean Bud Lite?

Bloody Mummer: Yes.

Jaime: Say, which Bloody Mummer are you?

Bloddy Mummer: Eh, who cares? There are a bunch of us. Vargo Hoat, Rorge, Biter, Shagwell, and Zollo. But nobody really cares which one of us in particular is doing this shitty stuff to you.

Jaime: Hehehe. “Shag well.”

Bloody Mummer: And now I will do this to you.

The Anonymous Mummer kicks Jaime in the stump.

Jaime: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Needless to say, it hurts like hell.

Bloody Mummer: Also, wear this cool necklace.

But the necklace isn’t a necklace at all. It’s Jaime’s severed hand, tied to a string. The Mummer puts it around Jaime’s neck and he’s forced to wear it. Then Jaime and Brienne are tied up facing one another on a horse, with Jaime’s severed hand smothered between the two of them. They keep riding.

Jaime: Well, this is just the worst. Is this some sort of penance thing I must do for throwing Bran out the window?

Yes.

Jaime: So after that I’ll be redeemed and viewed as more of a fan-favorite character that people sympathize with?

It looks that way. Almost like people are totally willing to forgive you for pushing that kid out the window.

Jaime: It’s not like he died or anything. He was just crippled. It’s an endearing character trait. He’s like Drake in that Canadian High School show.

Brienne: It’s called “Degrassi High," Jaime.

Jaime: SHUT UP! Nobody asked you, you fucking cow!

Later, the two are unbound for a rest stop. Jaime uses this opportunity and grabs a sword.

Jaime: HAHA! I’ve got a sword now! I can destroy you all with my left hand!

Bloody Mummer: So you are going to fight us with your left hand… the hand you never have fought with before?

Jaime: Correct.

Bloody Mummer: Even though you are malnourished, sick, weak and have a massive infection on that stump of yours?

Jaime: Yes.

Jaime takes a swing. He misses. They kick in him the stump again.

Jaime: AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bloody Mummer: Dumbass.

Jaime winds tied up to Brienne again.

Brienne: Well that was stupid. Were you trying to get yourself killed?

Jaime: Yeah, pretty much. My life is basically over now.

Brienne: Wow, you’re such a fucking coward.

Jaime does a double-take.

Jaime: COWARD? COWARD?! Nobody has EVER called me a coward before! I was a teenage boy who took an oath to become a knight. I’ve fought in countless battle after battle. I’ve put my life on the line time and again. I took a chance and stabbed a murderous king that was executing people left and right with fire, despite not being 100% sure which side would actually win the war. I am probably the bravest person in Westeros.

Brienne: Well, not any more. You lost your hand and had to drink a little horse piss, and now you want to kill yourself over it. You’ve given up on life. You were a swordsman who lost your ability to use a sword and so now you’re a weepy bitch. Man up and grow a set. Don’t you still love your sister? Don’t you still have three bastard, inbred children that you love? Don’t you care about your dwarfy brother? Don’t you want to live to see them?

Jaime takes some time to reflect on that.

Jaime: You’re right… you’re right, Brienne! Wanting to die is cowardly. Just like Anthony Bourdain.

Brienne: Too soon. That one still hurts.

Jaime: I agree. Sorry. But you’re right! I need to LIVE! I don’t want to die anymore. I need to survive to see my family! Including my brother, who loves me for a lie. But more importantly… to get revenge! YES! REVENGE! I need to live so that I can become strong enough to kill everyone who has done this to me! One day, I’ll be back in Kings Landing. And I’ll be nursed back to health! And I’ll have a new hand made for me! A hand of gold! And I’ll strange Vargo Hoat to death with that gold hand!

Brienne: Okay, well…. Uhm… I was trying to get you to focus your desire to live in a more positive direction related to love and family. But I guess that revenge thing works too.  By the way, what exactly do you mean by the "your brother who loves me for a lie" line?

Jaime: Ah, well you see... remember that whole backstory about Tyrion falling in love with a girl named Tysha only for it to be revealed that she was a whore the whole time and had been paid off my me and my father to pop Tyrion's cherry? Then afterwards my dad made Tyrion watch Tysha get gangbanged?  Well... in reality she WASN'T a whore and she and Tyrion really did fall in love. But after my dad found out, he decided to ruin it because he's pretty much a 1-dimensional villain who hates his dwarf son for killing his wife in childbirth.  So it was actually true love, but my dad then paid Tysha tons of money (likely under threat of death, as well) to play along with him and ruin Tyrion's life. I pretty much had to go along with it and go with the lie.  But Tyrion's end-take on the story is that I was looking out for him and paid a whore to be with him to give him some momentary happiness in his life, only for our father to ruin it all by revealing the truth. When really that isn't the truth at all. But Tyrion doesn't hate me for the ordeal. He hates father. The whole situation is totally messed up.

Brienne: Fuck. And I thought I had issues with my dad just because I'm a tomboy.

Jaime then passes out. Because, you know, he’s violently sick with an infected hand that is probably going to kill him anyway.

Bloody Mummer: Well, type to rape the woman.

Other Bloody Mummer: I agree.

And so the Bloody Mummers (specifically Rorge, Shagell and Zollo) decide that they are going to gang rape Brienne.

Jaime wakes up as they descend on her.

Jaime: Don’t try to fight it, Brienne. They’ll make it even worse. They’ll beat you.

Brienne: Oh, I’m going to fight it alright.

Jaime: Damnit, you foolish woman! If there is only some way I can stop them from doing this. But remember what happens when you scream “RAPE!” Nobody does anything about it, because society is full of selfish monsters who don’t want to do anything. That’s why you’re supposed to scream “FIRE!” Instead. But then again, half the countryside is on fire. So nobody cares about fire either. So… uhmm…. SAPPHIRES! SAPPHIRES!

Vargo Hoat: Wait… why the hell are you shthreaming “thapphireth?”

Jaime: Well, half of it is to remind you what I told you early about Brienne being from the Isle of Sapphire. If Brienne is returned to her father unharmed… then you’ll be given a ton of sapphires as a reward.

Vargo Hoat: And the othhur halfth?

Jaime: I just wanted to hear you say, “thapphireth.”

Vargo Hoat: REALEAFTH THE WENCHTCH!

Bloody Mummers: Awww! AWW! But we wanted to rape!

Brienne: Wow. Thanks for defending me. Why did you do that?

Jaime: A Lannister always pays his debts.

Brienne: But I was literally just trying to drown you in a river a few chapters ago.

Jaime: Eh.I feel like we've connected so much, ya know.

And they keep going. Finally they arrive at Harrenhal, and see the Stark and Bolton banners hanging from the castle.

Vargo Hoat: Lord Bothon! I prethenth to you, Jaime Lannithsther!

Aenys Frey: Dumbass, I’m not Lord Bolton. He’s out getting leeched or something. I’m Aenys Frey.

Jaime: Heheheh. Anus!

Aenys: NO! DAMNIT! NO! IT’S NOT PRONOUNCED THAT WAY!

Jaime: Oh, you know it is.

Aenys: SHUT UP!  Anyway, I’m in charge while Lord Bolton is out.

Jaime: Ah, well Mr. Frey. My condolences to you.

Aenys: About what?

Jaime: Cleos.

Aenys: What about Cleos?

Jaime: You know. Cleos Frey. Your nephew. You are Lord Walder's third son. Lord Walder's second son was Emmon, who married my aunt Genna Lannister, and whose eldest child is... or was... Cleos.

Aenys: What about him?

Jaime: Ah, well he was just brutally murdered. By these guys right here.

Jaime points to the Bloody Mummers.

Bloody Mummers: *whistle innocently*

Aenys: IS THIS TRUE?!

Bloody Mummer: Well, I mean… TECHNICALLY he died in an accident when his horse went crazy and ran away, and he fell from his horse but got caught in the stirrups. And his head got battered against trees and rocks and the ground and shit. So it’s not like we killed him. Rocks and trees killed him. Or, arguably, his horse.

Aenys: And why was his horse scared and running? Why did the horse throw him off? Was it because you were attacking him and shooting arrows at him?

Bloody Mummer: *blushing* Maybe. I mean there were "outlaw archers" who shot at him in the books just a little bit before we showed up. I guess the book never explicitly says it was us that did it. It could have been another group of people that did that, and then by coincidence we happened to be nearby. We did totally steal all of Cleos's stuff from his dead body though. Our bad.

Aenys: Well, well, well. Do you know what I’m going to now that I learned this? Now that I learned that you… the Bloody Mummers… my own allies… have essentially or probably killed my nephew Cleos Frey?

Bloody Mummer: *gulp*

Aenys: Absolutely nothing. Because we Freys really don’t care about each other. As a matter of fact, it’s sort of cool that you killed one of my cousins. My dad Walder just won’t die. But one day he will. And one of us gets to inherit everything. The more of my cousins and nephews that die… the less competition.

Bloody Mummer: *whew*

Brienne: Aenys, ser, if I may… I should not be a prisoner! I have sworn my allegiance to House Stark! I am on your side!

Aenys: Stark? HAHAHA. Forget that nonsense. The Starks betrayed the Freys! I’m not on your side anymore.

Brienne: Uhh… what? But there are Stark banners hanging outside of the castle.

Aenys: We’re too lazy to take them down.

Brienne: Look, I know of no betrayal. What I do know is that Cat Stark sent me on this very important mission to return Jaime Lannister to King’s Landing in exchange for her daughters.

Aenys: Pffft. Whatever. Now I gotta figure out what the hell to do with you two until Lord Bolton gets back.

Lord Bolton: Hey, I’m back.

Aenys: Wow, that was fast.

Lord Bolton: So what the hell do we have here? OH SHIT, DAWG! Is that Jaime Lannister?

Vargo Hoat: Yesh, Lord Bolthon! My men havth capthured him! I plan to shend his thevered hand to Lord Tywin Lannishther as a warning and demand an ranshom!  Then, instched of giving him to Tywin, I thchall give him to Lord Karsthark inschted!

Bolton: The fuck you will. Lord Karstark is dead, beheaded as a traitor by Robb Stark. Our plans are changing. Haven’t you heard? A lot of things are changing. Stannis Baratheon was defeated at Kings Landing. And the marriage alliance between King Joffrey and Sansa Stark is off. The forces of Highgarden rallied behind the Lannisters at the Battle for Kings Landing and now Joffrey is betrothed to a Tyrell girl.

Jaime: Oh wow. Thanks for all the plot exposition, so now I can be caught up on the storyline that I missed while I was away on back roads.

Bolton: You’re welcome.

Jaime: But you said your plans have changed. What exactly is your new plan?

Bolton: Oh, you’ll see. But part of it means fixing you up. You need to be given a suitable room and I’ll have my maester, Qyburn, tend to that stump of yours. It’s infected. I could tell before I even came in the room. I smelled it before I saw it.

Jaime: Cool beans. You’ve got a Maester?

Bolton: Eh. Ex-maester, technically. He was actually expelled from the order for engaging in horrible, horrible Dr. Frankenstein-like experiments with dead bodies.

Jaime: Oh, cool. Sounds like exactly the type of person who should be giving people medical care.You sure you can't get me Conrad Murray or Harold Shipman?

And so Jaime goes to Qyburn.

Qyburn: Yikes. This infection is pretty bad. I’m going to have to cut your whole arm off.

Jaime: THE HELL YOU WILL. I WILL KILL YOU!

Qyburn: Dude. It’s infected. The risk is too much if I don’t. You could die.

Jaime: If I die… I die! Just cut off the infected bits and treat the rest with some Neosporin or something.

Qyburn: Okay, technically that hasn’t been invented yet. Also it's a brand name rather than a specific drug. Technically it's called Neomycin/polymyxin B/bacitracin. But I suppose if I only cut away the rotting flesh you have a CHANCE of living. If I get working right now.

Jaime: Then do it!

Qyburn: Here, have milk of the poppy first.

Jaime: NO WAY! If I take that opium then I’ll fall asleep and will feel nothing. Do you know what then?

Qyburn: Oh… are you worried that I’m like one of those dentists that puts my balls in my patients’ mouth when I knock them out? Because I don’t do that. Anymore.

Jaime: Gross. But no. If you knock me out, then I’m going to wake up WITHOUT AN ARM.

Qyburn: So you want me to cut away all your rotting flesh from your arm WITHOUT anesthesia?

Jaime: Pretty much. Hey! Wouldn't it be funny for Vargo Hoat to say, "anesthesia?"

Qyburn: You do realize how much doing this without milk of the poppy will hurt, right?

Jaime: Yes.

Qyburn: Do you realize it will hurt so much and be so painful that it will cause you to pass out? Then you’ll be in the exact same situation you would have been in if I had given you milk of the poppy. Passed out. Only if we do it the milk of the poppy way – you won’t feel the massive pain.

Jaime: I’ll take my chances.

Qyburn: Well… okay then… idiot.

Qyburn starts to cut at Jaime’s infected flesh.

Jaime: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jaime passes out.

Qyburn: Told you, idiot.

Jaime wakes up, hours later. He looks at his arm. It’s not completely cut off.

Jaime: Oh, thank the gods.

Qyburn: It was touch and go there for a bit. I thought you’d die for sure. But maybe you’ll be okay. You could still have infected blood though. I better put some leeches on you to suck out bad blood.

Jaime: Gross. Leeches. What is it with you guys and leeches?

ASoS 30: Jon IV

Ghost and Jon are now separated, and Jon has finally reached the Wall with Magnar and Jarl.  But they are nowhere around castle black. Instead, they are in a remote area far from civilization. 

Magnar: Okay men, spread out and keep watch for Crows. Jarl and his team of raiders will scale the wall.

Jarl: That’s right! Me and my men get to scale the wall first. Because I’m a super important character!

Magnar: Sure, if you say so.

They begin to climb the Wall.  Jon is starting to get anxious.

Jon: Oh man, this is getting crazy. Soon we’ll be over the Wall. And once we’re over the Wall, I’m supposed to prove my loyalty to the Wildlings by going around and killing people south of the Wall.  But I can’t do that. I know I’m on a secret assignment, given to me by the Halfhand, to infiltrate the Free Folk and gain their trust. And to be successful in that secret assignment I have to break my vows. Breaking my vows by having sex with Ygritte is one thing. But killing innocent people? That’s too far.  Maybe I should run and flee. Have I learned enough about the Free Folk and their plans? Probably. Right? Or maybe not. Because wasn't I supposed to find out more about this whole Horn of Jaromír Jágr... or whatever it was?  Also… if I run away and flee, then they’ll probably kill Ygritte. So should I try to take Ygritte with me? She probably won’t go. And even if she did go… what would happen to her? I can’t bring her back to Castle Black. There are no women allowed there!

Magnar: Wait… are you soliloquy-ing to yourself, Jon?

Jon: Uhhh…. Yes. Don’t worry about it.

And they continue to watch as Jarl and his men ascend. 

Jon: They are moving up pretty fast. Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this?

Magnar: Well, I don’t see any patrols. I think we’ll be safe. We should probably head up now.

Ygritte: Yes, I too was just thinking about how safe this whole thing is.

Then a giant chunk of wall breaks apart, right where Jarl and his men are ascending. They all fall to their deaths.
Jarl: AGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE IMPORTA—

*splash*

Ygritte: Yikes. Nasty. Just to be clear, that splash was not them landing safely in water. It was their bodies hitting the ground and exploding into piles of bloody goo and bones.

Jon: So you think that piles of bones and goo can come back as Wights?

Magnar: I’m not sure. Let’s burn them just in case. Also, because I hate Jarl. So out of spite I also want to burn his corpse.

And so the remaining part of the party gather up the dead bodies and set them on fire.

Ygritte: That wall is made of blood, I tell you!

Jon: No, it’s made of ice.

Ygritte: You know nothing, Jon Snow!

Jon: Actually, this time I’m quite aware of what I’m talking about. Ice is, by definition, frozen water. Sure, it can have different minerals or compounds in it, but it is the water (H2O) itself which freezes and—

Ygritte: --I WAS SPEAKING METAPHORICALLY.

Jon: Oh. Well okay then. What do we do now? Looks like it’s too dangerous to climb the Wall, what with it falling apart and killing everyone. What a shame! Now we can’t cross it and go murder all those innocent townfolk south of the Wall.

Magnar: No. We’re still going to climb it anyway.

Jon & Ygritte together: WHAT?!

And so another crew of teams begin to ascend the wall. Jon, Ygritte and the others join them.  Jon thinks about how he previously had to climb that mountainside with the Halfhand. But at least that mountain had an angle and was made from solid rock. This slippery, fragile ice is much, much worse.
Jon: Oh man! This is terrible! Remember how an entire book ago I was talking about how the Wall "weeps" in the autumn and gets all slippery and fragile? Well that was all just a long-game setup for this chapter. Fuck! We’re going to die for sure!

No you’re not. You’re a main character.

Jon: Oh right.

They reach the top of the wall.

Jon: *gasp*gasp*… I can’t believe we made it.

Ygritte starts crying.

Jon: Oh babe, what’s wrong?

Ygritte: I hate this stupid wall! It’s the worst! All of those guys died trying to climb it. And that was exhausting! What a waste! And plus we never found that Horn of Winter!

Jon: Say what now? One of the missions I was secretly tasked to do by the Watch was find out more about the Horn of Winter, AKA Horn of Jaromír Jágr – this legendary horn that could bring down the Wall.

Ygritte: You mean Horn of Joramun?

Jon: Whatever. I found a horn once. An unrelated horn, probably. I have it to Sam. Why am I mentioning that?

Ygritte: Well, we never found it. We looked through all these graves and all these other places but never found it.

Jon: Hrm. Interesting. Now that we’ve climbed the Wall we’ve finally reached a point in time where I’d now have to start killing innocent free folk on the other side if I were to stay with you all, continuing my infiltration mission. However, now that I’ve learned that the Wildlings have not found the Horn of Joramun, I feel like a large part of my infiltration mission has been achieved. Which makes me fleeing all of you an easier thing to do.

Magnar: Is the soliloquy-ing to himself again?

Ygritte: Yes

Magnar: UGH. I HATE WHEN HE DOES THAT.

ASoS 29: Arya V

The Brotherhood with Banners, with their hostages Arya and Gendry, arrive at the Stoney Sept.

Harwin: Ah, Arya. Welcome to the Stoney Sept. This is a pretty historic place. A great battle was fought here several years ago that included your father and Robert Baratheon. That’s before Robert was king. He was rebelling against the Targaryens.  The battle was called “The Battle of the Bells,” and Robert Battled the Hand of the King, Jon Connington. Robert himself killed six men, including Ser Myles—

Arya: Dude, nobody cares. That’s ancient history. Do you really think Jon Connington will ever be important in these stories? Besides, it looks like more recent battles have been fought here than that. I mean just look.

There are burned down houses and corpses laying all around.

Harwin: Ah, true.

They enter through the gates to the sept, which is really more of a city that has popped up around a sept than just a sept.

Gate Keeper: This girl speaks true. There has been much bloodshed here. Wolves and Mummers alike have been pillaging and raping the countryside.

Arya: Dude, stop listening in to my conversations. I was talking to Harwin, not you.

Gate Keeper: Sorry, I’m just here to drop plot exposition on you all. Have you heard that the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister has escaped?  Why! We should send the hounds after him and have them chew him to pieces!

Lem Lemoncloak: A dead Kingslayer is no use to us as a hostage.

As Arya walks through the town surrounding the Sept, she sees a number of men bound in tuiny cages that were designed for crows. They are in ROUGH shape. In addition to being crammed into small cages for birds, some of them have really bad injuries. Almost all of them are starving and near death. Some of them have festering wounds with maggots crawling over them and hideous eye infections.

Arya: What the hell did these Lannister guys do?

Random Townswoman: Lannister? Haha, no. These are Stark men.

Arya: Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?

Random Townswoman: Yes. They were sent to find the Kingslayer at Tumbler’s Falls. But when they didn’t find him, they started raping and murdering eight people.

Arya: This is really messing with the moral constructs I’ve built in my dead that Stark Loyalists = Good and Lannister Loyalists = Bad.

Harwin: What the hell have we been trying to explain to you for the last several chapters, Arya? War is hell and atrocities are committed on all sides.

Dying Man in Cage: Water… water… wa… wa…

Arya: Can’t we give the guy some water?

Random Townswoman: NO! Didn’t I just explain that he’s a rapist and murderer?

Arya: Look, usually I’m on the side of killing bad people. Or people who sort of annoy me. But this whole torture and suffering thing? That’s a little too sadistic even for me.

Harwin: Agreed. The Brotherhood without Banners isn’t about that torture lifestyle.

Arya goes and gets a pot of water and runs to dying man in the cage. He drinks it and lets it run down his sun-burned, puss-ridden body. Gendry and Harwin then help out and give water to others.

Anguy: Yeah, I agree with Arya. This is pretty messed up. Watching these guys slowly die. We should put them out of their misery. I wish someone would do something about this.

Greenbeard: Hey… isn’t your name ANGUY THE ARCHER?

Anguy: Oh yeah. Right.

Anguye pulls out his bow and arrow and mercy kills the men in the cages.

Arya: Valar Morghulis.

After this, everyone goes to an inn called “the Peach.”

Arya: Wow, an inn that is named after a slang term for vagina. What are the chances that this is just a brothel and Robert stayed here when he came through this town?

Tansy: Hi! I'm a prostitute named TANSY. *wink*wink* Get it? Tansy? I'm here to throw you off and make you think Hoster Tully's comments about "Tansy" might be about a girl named Tansy. But his comments were not. They were about Lysa Tully having an abortion after she slept with Littlefinger.

Bella: And Hi there, too! I’ll be your server! My name is Bella and I’m King Robert Baratheon’s bastard daughter. My mom was his favorite when he visited here.

Bella then begins to take all her clothes off and gives lap dances to the men.

Arya: Called it.

Bella: Oh hey there, big stud. What’s your name?

Gendry: Uhh… Gen… Gen… Gendry.

Bella: You’re cute. You look sort of familiar... in a comforting way. Even though I've never met you before. How about me and you go upstairs and I fuck your brains out? 

Arya: OH MY GOD I THINK I’M GOING TO VOMIT INTO A BAG. YOU TWO ARE BROTHER AND SISTER!

Gendry: Shhh! We don’t know that yet. So far in the plot I am unaware who my father is. But still. This grosses me out because I’m afraid of girls. So I will run away now.

He runs away.

Bella: Who’s ready for a WET T-SHIRT CONTEST? WOOOOO!!!!

She takes out a water hose and starts dousing everyone.

Arya: Eww. Gross! A bath? But I just had a bath a few weeks ago at Lady Smallwood’s place! Nasty!

Arya really hates bathes. Anyway, she gets cleaned up and is given new clothes. These are women’s clothes, which Arya hates because she’s such a tomboy.

Dirty Old Man: Hey there little girl. Are you one of the workers here? How about I take you upstairs?

Arya: Gross. I am ten years old.

Dirty Old Man: Hahaha, nice. The younger the better! Let’s go and—

Gendry then comes back and cold stone knocks that perverted motherfucker out.

Arya: Thanks.

Gendry: No problem.

Arya: But I could have handed it myself.

Gendry: Yeah, probably by murdering him, you sadistic sociopath.

Arya: NUH UH!

Gendry: You totally would have.

Arya: SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!

This time Arya storms off. She always gets angry when she fights with Gendry and she doesn't quite understand why. Just like she's not quite sure why she just cockblocked him. But the real reason is that she totally has the hots for him. 

Arya: HEY!

She eventually goes to bed. But she recites her list of people she wants to murder before going to bed. It’s comforting to her. Like counting sheep. Except murder.

Arya: Joffrey Baratheon, Chiswyck, Gregor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Dunsen, Queen Cersei, Amory Lorch, Ilyn Payne, Polliver, Raff, The Tickler, Meryn Trant, Weese.

Gendry: Oh, so the crossed out ones are already dead?

Arya: Yep.

Gendry: 3 out of 13? Not bad. You're making some progress.

Arya: I am.

As Arya sleeps, she dreams of wolves. And by “dreams” I mean she wargs into Nymeria. Nymeria leads a pack of she-wolves to a horse and they kill it and eat it. It’s delicious.

The next morning she’s awoken by the sound of barking dogs. She goes out the window and sees that the Brotherhood without Banner has captured a prisoner.

Huntsman, a Member of the Brotherhood: Hahaha! Look who we caught! This bloody Lannister bastard!

Gendry: Oh SHIT! Is that Jaime? Have they caught the Kingslayer?

Arya squints and looks as they get closer.  Then she sees who it is.

Arya: Oh, it’s not Jaime! It’s someone much, much better! The gods heard my prayers after all!

Gendry: So are you going to tell me who it is?

Arya: No.

Gendry: Why not?

Arya: It’s a better cliffhanger.

ASoS 28: Sansa III

Sansa is putting on her new dress that Cersei ordered for her when the Queen herself comes into the room.

Sansa: Oh Queen Cersei! This dress is so beautiful! It’s amazing!

Cersei: Yes, it is. You look stunning. It’s a shame that it’s going to be wasted on you marrying that ugly little gargoyle.

Sansa: Wait… what?

Cersei: You heard me.

Sansa: Uhhh….

Sansa wonders if Cersei somehow found out about her planned marriage to Willas Tyrell. Was Willas really an ugly gargoyle? Sansa knew he was sort of lame, but didn't think that--

Cersei: --You’re marrying my shithead dwarf brother.

Sansa: WHAT?!

Cersei: Well… come on.

Sansa: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN COME ON?

Cersei: I mean COME ON. You’re getting married. RIGHT NOW!

Sansa: I’M GETTING MARRIED TO TYRION RIGHT NOW?! I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST A DRESS FITTING!

Sansa turns and tries to run, but as she goes for the door – Meryn Trant and Osmund Kettleback stand and block the way.

Trant: I will SMACK THE SHIT out of you, bitch.

Osmund: There is no need for that, Meryn. Come on now, Sansa. You’re a wolf, right? Wolves are supposed to be brave.

Sansa: Ah, well when you put it like that you seem like less of a duplicitous monster, Osmund. I guess I really don’t have a choice, do I?

Sansa is not happy about this. Not happy at all. But then again… Tyrion is not as bad as the rest of the Lannisters. Which is sort of like saying Mobutu Sese Seko is not as bad as the rest of the totalitarian African dictators propped up by Western governments who turned a blind eye to genocide.  But I digress.

Sansa is escorted to the Sept. Outside, King Douchenozzle is waiting.

Joffrey: Hahaha, hey Sansa. You know how your father is supposed to walk you down the aisle? Well, I cut his head off.

Sansa: Technically you’re too big of a pussy to do that yourself. Ilyn Payne cut his head off.

Joffrey: GRRRR. ANYWAY, in your dead father’s place I’ll walk you down the aisle. Since I’m the FATHER of the kingdom.

Sansa: NOOOOO!

Joffrey: You’ll do as I say or I’ll marry you to Ilyn Payne.

Sansa: Is that supposed to be some sort of threat to get me in line? Because honestly Ilyn Payne seems like it would be better than Tyrion. At least he can’t talk back then. You know, since his tongue has been cut out.

Joffrey: SHUT UP OR I’LL—

--Tyrion walks into the Sept.

Tyrion: Sansa, my apologies for this farce. I want this no more than you do.

Sansa: Well that seems highly unlikely.

Tyrion: What are you trying to say?

Sansa: I’m saying that I’m a physically attractive teenage redhead that has just had a growth spurt into an amazing hot body. And you’re a dwarf with different color eyes, a cut off ear and missing half of your nose. You’re also probably full of STDs from all the whores you always visit. So saying you’re as uninterested in marrying me as I am uninterested in marrying you is almost guaranteed to be not true.

Tyrion: You know, those are some pretty harsh words. But when you put it like that I can’t say you’re not right. Anyway. If you refuse to marry me, they are going to marry you to Lancel.

Sansa: I don’t want to marry any Lannister.

Tyrion: True. At least I’m not that shitface Joffrey.

Joffrey: HEY! I’m right here. And I’m THE KING!

Tyrion: Literally nobody gives a shit.

Sansa: You have been… kind… to me. Come on. Let’s just get this shit over with.

They walk together into the Sept. As she walks in, she sees that none of the Tyrells are here. They probably don’t even know this is happening.

Here in Westeros, there is a marriage ceremony called “The Changing of the Cloaks,” where the Father/King must take off Sansa’s “maiden” cloak and her new husband must put on one another to symbolize their new marriage. Joffrey pulls off Sansa’s cloak and cops a feel in the process.

Joffrey: Hahahaha! Boobies!

Sansa: You wouldn’t know what to do with them if you ever got further than second base, you pathetic loser.

Now it’s Tyrion’s turn to put the marriage cloak on. But Sansa is tall. Tyrion is very, very short.

Tyrion: Can you please bend down so that I can put the cloak on your shoulders?

Sansa: Nah.

Tyrion: What do you mean “nah?”

Sansa: It means I won’t

Tyrion: But here I am. Trying to put a cloak on you. But I can’t. It’s super embarrassing. Everybody in this place is laughing at me and pointing. I’m totally being humiliated.

Sansa: That sounds like a personal problem to me.

And thus Sansa still remains a giant cunt.

Sansa: HEY! FUCK YOU, NARRATOR! I’m being forced against my will to marry a man I don’t love. A man who I find physically repulsive. A man who is part of the family that murdered my father and all his bannermen that I grew up with in Winterfell.  Did this particular guy show me open animosity or treat me poorly? No.  But does that mean I’m supposed to be happy about the situation and put up no resistance to a forced marriage.

Okay. Okay. Jeez, Sansa. I’m sorry. I take it back.

Sansa: That’s what I thought.

Joffrey: HAHAHA! This is hilarious. Look at Uncle Dwarfy be humiliated. This is so funny!

It goes on for longer. Then Joffrey gets bored.

Joffrey: Okay. Dontos you stupid piece of shit. Come over here and be a human stepping stool.

Dontos runs over. Tyrion steps up on his back and puts the cloak over Sansa.

Septon: You may now kiss the bride.

Tyrion goes in to kiss Sansa, and Sansa starts crying.

Later that night is the wedding feast. Finally the Tyrells have shown up and been invited. But all the Tyrell women who acted like they were her best friend a few chapters ago now suddenly give her the cold shoulder.

Sansa: Well, this is fucking awkward.

Tyrion: It is.

Sansa: So… uhm… do you want to dance or something? I really don’t want to. But I think it’s expected.

Tyrion: Nope.

Tyrion pulls out a bottle of Smirnoff and downs the entire thing all at once, just like Chris Holmes, lead guitarist of W.A.S.P. in The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years.

Sansa: I am way too young to get that reference.

Ser Garlan Tyrell: Excuse me… Sansa. If your husband will not dance with you… how about me?

Sansa: Oh, that’s so sweet, Garlan. I’m glad you’re not shunning me like the Tyrell girls.

Garlan: I know you wanted the marriage to Willas to work so that you could escape King’s Landing. But it looks like the Lannisters plot worked faster than ours. And I see how you look at my other brother, Loras.

Sansa: Yeah. I would destroy that. I would hop on him and ride him until he’s broken.

Garlan: Uhm… okay… that’s a bit explicit. Look, Tyrion isn’t that bad of a guy.

Tyrion: I’m a full-blown alcoholic. I’m a piece of crap.

Tyrion falls out of his inflatable chair and into the pool.

Garlan: Oh. We’re still doing those Decline of Western Civilization jokes, huh? Anyway – he’ll be a fine husband.

Sansa dances with him and dances with a few others. Finally ol’ King fuckwit walks up.

Joffrey: TIME TO DANCE WITH ME!

Sansa: No thanks. I’d rather die.

Joffrey: Oh, that can be arranged. But not before I bang you. Just because you’re marrying my uncle doesn’t mean I can’t use my right of jus primae noctis.

Sansa: The practice of jus primae noctis, or of a king in medieval Europe sleeping with brides, is largely considered to be a myth invented by Victorian-era scholars. It’s not actually a thing.

Joffrey: Oh, it’s a thing sure enough. A thing I’m going to do. And don’t act like it’s TOTALLY a myth. Similar practices are depicted in the Epic of Gilgamesh. It was even practiced in the 20th century in Zaire by Mobutu Sese Seko, who would travel to local villages where the tribes would offer him virgin women. It was considered a great honor.

Sansa: What the fuck? Is this the second Mobutu reference of this Chapter? Why the hell is Mobutu coming up so often?

Laurent Kabila: Don’t worry, the Mobutu references won’t last much longer. I’ll take care of that. I'm in charge now!

But then Kabila’s own bodyguards assassinate him.

Sansa: Jesus Christ, are we going to stick with my narrative chapter here or dive further into a fucking college essay on turn-of-the century Congolese history?

Joffrey: You know what? Forget dancing! I want to see the BEDDING CEREMONY!!!!

Crowd: WOOOOO!!! YEAH! BEDDING CEREMONY! WOOOO!!!

Joffrey: This involves the male guests at this wedding party all grabbing you and stripping you naked. Then we carry you off  to your bed and all watch as my uncle fucks you.

Crowd: WOOO!!! THIS SOUNDS LIKE FUN! OUR SOCIETY AND ITS TRADITIONS ARE COMPLETELY HORRIFIC!

Sansa: NO! NO! I REFUSE!

Joffrey: YOU WILL DO IT! I’ll execute you.

Tyrion pulls himself out of the pool.

Tyrion: The hell she will. The only one around here who is going to die is you. Rashidi Muzele, give me that gun!

Rashidi Muzele, Kabila’s Duplicitous Bodyguard and Assassin: Okay.

Sansa: STOP WITH THE HISTORY LESSON!

Lord Tywin: ENOUGH! ENOUGH OF THIS ALL!

Joffrey: Grandpa! Grandpa! Did you see that? Tyrion threatened to kill me! He got that gun from Rashidi Muzele.

Tywin: Tyrion is just drunk and making a silly joke. Isn’t that right, Tyrion?

Tyrion: What? Oh… yes. A joke. That’s right. A silly joke.

Tyrion throws the gun away.

Tyrion: Hahaha. JUST KIDDING!

Joffrey: NO! He was going to—

Tywin: --SHUT UP, KID. It seems the bride and groom are very tired. They will go to their bedchamber now.

Joffrey: Bedding Ceremony?

Tywin: No. There shall be no bedding ceremony.

Joffrey: BUT I WANT A BE—

Tywin: --And I want a grandson who isn’t an inbred, cowardly fucking monster. We don’t always get what we want.  Tyrion… take that Stark girl and consummate the marriage. I want a Lannister baby put in that belly ASAP so that we have a nice, suitable heir to Winterfell in the bread basket.

Sansa: Wow, how romantic.

Tywin: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO WHAT I SAY! I AM THE REAL FUCKING POWER HERE!

And so Sansa and Tyrion go back to their bed chamber. Because Lord Tywin is absolutely right.

Sansa, disgusted, begins to do what she knows she has to do.

Sansa: So, should I begin to take my dress off then?

Tyrion: Not yet. Let me tell you about my first wedding to Tysha.

Sansa: Oh, I didn’t know you were married before.

Tyrion: I was. To a whore.

Sansa: Yeah, that sounds more like you.

Tyrion: You see, it was years ago when I met—

Sansa: --Actually, I don’t want to hear this story at all. It’s best if you just not talk at all. And how about we turn the lights off so I don’t even have to look at you?

Tyrion: Fine. Whatever. Just get naked and get in bed.

She does so, and he starts to touch her. He can tell that she’s frozen solid – in fear and disgust.

Tyrion: No. No. I can’t go through with this. I’ll wait to consummate the marriage until you actually want to.

Sansa: Well, then we’ll never consummate it then, I guess.

Tyrion: Never?

Sansa: You fucking heard me.

ASoS 27: Daenerys III

The last we saw Dany, she was morally torn about this whole “buying slaves” thing. She was back on her boat and brooding about her difficult choice. Now Dany has decided to go back to the “Good” Masters of Astapor (a name they probably came up with ironically) to tell them her decision.

Dany: I’ll buy all of them.

Kranznys: [In Valyrian] What did this dumb bitch say?

Missandei: [Valyrian, you get the picture] She said she wants to buy all of them.

Kranznys: Ask that blonde, fake Queen cunt to be a little more specific because her simpleton, cave man words don’t really translate well.

Missandei: Kranznys kindly asks your grace to be more specific about your pleasant offer.

Dany: All of them. Every one. How many do you have?

Missandei: Eight Thousand, Six Hundred.

Dany: Then I want all 8600. And the ones in training too. The boys.

Missandei translates that back to the Masters of Astapor. The masters then begin to debate.

Fat Grazdan: What the hell? If she buys ALL of our merchandise then we won’t have any more for TEN years!

Tall Grazden: True.

Kranznys: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Grazdan: Don’t talk to me in damn metaphors!  Besides, you know we don’t sell the kids. They’re not ready yet.

Kranznys: Okay, fine. Tell that stupid whore “no.”

Missandei: The Masters deeply apologize that they are unable to accommodate your offer to sell all the boys as well, as it is against company policy to sell the ones still in training.

Dany: No. I’ll have those too.

Missandei reluctantly translates.

Kranznys: No way. Those kids aren’t worth that much now as just boys. If we save them until they grow up and become warriors, they’ll be worth more.

Missandei translates that back to Dany.

Dany: I will pay just as much for the boys as I do the men. The full price if I can have them all. Or better yet… tell them I will pay double. Triple! Quadruple!

Missandei translates that.

Kranznys: Wow, this dumb bitch is really bad at bargaining. She should have just stopped at “double” and waited for us to counter offer that that wasn’t enough. But then she jacked it all the way up to quadruple!

Spiked-Beard Grazdan: I’m not sure this bitch even has the money to pay for this all. It’s one thing to promise to pay us. But can she actually?

Fat Grazdan: True.

Kranznys: Wait… am I the only Good Master of Astapor that’s not named “Grazdan?”

Tall Kranznys Yes.

Spiked-Beard Grazdan: Well, I mean why bother coming up with different character names if we're all going to be burned alive by the end of the chapter anyway?

Fat Grazdan: Yeah, good poi---WAIT, what did you say? 

Missandei: Good Queen Daenerys, the Good Masters of Astapor wonder if you have any Credit Score or other proof of an ability to pay. Payments up front in coin are always appreciated, but if you have a pay check that shows a steady monthly income, we would also be willing to consider a monthly payment setup.

Dany: Oh, you know exactly how much money I have. Your men already went through my boats the other day and counted all of my goods.

Missandei translates.

Kranznys: Yes, this is true, cunt bitch. We searched through all your cheap-ass, gaudy possessions. You only have the ability to pay for 500 fully-trained Unsullied. If you throw in that fuck-shit costume jewelry that you call your crown, I could probably melt enough gold out of it to make it 600. But then I’m being generous with you. If you give me a sloppy blowjob, I could jack that up to 650.

Missandei: The Good Masters say that you can afford 500 Unsullied. Or 600 if you also throw in your quite-lovely crown.

Dany: I will keep my crown, but they can have my ships.

Missandei translates.

Spiked-Beard Grazdan: Hahh, what an idiot. This stupid girl really is dumber than a brick. She wants to buy these soldiers to go conquer the Seven Kingdoms. That’s across the sea. And she wants to SELL HER SHIPS to get them? What a maroon!

Kranznys: Yes, this bitch is dumb, but those ships are pretty awesome. They’re probably worth three thousand slaves, but don’t tell her that. Offer her two thousand.

Missandei: The Good Masters will give you 2,000 men if your ships are included, no more.

Dany: No. I will have all of the Unsullied. All 8,600 as well as all the boys in training. Give me them all… and I will give you… a DRAGON.

Not Barristan: WHAT THE FUUU------

But before “Not” Barristan can even swear, Missandei has already quickly translated and Kranznys has jumped up from his seat.

Kranznys: YES! YES! YES! FUCK YES! YEEEESSSS!!!

Not Barristan: My Queen, please! You CANNOT do this!

Dany: Oh SHIT NO, Not Barristan. Your punk ass is going to tell me what I CANNOT do? Jorah, escort him out of here!

Jorah: Heheheh. YEAH! Dany is finally seeing things my way. She wants to buy slaves and is giving Not Barristan the boot. This is sweet!

Shamed and humiliated, Not Barristan is taken back to the ships.

Kranznys: I want the big dragon, too! The black one. Simply because I know you like it the most. You like the big, black ones. Huh, cunt? Hahahaha. And just to be clear, I'm talking metaphorically about penises.

Missandei: The Good Masters request the black dragon.

Dany: You have a deal.

Kranznys: And throw in this stupid slave translator bitch as a bonus buy too. Because fuck her in her stupid ass.

Missandei: The Good Masters say that you may also have me.

Dany: Okay, cool. Come back to the ship with me. I need to go get my Dragon and prepare things for the sale tomorrow morning.

And so Dany goes back to the ship.

There she joins Not Barristan and the others.

Dany: Bitch, I appreciate your wise advice. But if you EVER question me in front of everyone else again in public…

Not Barristan: I’m so sorry, your grace. But if I may be frank now that we are in private… you have been ripped off! No amount of slaves is worth a dragon! There are only three dragons in the world. You must find another way.

Dany: Whatever. [In Valyrian] Hey… new slave girl that I just bought… what was your name again?

Missandei: Oh, I’m Missandei and I…. OOHHHHHHH HOLY SHIIIIIIIT. Did you just speak to me in High Valyrian?

Dany: Yes.

Missandei: So you could speak in High Valyrian the entire time?

Dany: Yes.

Missandei: So you heard EVERYTHING that the Good Masters said about you?

Dany: Yes.

Missandei: And then you heard me clean it all up when translating?

Dany: Yes.

Missandei: Those guys are pretty fucking rough, huh?

Dany: Yes.

Missandei: I’m sorry about all that. But, you know, I was their slave. I had to. But now I guess I’m your slave.

Dany: No, you are not.

Missandei: Sure I am. They gave me to you.

Dany: They did, but you are not my slave. Because as of this moment… I free you!

Missandei: Oh… SWEET! Is there any paperwork involved or anything?

Dany: No. You’re free now. That’s all there is to it. Free to do whatever you want. Go find your family. Sail back to whatever island you came from.

Missandei: Is that how it is, huh? You’re saying because I’m black I gotta be from some island or some shit, huh?

Dany: I… uhm… sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you… I was just—

Missandei: --Hahaha, nah. Just kidding. I’m from an island. It’s called Naath, the Isle of Butterflies in the Summer Sea.

Dany: Well, I guess you can leave now. Bye.

Missandei: Nah, I’ll stick with you. You seem cool. I really have nowhere else to go. Most of my family has already been kidnapped and sold into slavery like me. My three brothers are all in that army you’re about to buy. They say the people from Naath make the best slaves. Which is a pretty fucked up thing for anyone to say or think, right?

Jorah: I don't know. Sounds like a normal thing to say to me.

Dany: So… Missandei of Naath, you told me that the Unsullied obey their masters without question. Is that true or was that just bullshit to sell them?

Missandei: It’s 100% true.

Dany: So once I’m their master… they will obey me and only me? They will no longer obey the Good Masters of Astapor?

Missandei: Yep.

Dany: Sweet. Well, no use buying all those slaves right now. Let me sleep on this decision and go back tomorrow.

Dany goes back to her bedchamber for the night. Of course fucking Jorah bursts in.

Dany: DUDE, STAY AWAY FROM MY BEDCHAMBER, YOU CREEPER!

Jorah: Seriously, I promise I’m not getting molest-ey this time. I just wanted to thank you for knocking Not Barristan down a few notches. That was so sweet. I’m glad you joined me on “Team Slavery!” Yeah, give me a high five! Don’t leave me hangin’!

But she leaves him hanging anyway.

Dany: *sigh* Being a ruler is tough. We have do make these decisions about life and death. Slavery. Selling our dragon children. Why do the gods make kings and queens if not to protect those who cannot protect themselves?

Jorah: Gods don’t make kings and queens, we do. Robert made himself a king by winning a war.

Dany: Robert was no true and just king. But I will be a true and just queen! Anyway, thanks for you reminding me of the guy who murdered my brother. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares about that tonight.

Sure enough, Dany goes to sleep and dreams of Rhaegar on the Trident. But she’s woken from her dream by the sound of someone creeping in her room.

Dany: JORAH!!!

Quaithe: To go north, you must journey south. To go west, you must journey east. To go forward, you must journey back.  To do the electric slide, you must first do the funky chicken. To touch the light, you must go beneath the shadow. It's always darkest just before the dawn. To save Gotham, we must first destroy i--

Dany: --Wait… Quaithe? Quaithe the least interesting and important character from Qarth? The one who everyone immediately forgot about as soon as the last book ended? What are you doing here? Why are you telling me riddles about opposite day? What is that supposed to mean?

But she looks around. Quaithe is no longer there. Was it all a dream?

Dany: I need to lay off that melatonin. It’s giving me some whack dreams.

The next morning, Dany and her crew (including Drogon) go to the Astapor plaza, where the big slave deal is about to go down.

Dany’s crew brings all the wealth and riches from the ships and lays them before the good masters. But they don’t care about that shit. Kranznys just wants that D.

Kranznys: That’s right! Give me that big, black D! And by that I mean dragon! Not dick. This time.

Dany begins to walk up the stairs to Kranznys, with Drogon on a chain.

Kranznys: Oh, this is going to be so fucking sweet. My own pet dragon! Awesome. Oh, and a little friendly advise for your stupid, cunt ass. You’re going to want to blood these soldiers quickly. Find some nearby small town and just order the Unsullied to murder everyone there.

Dany: [In Valyrian] Okay Kranznys, whatever you say.

But Kranznys is too excited about getting the dragon handed to him that he doesn’t even notice that Dany answered in High Valyrian.

Dany hands over the chain to Kranznys. Kranznys pulls out an ornate, ceremonial whip.

Kranznys: Once I had this over to you… this ceremonial whip will officially represent that the slaves now belong to you and not me. Got it?

Dany: Okay, I get it. So when I’m handed the whip… the slaves now belong to me and obey me? Not you!

Kranznys: Correct. The slaves will obey you. Not me. You will own them. You can order them to do whatever and they must obey you.

Dany: Hahaha, sweet.

Kranznys: I simply ask that you don’t order them to immediately murder all the Good Masters of Astapor, including me. I mean I guess technically you COULD do that… but it wouldn’t be cool. That’s totally… like… against the spirit of this whole transaction.

Dany: Sure. Sounds fair enough. I will not do that.

Kranznys hands her the whip.

Dany: So the slaves are mine and obey me?

Kranznys: Yes. Hey… wait… what the FUCK? Have you just been speaking to me in Valyrian for the last minute?

Dany: Yes.

Kranznys tries pulling on Drogon’s chain to get him to come along.

Kranznys: Why won’t this stupid Dragon obey me?

Dany: Because a Dragon is no slave.

Dany whips Kranznys in the face.

Kranznys: AGHHHH!!! FUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK! What the hell? Are you about to order all the slaves to murder us?

Dany: Yes.

Kranznys: WHY?! YOU JUST PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T.

Dany: Because I had a vision… a vision from Quaithe. And she told me that today… IS OPPOSITE DAY!  Also… DRACARYS!!!!!!

On the High Valyrian command of “fire,” Drogon flies up and burns Kranznys to death.

Kranznys: AGHHHHH!!!! FUCKING OPPOSITE DAY!

Fat Grazdan: Unsullied! Protect us! Protect us!

Spiked-Beard Grazdan: Yes, you stupid pieces of shit! We are your masters.

Dany: Nope. Remember that I bought them. They work for me now. UNSULLIED! I order you to kill the Good Masters, their guards, and all the slave owners. Free every slave you see! Oh… and also… you’re all free now too! So really it’s your choice if you want to kill them or not. But I think I know how you feel.

And so the Unsullied begin to kill all the Masters of Astapor.  Rakharo, Aggo, Belwas, Jorah, and Dany’s other dragons join in too.

Dany: FREEDOM! DRACARYS! DRACARYS!

And the whole of Astapor is filled with fire, smoke and blood. Slavers run crying and begging and dying.

It sucks. Hahaha, no just kidding. It’s opposite day. It is AWESOME.