A Dance With Dragons in 30 Minutes (Part I)
Well some of you are crazies and asked if I was ever going to do this... and lo, I did. >.> I make no promises as to quality of recap or humor, so read at your own risk.
A DANCE WITH DRAGONS IN 30 MINUTES
NOTE: I considered waiting 3.5 years after the book was released but I’m stuck at home sick and with writer’s block so my misfortune can be yours too. Standard Fanfic/Satire Disclaimer being that this is not-for-profit, I am not GRR Martin, etc.
Now, the previous installments can be found HERE. I am not posting them or this to any other communities but you can hand out the link to your hearts’ content and do let me know if you icon some phrases cause I like the ego boost. Also: I may get disgusted with trying to work with LJ’s @$$hat Rich Text Editor and put the whole thing in a public GDoc or something, and just put the link here. Okay, that’s done. Let’s go see who’s dying!
[we are... BEYOND THE WALL! Are you ready for this jelly? I don’t think you’re ready...]
Varamyr: I hate dying. Thistle, baby, Imma warg you.
Thistle: !!!!
Poor Dead Haggon: ABOMINATION!
Ice-Borg: *MURDERIZE*
Poor Not-So-Dead Varamyr: THEY CAN TAKE MY BODY BUT THEY’LL NEVER TAKE MY WOLF!!
Ice-Borg Thistle: I SEE WUT U DID THURR.
PNSD Varamyr: … ho shit.
Fans: … THE BORG REMEMBER? O_O
[Somewhere, across the sea, Tyrion’s questing to find a place of Hookers, or a neverending supply of booze, either way]
Tyrion: *is drunk*
Varys: I cannot even with this. Illyrio, you deal with it.
Illyrio: Tyrion? Have a shroom.
Tyrion: Where do whores go?
Illyrio: STFU, Tyrion.
[Meanwhile, Dany is still hanging in Meereen because... because she is, all right? Geez, who are you, her parents?]
Sons of the Harpy: *are stab-happy bitches*
Barristan: Another dead eunuch? Has no one invented forensics yet?
Dany: Where’d we stick Cadfael again? Or Grissham? Even a Horatio. I’ll take a Horatio…
Grey Worm: These ones will try!
Barristan: … I suspect CSI: Meereen will not get a second season.
Dany: Yeaaah… the conquering was way more fun than governing… Ooh, hot guy!
Fans: You pick the damnedest times to remember you’re 16.
Reznak: Speaking of CSI and murdering, I brought you this dude with this sack full of bones…
Dany: Bad Dragons! No biscuits! You’re going to your rooms to think about what you’ve done! Now instead of having someone hunt up stuff on dragonlore I’m going to go angst about wearing stupid tokars and trying to govern a city populated by lunatics.
Fans: Oh, honey. Just wait til you meet Westeros.
Boltons: AIn’t no crazy like Dreadfort crazy cuz Dreadfort crazy don’t stop!
[Meanwhile, back at the wall, things are pretty much exactly how you remember them]
Mormont’s Raven: *still refuses to read its word of the day calendar*
Wildlings: *are still screwed*
Stannis: Still not king!
Melisandre: Hey, Jon, let’s hang out.
Jon: You just don’t realize how creepy you are, do you?
[Somewhere, over the waaalll, bluebirds... er... well all the birds are dead, never mind. And most of the animals. And our heroes are not all that lively either...]
Bran: Are we there yet? It’s been five years.
Meera: You know, three kids and a giant riding a reindeer to a mystic wizard’s lair sounded a lot more cheery in Victorian literature.
Bran: Seriously it has been at least 5 years. ARE WE THERE YET?
Cold Hands: 15 more minutes.
Bran: … look, dude, give me something here.
Cold Hands: … Bran, I am your uncle…?
Fans: *fistbumps* We called it!
[Nevermind, let’s get back to the Free Cities where our spunky heroes are going to have a jolly big adventure!]
Illyrio: Road trip!!
Tyrion: weeks of watching you eat? What joy is mine.
Illyrio: Let me reminisce you some exposition to pass the time. It’s probably all lies but who knows anymore…?
Tyrion: All right. Truth or Dare: You have a thing with Varys?
Illyrio: Ever read the Thief Lord? It was kind of like that, or Oliver Twist… except our gang stole secrets instead of gold. Blackmail was a good racket.
Locke Lamorra: *from another universe* Heeey that sounds familiar…
Illyrio: And my poor Nancy turned to stone from the Grey Plague which is totally going to be important in the coming plotlines. I still keep her hands in my room, which is totally not at all creepy. I will also not mention about whether or not I possibly have the rest of her in there as well.
Tyrion: … right. I’m going to drink some more now to wash that picture out of my brain.
Fans: … Pass the booze, bro.
[And because we haven’t skipped around enough: SOMEWHERE ELSE ENTIRELY this is going down:]
Six Dornishmen On a Boat: *Are now 3 Dornishmen on a boat*
Gerris: So now we know why that Westerosi Tourism Board never got founded.
Quentyn: :|
Martell fangirls: *swoon*
Gerris: Cheer up, Q-ball, if we live to Meereen you get the Hottest Wife award!
Fans: Yeaah, cause that award worked out great for Drogo.
Poor Dead Drogo: :|
Poor Dead Robert: Cheer up, Drogo, she’s probably going to turn crazycakes anyway.
Quentyn: But girls make me nervous when they DON’T have 3 dragons! This one has 3 dragons AND an army!
Poor Dead Robert: Srsly. I should have killed that girl back in the day.
Poor Dead Drogo: >:|
Poor Dead Oberyn: My money’s on the barbarian.
Poor Dead Robb: Oh ffs, would you all stop it, you can’t kill each other twice. Otherwise we wouldn’t have to keep stabbing Viserys.
Summer: I will turn My Little Ponies on in that afterlife right now if you lot don’t shut up.
Poor Dead Ned: Actually, I think they could probably learn something from Pinkie Pie and Appleja-OW ROBERT! PUT MY HEAD BACK ON.
[To the cities, to the wall, till the sweat drip down my-- oh, sorry, got distracted.. Look, it’s the wall. >.>.]
Dolorous Edd: Dead men really ought to stfu.
Jon: Hey, Gilly, about your kid…
Gilly: :(
Fans: WTF IS WITH THE BABY ROULETTE?
GRRM: *maniacal laughter echoes*
Sam: I DUN WANNA BE A MAESTERRRRR BAWWWWW
Jon: Suck it up. I don’t want to be LC either but we all deal. Yo, Janos-
Janos: Suck it, Snow.
Jon: … Srsly?
Janos: Srsly.
Jon: Grrr.
Janos Head: *falls off*
Olaf: Can I has his boots? They were made for walking.
[Back to the expository road trip! The fate of nations, the founding of religions, the origins of Varys- all shall be explained! WITH FOODPORN too!]
Tyrion: If we had Man vs Food: Westeros I vote Illyrio for the host.
Haldon: Yo. I am srs bzns.
Duck: I am not. I bet I get more fans that way.
Fans: *calculate the odds of Duck being important enough to spawn Mighty Duck fandom gifs*
Haldon: Behold my half-a-chain!
Tyrion: So you’re like the hippy ex-pat dropout who went backpacking in Europe and ends up cater-waitering somewhere in Central Europe…?
Haldon: How dare you insult my geekness! I challenge you to a Nerd-off!
Tyrion: *out-nerds Haldon*
Haldon: … you’re riding with Duck.
Duck: I’m going to exposit random crap now. Pirates of Dagger Lake! The Shrouded Prince! Tigers and Elephants, oh my!
Young Griff: I have blue hair!
Griff: STFU, Tyrion.
[In case you aren’t carsick yet, we’re now in MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, WESTEROS to enjoy random conversation and what’s either a big reveal or a yummy red herring, depending on how much you stan for Jon Snow as Savior of the Universe and Secret Targaryen]
Davos: Soooo… Sweet Sister? Great name for an island…
Godric: STFU I am here to exposition you but first I am going to bitch about my idiot overlords. And also my granddaughter needs a husband. You married?
Davos: Um, yes. I’m pretty sure. Granted I haven’t been home for a longass time but I’m mostly certain she’s still kicking.
Godric: Damn. Anywhoodle, Ned Stark, let’s start with that… Blah de blee some fisherman’s daughter got him here alive and he got her pregnant then went off to have a war. So you can do that too minus the pregnant business.
Fans: Oh for fuck’s sake we need a baby flowchart at this point.
GRRM: THIS IS MAH TROLLFACE,
[Back to the Wall!]
Melisandre: AZOR AHAI!
Jon: Bless you.
Mance: *flambees*
Wildlings: … ho shit
Jon: Why is everyone catching the crazytrain lately…?
[Aaand off to Meercat Manor for five seconds to drive home how many harpy balls Meereen sucks]
Dany: FUCK A BUNCH OF HARPIES SIDEWAYS. And the stupid dragons not being sentient or mind-melding or whatever… would someone invent Google already?
Xaro: I could give you these nice, shiny ships? You could go off to Westeros where you’re supposed to be going anyway…?
Dany: NO! I AM STAYING. Because everyone tells me not to! I REBEL AGAINST YOUR EXPECTATIONS. And couldn’t you at least pretend to look at my boobs? I hate everyone.
[And now, off to where nightmares go to breed. Y’know, the Dreadfort.]
Reek: Welcome to Dreadfort, bitches. Nightmares wear pink.
Pinhead: … damn. Someone gift this Ramsay a puzzle box, for I think I am in love.
Readers’ Modern Sensibilities: *retire to a monastery in Nepal*
[Back, across the wall things are looking bad. Not ‘flayed alive in small sections’ bad but more ‘stabbed and turned into an ice-borg by the shuffling hordes of undead Things which are chasing us’ bad]
Bran: AAAAH ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE!
Child of the Forest: Back, stupid borg!
Meera: … woah, you are way freakier than a Hobbit.
Treebeard-Zombie: Yo.
Bran: … ho shit.
[Ol’ Man River just keeps keeps rollin’ along... and the wind in the willows plays a sweet melodyyy...]
Tyrion: I want to be Mr Toad, and Griff can be Badger… anyway let’s talk about this grey plague some more because I don’t think the audience gets it yet. Or we can look at Lemore naked some more, I’m good either way.
Fans: Who is Lemoooore? OMG WHOOOOOO?
Lemore: Good question. Any of you ever seen Lyanna Stark’s body? Ashara Dayne’s? Dudes, I can go on with this all night.
Young Griff: Whatever y’all. I rock at swords!
Tyrion: … omg you have got to be kidding me.
Poor Dead Robert: … SON OF A--- TYWIN!! All my kids get killed and yet you can’t off the right blond baby?
Poor Dead Tywin: Look, it was a busy night what with sacking a city and all. It’s hard to find smart minions.
Poor Dead Rhaegar: You know, I had two kids, so you can stfu, Robert.
Summer: Rhaegs, if it helps I suspect your daughter may have warged her cat.
PD Rhaegar: … I’m not sure which idea is worse now. Robert, hand me the ale.
[Chez Harpylodge, Great Pyramid of Angst, Penthouse suite...]
Dany: Meereen sucks hairy harpyballs.
Fans: Yeah, it does. SO GET THE FUCK ON UP OUT OF THERE. For the love of the z-button! IT NEEDS A BREAK.
Hizzle yo Lizzle: Marry me! It’ll suck less!
Dany: … I am unconvinced. But unlike Xaro you at least stare at my boobs.
Daario: Yo babe!
Dany: Ack my hormones.
[Let’s add another brick in the waaaall...]
Jon: So it’s winter, we’ve got Wildlings and King Crazy and no food… oh and the ice-borg. Awesome. This will in no way end badly for anyone, right?
Dolorous Edd: Wildlings putting faces on trees and crazy women burning people… and you thought I was cynical? Hah.
Jon: Yo, Wildlings, sign up for the Watch. We have food. Kind of.
Wildlings: Meh.
Jon: I’ll even let in spearwives…?
63 Wildlings: Sign us up.
Bowen Marsh: *clutches his pearls and faints*
[Moon river, wider than a mile, we’re sailing your in style. Just a crew of drifters, off to see the world... see the world... wow the world looks suddenly ominous and cursed... ]
Tyrion: Didn’t we just pass this bridge…? When did the river turn into The Labyrinth? Is there some tall blond bloke in tights around here…?
Stone Men: OOOOGIE BOOGIE BOO!
Tyrion: Cursed Pirate Zombies? Didn’t I see a movie like this once?
Everyone: EEEK!
Tyrion: I remember this bit! Parley!
Stone Men: Down to the deeps with your parley!
Tyrion: Crap am I drowning again? … Ho shit.
[King Triton’s Palace! Okay not really, but damn the Manderlys are really really into their merman sigil as a decorative theme...]
Davos: Having the same sensation, bro.
White Harbor: *is super de duper pro Frey/Bolton/Tommen*
Wylla: Except me! I dye my hair green because I am that teenager. APATHY KILLS! AND SO DO FREYS! They killed ROOOOOBBBB.
Manderlys: Stfu, Wylla.
Wylla: If Stannis will kill me some Freys I say GO STANNIS. TEAM STANNIS! WHOOO!!
Freys: WARGS! Lies! Treachery! Starks bad, Freys good!
Rhaegar Frey: I’m going to piss you off more by being named for Rhaegar yet being an ass.
Poor Dead Rhaegar: Hey, you, get offa my name.
Wylla: I HATE EVERYONE. Where is my eyeliner? I’m going to go invent emo and cry at my Robb Stark poster.
Poor Dead Robb: At least the cute girls miss me.
Lord Wyman: … To the dungeon, Davos. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.
Davos: … ho shit.
[In the charred husk of Winterfell, plotlines finally start to move...]
Not!Arya: Please someone kill me in the morning? Or now. Now would be good.
Fans: Death or Ramsay…? Yeah, death’s good.
Readers’ Modern Sensibilities: *plonk down cash to extend their time share in Nepal*
Reek: Ohai Ar-oh wait… you’re not… ho shit.
[Back to the Perils of Tyrion! This week our sweet hero has been nearly drowned and saved at the last moment by Griff, standing in for the poor lost Podrick who may or may not be getting hanged by Stoneheart at this very moment because the entire time/space continuum has packed up and left Westeros for the duration of this book. Which is no big deal if you’re used to watching Gossip Girl where school may happen at any point and coincide with the party they were at last night or the ball they had next week or any damn thing ever…For the rest of you, just grab a margarita and don’t think about it.]
Tyrion: homg I’m not dead!
Griff: You’re kind of welcome.
Not-so-Baby-Aegon: I never get to have any fun.
Tyrion: Let’s talk over a nice game of not-chess. Specifically about you and Dany and how she’ totes won’t go with you to the prom.
Not-so-Baby Aegon: I’m hot of course she’ll go with me!
Tyrion: Ok I know you’re a teenage boy but try to get the top-brain involved here: Girl done rode with a Khalasar, hatched 3 dragons, and smashed the fuck out of three giant cities. What have you done lately? Your resumee, it is not up to snuff, kiddo. You aint even fought a battle and girlfriend over there has scared the tokars off half the known world. Plus you got a comfy boat and a pseudo-family while she ran around scared for her whole life. Like… srsly, this is not going to go well for you.
Aegon: … I don’t like the way you think.
Tyrion: Well I suggest you go kick some Westerosi asses to show off your manliness.
Aegon: I hate everyone.
Haldon: Tyrion, if you’re done trying to explain teenage girls to the teenage boy let’s hit the city.
Tyrion: Can I grab a hooker on the way home?
Haldon: … pfft. Fine. Go.
Tyrion: YEYSEX
Jorah: YEYHOSTAGE.
Tyrion: … ho shit.
A DANCE WITH DRAGONS IN 30 MINUTES
NOTE: I considered waiting 3.5 years after the book was released but I’m stuck at home sick and with writer’s block so my misfortune can be yours too. Standard Fanfic/Satire Disclaimer being that this is not-for-profit, I am not GRR Martin, etc.
Now, the previous installments can be found HERE. I am not posting them or this to any other communities but you can hand out the link to your hearts’ content and do let me know if you icon some phrases cause I like the ego boost. Also: I may get disgusted with trying to work with LJ’s @$$hat Rich Text Editor and put the whole thing in a public GDoc or something, and just put the link here. Okay, that’s done. Let’s go see who’s dying!
[we are... BEYOND THE WALL! Are you ready for this jelly? I don’t think you’re ready...]
Varamyr: I hate dying. Thistle, baby, Imma warg you.
Thistle: !!!!
Poor Dead Haggon: ABOMINATION!
Ice-Borg: *MURDERIZE*
Poor Not-So-Dead Varamyr: THEY CAN TAKE MY BODY BUT THEY’LL NEVER TAKE MY WOLF!!
Ice-Borg Thistle: I SEE WUT U DID THURR.
PNSD Varamyr: … ho shit.
Fans: … THE BORG REMEMBER? O_O
[Somewhere, across the sea, Tyrion’s questing to find a place of Hookers, or a neverending supply of booze, either way]
Tyrion: *is drunk*
Varys: I cannot even with this. Illyrio, you deal with it.
Illyrio: Tyrion? Have a shroom.
Tyrion: Where do whores go?
Illyrio: STFU, Tyrion.
[Meanwhile, Dany is still hanging in Meereen because... because she is, all right? Geez, who are you, her parents?]
Sons of the Harpy: *are stab-happy bitches*
Barristan: Another dead eunuch? Has no one invented forensics yet?
Dany: Where’d we stick Cadfael again? Or Grissham? Even a Horatio. I’ll take a Horatio…
Grey Worm: These ones will try!
Barristan: … I suspect CSI: Meereen will not get a second season.
Dany: Yeaaah… the conquering was way more fun than governing… Ooh, hot guy!
Fans: You pick the damnedest times to remember you’re 16.
Reznak: Speaking of CSI and murdering, I brought you this dude with this sack full of bones…
Dany: Bad Dragons! No biscuits! You’re going to your rooms to think about what you’ve done! Now instead of having someone hunt up stuff on dragonlore I’m going to go angst about wearing stupid tokars and trying to govern a city populated by lunatics.
Fans: Oh, honey. Just wait til you meet Westeros.
Boltons: AIn’t no crazy like Dreadfort crazy cuz Dreadfort crazy don’t stop!
[Meanwhile, back at the wall, things are pretty much exactly how you remember them]
Mormont’s Raven: *still refuses to read its word of the day calendar*
Wildlings: *are still screwed*
Stannis: Still not king!
Melisandre: Hey, Jon, let’s hang out.
Jon: You just don’t realize how creepy you are, do you?
[Somewhere, over the waaalll, bluebirds... er... well all the birds are dead, never mind. And most of the animals. And our heroes are not all that lively either...]
Bran: Are we there yet? It’s been five years.
Meera: You know, three kids and a giant riding a reindeer to a mystic wizard’s lair sounded a lot more cheery in Victorian literature.
Bran: Seriously it has been at least 5 years. ARE WE THERE YET?
Cold Hands: 15 more minutes.
Bran: … look, dude, give me something here.
Cold Hands: … Bran, I am your uncle…?
Fans: *fistbumps* We called it!
[Nevermind, let’s get back to the Free Cities where our spunky heroes are going to have a jolly big adventure!]
Illyrio: Road trip!!
Tyrion: weeks of watching you eat? What joy is mine.
Illyrio: Let me reminisce you some exposition to pass the time. It’s probably all lies but who knows anymore…?
Tyrion: All right. Truth or Dare: You have a thing with Varys?
Illyrio: Ever read the Thief Lord? It was kind of like that, or Oliver Twist… except our gang stole secrets instead of gold. Blackmail was a good racket.
Locke Lamorra: *from another universe* Heeey that sounds familiar…
Illyrio: And my poor Nancy turned to stone from the Grey Plague which is totally going to be important in the coming plotlines. I still keep her hands in my room, which is totally not at all creepy. I will also not mention about whether or not I possibly have the rest of her in there as well.
Tyrion: … right. I’m going to drink some more now to wash that picture out of my brain.
Fans: … Pass the booze, bro.
[And because we haven’t skipped around enough: SOMEWHERE ELSE ENTIRELY this is going down:]
Six Dornishmen On a Boat: *Are now 3 Dornishmen on a boat*
Gerris: So now we know why that Westerosi Tourism Board never got founded.
Quentyn: :|
Martell fangirls: *swoon*
Gerris: Cheer up, Q-ball, if we live to Meereen you get the Hottest Wife award!
Fans: Yeaah, cause that award worked out great for Drogo.
Poor Dead Drogo: :|
Poor Dead Robert: Cheer up, Drogo, she’s probably going to turn crazycakes anyway.
Quentyn: But girls make me nervous when they DON’T have 3 dragons! This one has 3 dragons AND an army!
Poor Dead Robert: Srsly. I should have killed that girl back in the day.
Poor Dead Drogo: >:|
Poor Dead Oberyn: My money’s on the barbarian.
Poor Dead Robb: Oh ffs, would you all stop it, you can’t kill each other twice. Otherwise we wouldn’t have to keep stabbing Viserys.
Summer: I will turn My Little Ponies on in that afterlife right now if you lot don’t shut up.
Poor Dead Ned: Actually, I think they could probably learn something from Pinkie Pie and Appleja-OW ROBERT! PUT MY HEAD BACK ON.
[To the cities, to the wall, till the sweat drip down my-- oh, sorry, got distracted.. Look, it’s the wall. >.>.]
Dolorous Edd: Dead men really ought to stfu.
Jon: Hey, Gilly, about your kid…
Gilly: :(
Fans: WTF IS WITH THE BABY ROULETTE?
GRRM: *maniacal laughter echoes*
Sam: I DUN WANNA BE A MAESTERRRRR BAWWWWW
Jon: Suck it up. I don’t want to be LC either but we all deal. Yo, Janos-
Janos: Suck it, Snow.
Jon: … Srsly?
Janos: Srsly.
Jon: Grrr.
Janos Head: *falls off*
Olaf: Can I has his boots? They were made for walking.
[Back to the expository road trip! The fate of nations, the founding of religions, the origins of Varys- all shall be explained! WITH FOODPORN too!]
Tyrion: If we had Man vs Food: Westeros I vote Illyrio for the host.
Haldon: Yo. I am srs bzns.
Duck: I am not. I bet I get more fans that way.
Fans: *calculate the odds of Duck being important enough to spawn Mighty Duck fandom gifs*
Haldon: Behold my half-a-chain!
Tyrion: So you’re like the hippy ex-pat dropout who went backpacking in Europe and ends up cater-waitering somewhere in Central Europe…?
Haldon: How dare you insult my geekness! I challenge you to a Nerd-off!
Tyrion: *out-nerds Haldon*
Haldon: … you’re riding with Duck.
Duck: I’m going to exposit random crap now. Pirates of Dagger Lake! The Shrouded Prince! Tigers and Elephants, oh my!
Young Griff: I have blue hair!
Griff: STFU, Tyrion.
[In case you aren’t carsick yet, we’re now in MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, WESTEROS to enjoy random conversation and what’s either a big reveal or a yummy red herring, depending on how much you stan for Jon Snow as Savior of the Universe and Secret Targaryen]
Davos: Soooo… Sweet Sister? Great name for an island…
Godric: STFU I am here to exposition you but first I am going to bitch about my idiot overlords. And also my granddaughter needs a husband. You married?
Davos: Um, yes. I’m pretty sure. Granted I haven’t been home for a longass time but I’m mostly certain she’s still kicking.
Godric: Damn. Anywhoodle, Ned Stark, let’s start with that… Blah de blee some fisherman’s daughter got him here alive and he got her pregnant then went off to have a war. So you can do that too minus the pregnant business.
Fans: Oh for fuck’s sake we need a baby flowchart at this point.
GRRM: THIS IS MAH TROLLFACE,
[Back to the Wall!]
Melisandre: AZOR AHAI!
Jon: Bless you.
Mance: *flambees*
Wildlings: … ho shit
Jon: Why is everyone catching the crazytrain lately…?
[Aaand off to Meercat Manor for five seconds to drive home how many harpy balls Meereen sucks]
Dany: FUCK A BUNCH OF HARPIES SIDEWAYS. And the stupid dragons not being sentient or mind-melding or whatever… would someone invent Google already?
Xaro: I could give you these nice, shiny ships? You could go off to Westeros where you’re supposed to be going anyway…?
Dany: NO! I AM STAYING. Because everyone tells me not to! I REBEL AGAINST YOUR EXPECTATIONS. And couldn’t you at least pretend to look at my boobs? I hate everyone.
[And now, off to where nightmares go to breed. Y’know, the Dreadfort.]
Reek: Welcome to Dreadfort, bitches. Nightmares wear pink.
Pinhead: … damn. Someone gift this Ramsay a puzzle box, for I think I am in love.
Readers’ Modern Sensibilities: *retire to a monastery in Nepal*
[Back, across the wall things are looking bad. Not ‘flayed alive in small sections’ bad but more ‘stabbed and turned into an ice-borg by the shuffling hordes of undead Things which are chasing us’ bad]
Bran: AAAAH ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE!
Child of the Forest: Back, stupid borg!
Meera: … woah, you are way freakier than a Hobbit.
Treebeard-Zombie: Yo.
Bran: … ho shit.
[Ol’ Man River just keeps keeps rollin’ along... and the wind in the willows plays a sweet melodyyy...]
Tyrion: I want to be Mr Toad, and Griff can be Badger… anyway let’s talk about this grey plague some more because I don’t think the audience gets it yet. Or we can look at Lemore naked some more, I’m good either way.
Fans: Who is Lemoooore? OMG WHOOOOOO?
Lemore: Good question. Any of you ever seen Lyanna Stark’s body? Ashara Dayne’s? Dudes, I can go on with this all night.
Young Griff: Whatever y’all. I rock at swords!
Tyrion: … omg you have got to be kidding me.
Poor Dead Robert: … SON OF A--- TYWIN!! All my kids get killed and yet you can’t off the right blond baby?
Poor Dead Tywin: Look, it was a busy night what with sacking a city and all. It’s hard to find smart minions.
Poor Dead Rhaegar: You know, I had two kids, so you can stfu, Robert.
Summer: Rhaegs, if it helps I suspect your daughter may have warged her cat.
PD Rhaegar: … I’m not sure which idea is worse now. Robert, hand me the ale.
[Chez Harpylodge, Great Pyramid of Angst, Penthouse suite...]
Dany: Meereen sucks hairy harpyballs.
Fans: Yeah, it does. SO GET THE FUCK ON UP OUT OF THERE. For the love of the z-button! IT NEEDS A BREAK.
Hizzle yo Lizzle: Marry me! It’ll suck less!
Dany: … I am unconvinced. But unlike Xaro you at least stare at my boobs.
Daario: Yo babe!
Dany: Ack my hormones.
[Let’s add another brick in the waaaall...]
Jon: So it’s winter, we’ve got Wildlings and King Crazy and no food… oh and the ice-borg. Awesome. This will in no way end badly for anyone, right?
Dolorous Edd: Wildlings putting faces on trees and crazy women burning people… and you thought I was cynical? Hah.
Jon: Yo, Wildlings, sign up for the Watch. We have food. Kind of.
Wildlings: Meh.
Jon: I’ll even let in spearwives…?
63 Wildlings: Sign us up.
Bowen Marsh: *clutches his pearls and faints*
[Moon river, wider than a mile, we’re sailing your in style. Just a crew of drifters, off to see the world... see the world... wow the world looks suddenly ominous and cursed... ]
Tyrion: Didn’t we just pass this bridge…? When did the river turn into The Labyrinth? Is there some tall blond bloke in tights around here…?
Stone Men: OOOOGIE BOOGIE BOO!
Tyrion: Cursed Pirate Zombies? Didn’t I see a movie like this once?
Everyone: EEEK!
Tyrion: I remember this bit! Parley!
Stone Men: Down to the deeps with your parley!
Tyrion: Crap am I drowning again? … Ho shit.
[King Triton’s Palace! Okay not really, but damn the Manderlys are really really into their merman sigil as a decorative theme...]
Davos: Having the same sensation, bro.
White Harbor: *is super de duper pro Frey/Bolton/Tommen*
Wylla: Except me! I dye my hair green because I am that teenager. APATHY KILLS! AND SO DO FREYS! They killed ROOOOOBBBB.
Manderlys: Stfu, Wylla.
Wylla: If Stannis will kill me some Freys I say GO STANNIS. TEAM STANNIS! WHOOO!!
Freys: WARGS! Lies! Treachery! Starks bad, Freys good!
Rhaegar Frey: I’m going to piss you off more by being named for Rhaegar yet being an ass.
Poor Dead Rhaegar: Hey, you, get offa my name.
Wylla: I HATE EVERYONE. Where is my eyeliner? I’m going to go invent emo and cry at my Robb Stark poster.
Poor Dead Robb: At least the cute girls miss me.
Lord Wyman: … To the dungeon, Davos. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.
Davos: … ho shit.
[In the charred husk of Winterfell, plotlines finally start to move...]
Not!Arya: Please someone kill me in the morning? Or now. Now would be good.
Fans: Death or Ramsay…? Yeah, death’s good.
Readers’ Modern Sensibilities: *plonk down cash to extend their time share in Nepal*
Reek: Ohai Ar-oh wait… you’re not… ho shit.
[Back to the Perils of Tyrion! This week our sweet hero has been nearly drowned and saved at the last moment by Griff, standing in for the poor lost Podrick who may or may not be getting hanged by Stoneheart at this very moment because the entire time/space continuum has packed up and left Westeros for the duration of this book. Which is no big deal if you’re used to watching Gossip Girl where school may happen at any point and coincide with the party they were at last night or the ball they had next week or any damn thing ever…For the rest of you, just grab a margarita and don’t think about it.]
Tyrion: homg I’m not dead!
Griff: You’re kind of welcome.
Not-so-Baby-Aegon: I never get to have any fun.
Tyrion: Let’s talk over a nice game of not-chess. Specifically about you and Dany and how she’ totes won’t go with you to the prom.
Not-so-Baby Aegon: I’m hot of course she’ll go with me!
Tyrion: Ok I know you’re a teenage boy but try to get the top-brain involved here: Girl done rode with a Khalasar, hatched 3 dragons, and smashed the fuck out of three giant cities. What have you done lately? Your resumee, it is not up to snuff, kiddo. You aint even fought a battle and girlfriend over there has scared the tokars off half the known world. Plus you got a comfy boat and a pseudo-family while she ran around scared for her whole life. Like… srsly, this is not going to go well for you.
Aegon: … I don’t like the way you think.
Tyrion: Well I suggest you go kick some Westerosi asses to show off your manliness.
Aegon: I hate everyone.
Haldon: Tyrion, if you’re done trying to explain teenage girls to the teenage boy let’s hit the city.
Tyrion: Can I grab a hooker on the way home?
Haldon: … pfft. Fine. Go.
Tyrion: YEYSEX
Jorah: YEYHOSTAGE.
Tyrion: … ho shit.