A Dance With Dragons in 30 Minutes (Part II)
Disclaimer: I am not GRRM or making moneys from this, I'm just here for the lulz.
[Some indeterminate amount of time after the dwarfnapping and either before or after any other part because who even knows...]
Griff: I hate everyone. Screw it I’m going to get the sellswords.
Golden Company: Are we sure we want to be gotten?
Aegon: Watch while I turn the charm up to 11 up in here. I’m bringing sexy back, those other Targs don’t know how to act, come on let me make up for the things you lack, you’re bunin’ up and I’ll get it fast. We’re bringin’ sexy baaaack!
Golden Company: FUCK YEAH THAT’S OUR JAM.
[Back to 3 Dornishmen and a Mercenary Company...]
Quentyn: I hate sellswords and I have the worst feeling about this whole Dany thing… Maybe we should just head home and call it a--
Tattered Prince: So you lot are now going to defect to Team Meercat so that I can figure out who is going to win this bitch.
Quentyn: And there went my last excuse. Crapsticks.
[So off to Galbart Glover’s Gazebo or whatever, because that’s where Asha scampered off to hide in the Post-Euron Crowseye World...]
Asha: Hey a letter from Bolton with a bit of leather--- EW OMG EW EW GROSS. Northmen are so fucked up. I’m going to go have sex to get my mind off it. And yeah so what if my boyfriend’s nickname is ‘the maid’? COME AT ME BRO.
Tristifer: Sniffle. I love you more, Asha! Let’s run away, snugglemuffin!
Asha: Srsly? We’ve been doing this dance for at least two books.
Tristifer: Shh, I need to reminisce you some history lessons, pookiebear. Kingsmoot! All claimants must be present!
Asha: OMG You are finally useful! I could-
Stannis’s Troops: SURPRISE!
Asha: Ho shit. OW.
[Now back to The Perils of Tyrion: Part CLXXXIV: Our intrepid hero has been dragged to Volantis by the eeeevil Ser Jorah! Oh noez!]
Tyrion: This road trip was way more fun with Illyrio. Or the cursed pirates. Jorah, you are fired as my cohost.
Jorah: STFU, Tyrion. Tell the audience about Volantis, Mr PoV.
[Volantis is full of Volantenes (that word makes me think of Pantene so I guess Volantis has great hair?) and elephants and slaves. So, so many slaves. Lots of slaves up in here. Did we mention slaves?]
Widow Who’s Probs a Pirate Queen: Speaking of: Volantis is sailing against your queen.
Jorah: Grrr!
Widow: Aw, you’re cute but I like the dwarf better.
Tyrion: At last, someone has some taste.
Widow: Well go on, you crazy kids. Tell Dany that we got her back so come free us post haste.
Penny: DIE TYRION
Jorah: Hey now, if anyone gets to kill him it’s moi!
Tyrion: WTH did I do to-oh, come on now, I am NOT responsible for Cersei chopping off willy-nilly heads, ok? I’m just looking for where whores go.
Penny: Stfu, Tyrion.
[On the Wall o’ Flaming Crazypeeps...]
Aliser Thorne: I’m still a jerkass
Melisandre: Jon, can I touch your… wolf?
Ghost: I could get used to this. Mmmm. Rub me like that oh yeah right there unf unf…
Mel: It’s the boobs. Mostly.
Jon: … Nothing about anything ever gets less creepy here. And Ghost stop betraying my subconscious appreciation of Melisandre’s Boobs.
Ghost: They are great boobs. Seriously, you got to recognize, bro.
[Poor Davos, locked up in a tower with three square meals a day and books to read. It must be really rough. ]
Davos: Still not dead!
Wyman: Sorry about that. BTW, Stannis still sucks but less than Freys.
Davos: Wait whut?
Wyman: Stupid Freys think fat==stupid. HAH. I’m going to burn their asses. Like an oven. A fiery, vengeance-fueled oven.
Davos: … whut?
Wex: YO! I’m Theon’s mute squire and I didn’t die! Hah!
Wyman: Did you know Ramsay Snow hunts women in the woods, btw? Let’s just all have a Fellowship of the Wolf moment.
Davos: Ew. What…? No, wait… just… EW?
Wyman: Exactly. So I got hella warships and lots of horses and my son just showed up here courtesy of Jaime Lannister so now I am going to proceed to fuck the Freys’ shit up like ain’t nobody’s shit been fucked up before. I will help Stannis but only if you do me this one teeny tiny little favor…
Davos: I have a bad feeling about this.
Wyman: See, Wex showed us where a surviving Stark is stashed…. Right here. This tiny little island not so far away. An island of unicorns and sparkly things! Well if ‘sparkle’ means ‘cannibal crazy’ then it’s really, really sparkly.
Davos: … ho shit.
[Yeah, Davs that’s going to suck but you should try being an insomniac shadow-priestess serving a psycho god while trying to deal with stupid mortals objecting to your perfectly reasonable insistence on burning people and having shadowbabies…]
Mel: My LSD is failing!! I want Azor Ahai and I keep seeing Jon Snow, wtf?
R’hllor: Le sigh.
Mel: Sleep… must not sleep…
Fans: Sleep deprivation and sorcery has to be a great combination. O__o
Mel: Wow, my sorcery rocks balls up here. Can’t imagine why. Hey Rattleshirt.
Rattle: I hate that shirt. And being Rattle. I am so much hotter than this.
Mel: Yo Jon, remember when I said your rangers were screwed?
Jon: … Dammit.
RattleMance: You’ll get over them. Anyway I’m here to save your sister.
Jon: YOU? Oh, fuck this sorcery bullshit.
Mel: Don’t you want to help your sister?
Jon: …Why do I live in the creepiest place ever?
Bran: Dudebro don’t even talk to me about creepy. Let’s see you get warging-lessons from a corpse-tree.
[Back in Boltonworld, things really just never get less sociopathic. EVER. This is like the family Hannibal Lecter dreams of having]
Reek: I would take the treecorpse lessons over the Dreadfort. Boltons are no sorcery, all creep.
Roose: Speaking of that, Ramsay, could you dial the Nightmare Fuel down a couple notches? You’re making a spectacle of yourself.
Ramsay: NEVAR! DO NOT INSULT MAH ART!
Roose: Are you sure you’re even mine? My kids knew how to do sociopathy well and you, bastard baby, suck at it. So you behave yourself at Winterfell.
Ramsay: *SEETHES* I burned it! It’s mine to do whatever with! Mine! Mine mine mine!
Roose: Ironmen burned it. Gods you can’t even keep your story straight. Where did I go wrong? I raised better serial killers than this surely.
Summer: I’m just stepping in here to say that as of this scene I am positive the internet will produce Ramsay/Cersei/Qyburn fic, Ramsey/Cersei, and probably Roose/Tywin. Ramsei and… Toose? Roowin? Whatever. Y’all know it’s out there. Waiting for you.
Roose: Since you don’t have an X-Box, I’m taking your Reek away for a week while you think about how real serial killers behave.
Ramsay: NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
Roose: That boy needs a good leeching, but it would just be wasting good leeches, tbh.
Reek: …
Roose: Let me now exposit a bit about our psychotic family. You know if Walda gets preggers, Ramsay will probably kill the kid and she’ll be rather upset about that. I’m deciding if I object to the idea of her being upset. Perhaps I need more leeches.
Lady Dustin: Roose, there you are! Where is… ewww what’s that?
Roose: Well… it’s most of Theon Greyjoy? Minus a few bits and sundry pieces.
Reek: … ho shit.
[This week on the Perils of Tyrion, we’re bobbing along on the beautiful briny sea... and Tyrion attempts to make a new friend!]
Tyrion: That girl has the worst name evar.
Jorah: Her name is Penny.
Tyrion: It’s a stupid name.
Jorah: Tyrion isn’t that great either by some standards.
Tyrion: … she looks lonely.
Jorah: This can’t be your first day at kindergarten. Go make friends while I continue pining myself to death over here.
Tyrion: … Sorry ‘bout ur bro, um, person.
Penny: STFU, Tyrion.
Tyrion: …
Penny: Sorry. I’m just kind of lost and naïve and totally co-dependent and now I’m going to imprint on you.
Tyrion: … ho shit.
[The Underground Lair of the Children of the Forest... who we’re going to call Singers now? Or something. Anyway, at least there aren’t any zombies yet, or singing muppets either, just a Targ-treecorpse and lots of bones and petrified bats and dark places where we can all assume dark things are having a nap while they wait for Sauron or whatever]
Treebeard: Don’t tell me truth hurts little girl, it hurts like hell… but it’s only forever, not long at all…
Bran: Speaking of... Jojen why are you not more muppety?
Jojen: Because my part’s done and now I just have to hang out and be emo about it.
Meera: So what do you call you, tree-dude?
Treebeard: I used to be named Brynden once upon a time...
Fans: OMG! BLOODRAVEN! That’s where you went!
Treebeard: Oh, I see you all read the prequel books. Good for you. Bran, warg a raven- any raven!
Bran: *flies his raven into a wall* Ow! Worst first person shooter ever! So anyway, about ravens? Can you tell me something that will creep the audience out? They haven’t made horrified noises for at least ten pages.
Treebeard: You mean like how the ravens used to be able to talk and repeat the messages like creepy voice mail? Or how bits of a warg get stuck in whatever he wargs? So now the audience can freak out about how much of you is in Hodor or whatever.
Leaf the Child of the Forest: Here, eat these weirwood seeds and all will be revealed.
Bran: *_____* Ooh, trippy! I spy with my squillion eyes… blood sacrifice?! Ho shit. I’M AN IMMORTAL VAMPIRE TREE NOW??!
[Over at the wall, Jon brings home a stray giant because he’s got that thing about strays, and Ygritte cried about giants that one time and you never know when you’ll need a giant. And then we’re off to Meereen where everyone’s got Montezuma’s Revenge and Cholera and no concept of sanitation or electrolytes or medicine in general so that’s going to go well, right?]
Dany: ew bloody flux so gross. Good thing dragons are disease-resistant. Daario, before I marry Hizzum dum Tizzle let’s have sex.
Daario: Aw hells yeah. Then I’ll get pissed off about how you’re marrying someone else and we’ll have a tragic lovers’ spat about it before I stomp off.
[While Dany gets hot mercenary sex to break up that dry spell she’s had since Drogo died, or maybe before or after that because who even knows anymore? This happens at Winterfell:]
Jeyne: Help!!
Theon: Shhh, the trees are talking… I’m probably just batshit crazy at this point but I don’t care they are talking! Talking! For meeeee! They know me!
Worst Wedding Night In Westeros: *happens*
[And then the worst threesome ever in any universe happens, and yes I’m including Gor novels, that one fanfic where Merry and Pippin had a threesome with Treebeard, and even THIS. (warning: that link leads to Celebrian, most terrifying of all badfic)]
Fans: *go off to have a boiling hot bath and find the brain bleach*
[And in the desert, the Dornish desert, the Mountain’s dead tonight!]
Dorne: *does a happy dance around Ser Gregor’s Skull*
Nym: *wears transparent clothes*
Ser Balon: Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down…
Arianne: Hey there, sexy sailor…
Ser Balon: FML.
Doran: Hey there, Sand Snakes, want to be part of my Scooby Gang?
Sand Snakes: Jenkies, Uncle Doran!
Fans: We’re going to need a new flow chart, aren’t we?
Doran: Tyene to the Sept, Nym to Kings Landing, Obara go chase Darkstar with Ser Balon, and Arianne… some other thing and I will now change the subject immediately so maybe no one will wonder what you’re going to be gearing up for. Because hey look, Volantene ships with elephants are heading for Westeros and that has to be Dany, right?
Fans: … someone needs to get these people a Twitter.
[Over at the Wall, things still suck and Jon is starting to wonder if the combined IQ went down with the temperature]
Edd: This is going to end badly.
Fans: That’s like the motto of Westeros.
Bowen and Co: Madness! *clutching pearls* Let the Wildlings all die!
Jon: Do you not get the fact that since the DEAD THINGS ARE WALKING, letting them die might be an issue??
Bowen and Co: *blinkblink* … no? What could possibly be wrong with letting the Others swell their legion ranks with innumerable dead?
Jon: I hate everyone.
[On the Perils of Tyrion... We’re still bobbing along on a beautiful briny sea!]
Tyrion: I’m bored so I’m going to go piss off Jorah!
Jorah: Job well done. *BEARSMASH*
Penny: OMGTYRION! What happened to your face this time…?
Tyrion: … I pissed off Jorah?
Penny: Didn’t your father teach you anything? Like ‘don’t piss off men in armor when you are half their size’?
Tyrion: You’re assuming my father was the teaching kind. Or the kind with any sort of soul. Anyway have you ever had sex, Penny?
Penny: … no? But now you mention it I’m going to go think about how you mentioned it and you’re the only other dwarf I know and I’ll get back to you.
Storm: *happens*
Penny: *smooches Tyrion*
Tyrion: !!! Um I’m… married. Yes, that’s it! I’m married! Tall girl, with me at the banquet…
Penny: The drop-dead gorgeous one? Srsly? OMG my feelings of inadequacy, how they multiply…
[Meanwhile that ship they’re all standing on is sinking but who cares about that when there are feelings to have?]
Penny: hey there’s another ship!!
Tyrion! YEYSHIP! *snogs Penny*
Penny: *____* Oh, Tyrion…
Jorah: It’s a slaver.
Tyrion: … ho shit.
[How to make ruined Winterfell creepier? Just add Boltons! YEY! Oh, and also a trip to the Department of Bitter Angsty Backstories!]
Lady Dustin :Yo Theon. Show me the crypts.
Theon: Why do you have such a raging hate-on for the Starks anyway?
Lady Dustin: So Brandon Stark and I were shagging and then his dad decided on a ridiculous gods-damned Tully marriage and then Brandon died and Cat suck-face Tully got Ned too, and then Ned took my husband south and got him killed. Screw you, Ned. Screw you all! HATERADE: I GOTS IT.
Theon: Wow someone needs to invent psychiatrists.
[Back to our gorgeous little MacGuffin and her gorgeous little sextoy...]
Dany: Sigh. I like sex with Daario. If only he was a prince or some junk like that. Look, Asha and I are parallelling in our love/lust for badass guys that are too lowborn to marry! Super literary, right?
Daario: You should probably hold court, bb. I’m just saying. You’ve kind of been slacking off.
Dany: aww, you sounded like a boyfriend! Can I have your class ring?
3 Dornishmen: Sup, Majesty?
Dany: … I think I’ve done this dance before. Who are you really?
Frog: I’m Prince Quentyn!
Dany: Lol! Like a story! No, srsly, u enchanted bb?
Quentyn: :| No?
Dany: Aw. And I was hoping you’d get cuter. Oh well, I’m engaged to Hazbro Zanzibar or whatever, sorry bout that. G2g sex up Daario again.
[Because Jon’s life isn’t sucky enough, we’re adding Selyse to it. Too bad we can’t lock Cersei and Selyse in a room for a while... ]
Selyse: Ew gross I’m getting North on my hem.
Jon: So gracious, oh my bearded queen.
Selyse: Oh and there’s a Braavosi banker with me although that’s not at all important since you aren’t short of money or anything.
Jon: A banker you say? *_____*
Tycho Nestoris: I’m here to give the fans something else to angst about as they try to decipher my indecipherable motivations! YEY! Let’s just hope I’m a bit more sane than my namesake.
Mully: OMGAGIRL! WE FOUND A GIRL! ON A HORSE! A GIRL! A REAL GIRL! OMG! What do we do with it?
Jon: ARYAAA-Oh wait.
Alys Karstark: HELP!
Jon: … ho shit.
[Off at Stabwarts School of Asassincraft and Ninjary, Arya’s getting ace marks]
Arya: Assassin school sort of sucks in a fun way. And yes, being blind is part of the curriculum because how else to become a mystic assassin? Here kitty kitty… Oh hay this is a fun trick! I am the cat! Wheee!
Assassin-Dumbledore: How in the hells did you…?
Arya: Hah! I got mad skillz, yo!
[Some indeterminate amount of time after the dwarfnapping and either before or after any other part because who even knows...]
Griff: I hate everyone. Screw it I’m going to get the sellswords.
Golden Company: Are we sure we want to be gotten?
Aegon: Watch while I turn the charm up to 11 up in here. I’m bringing sexy back, those other Targs don’t know how to act, come on let me make up for the things you lack, you’re bunin’ up and I’ll get it fast. We’re bringin’ sexy baaaack!
Golden Company: FUCK YEAH THAT’S OUR JAM.
[Back to 3 Dornishmen and a Mercenary Company...]
Quentyn: I hate sellswords and I have the worst feeling about this whole Dany thing… Maybe we should just head home and call it a--
Tattered Prince: So you lot are now going to defect to Team Meercat so that I can figure out who is going to win this bitch.
Quentyn: And there went my last excuse. Crapsticks.
[So off to Galbart Glover’s Gazebo or whatever, because that’s where Asha scampered off to hide in the Post-Euron Crowseye World...]
Asha: Hey a letter from Bolton with a bit of leather--- EW OMG EW EW GROSS. Northmen are so fucked up. I’m going to go have sex to get my mind off it. And yeah so what if my boyfriend’s nickname is ‘the maid’? COME AT ME BRO.
Tristifer: Sniffle. I love you more, Asha! Let’s run away, snugglemuffin!
Asha: Srsly? We’ve been doing this dance for at least two books.
Tristifer: Shh, I need to reminisce you some history lessons, pookiebear. Kingsmoot! All claimants must be present!
Asha: OMG You are finally useful! I could-
Stannis’s Troops: SURPRISE!
Asha: Ho shit. OW.
[Now back to The Perils of Tyrion: Part CLXXXIV: Our intrepid hero has been dragged to Volantis by the eeeevil Ser Jorah! Oh noez!]
Tyrion: This road trip was way more fun with Illyrio. Or the cursed pirates. Jorah, you are fired as my cohost.
Jorah: STFU, Tyrion. Tell the audience about Volantis, Mr PoV.
[Volantis is full of Volantenes (that word makes me think of Pantene so I guess Volantis has great hair?) and elephants and slaves. So, so many slaves. Lots of slaves up in here. Did we mention slaves?]
Widow Who’s Probs a Pirate Queen: Speaking of: Volantis is sailing against your queen.
Jorah: Grrr!
Widow: Aw, you’re cute but I like the dwarf better.
Tyrion: At last, someone has some taste.
Widow: Well go on, you crazy kids. Tell Dany that we got her back so come free us post haste.
Penny: DIE TYRION
Jorah: Hey now, if anyone gets to kill him it’s moi!
Tyrion: WTH did I do to-oh, come on now, I am NOT responsible for Cersei chopping off willy-nilly heads, ok? I’m just looking for where whores go.
Penny: Stfu, Tyrion.
[On the Wall o’ Flaming Crazypeeps...]
Aliser Thorne: I’m still a jerkass
Melisandre: Jon, can I touch your… wolf?
Ghost: I could get used to this. Mmmm. Rub me like that oh yeah right there unf unf…
Mel: It’s the boobs. Mostly.
Jon: … Nothing about anything ever gets less creepy here. And Ghost stop betraying my subconscious appreciation of Melisandre’s Boobs.
Ghost: They are great boobs. Seriously, you got to recognize, bro.
[Poor Davos, locked up in a tower with three square meals a day and books to read. It must be really rough. ]
Davos: Still not dead!
Wyman: Sorry about that. BTW, Stannis still sucks but less than Freys.
Davos: Wait whut?
Wyman: Stupid Freys think fat==stupid. HAH. I’m going to burn their asses. Like an oven. A fiery, vengeance-fueled oven.
Davos: … whut?
Wex: YO! I’m Theon’s mute squire and I didn’t die! Hah!
Wyman: Did you know Ramsay Snow hunts women in the woods, btw? Let’s just all have a Fellowship of the Wolf moment.
Davos: Ew. What…? No, wait… just… EW?
Wyman: Exactly. So I got hella warships and lots of horses and my son just showed up here courtesy of Jaime Lannister so now I am going to proceed to fuck the Freys’ shit up like ain’t nobody’s shit been fucked up before. I will help Stannis but only if you do me this one teeny tiny little favor…
Davos: I have a bad feeling about this.
Wyman: See, Wex showed us where a surviving Stark is stashed…. Right here. This tiny little island not so far away. An island of unicorns and sparkly things! Well if ‘sparkle’ means ‘cannibal crazy’ then it’s really, really sparkly.
Davos: … ho shit.
[Yeah, Davs that’s going to suck but you should try being an insomniac shadow-priestess serving a psycho god while trying to deal with stupid mortals objecting to your perfectly reasonable insistence on burning people and having shadowbabies…]
Mel: My LSD is failing!! I want Azor Ahai and I keep seeing Jon Snow, wtf?
R’hllor: Le sigh.
Mel: Sleep… must not sleep…
Fans: Sleep deprivation and sorcery has to be a great combination. O__o
Mel: Wow, my sorcery rocks balls up here. Can’t imagine why. Hey Rattleshirt.
Rattle: I hate that shirt. And being Rattle. I am so much hotter than this.
Mel: Yo Jon, remember when I said your rangers were screwed?
Jon: … Dammit.
RattleMance: You’ll get over them. Anyway I’m here to save your sister.
Jon: YOU? Oh, fuck this sorcery bullshit.
Mel: Don’t you want to help your sister?
Jon: …Why do I live in the creepiest place ever?
Bran: Dudebro don’t even talk to me about creepy. Let’s see you get warging-lessons from a corpse-tree.
[Back in Boltonworld, things really just never get less sociopathic. EVER. This is like the family Hannibal Lecter dreams of having]
Reek: I would take the treecorpse lessons over the Dreadfort. Boltons are no sorcery, all creep.
Roose: Speaking of that, Ramsay, could you dial the Nightmare Fuel down a couple notches? You’re making a spectacle of yourself.
Ramsay: NEVAR! DO NOT INSULT MAH ART!
Roose: Are you sure you’re even mine? My kids knew how to do sociopathy well and you, bastard baby, suck at it. So you behave yourself at Winterfell.
Ramsay: *SEETHES* I burned it! It’s mine to do whatever with! Mine! Mine mine mine!
Roose: Ironmen burned it. Gods you can’t even keep your story straight. Where did I go wrong? I raised better serial killers than this surely.
Summer: I’m just stepping in here to say that as of this scene I am positive the internet will produce Ramsay/Cersei/Qyburn fic, Ramsey/Cersei, and probably Roose/Tywin. Ramsei and… Toose? Roowin? Whatever. Y’all know it’s out there. Waiting for you.
Roose: Since you don’t have an X-Box, I’m taking your Reek away for a week while you think about how real serial killers behave.
Ramsay: NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
Roose: That boy needs a good leeching, but it would just be wasting good leeches, tbh.
Reek: …
Roose: Let me now exposit a bit about our psychotic family. You know if Walda gets preggers, Ramsay will probably kill the kid and she’ll be rather upset about that. I’m deciding if I object to the idea of her being upset. Perhaps I need more leeches.
Lady Dustin: Roose, there you are! Where is… ewww what’s that?
Roose: Well… it’s most of Theon Greyjoy? Minus a few bits and sundry pieces.
Reek: … ho shit.
[This week on the Perils of Tyrion, we’re bobbing along on the beautiful briny sea... and Tyrion attempts to make a new friend!]
Tyrion: That girl has the worst name evar.
Jorah: Her name is Penny.
Tyrion: It’s a stupid name.
Jorah: Tyrion isn’t that great either by some standards.
Tyrion: … she looks lonely.
Jorah: This can’t be your first day at kindergarten. Go make friends while I continue pining myself to death over here.
Tyrion: … Sorry ‘bout ur bro, um, person.
Penny: STFU, Tyrion.
Tyrion: …
Penny: Sorry. I’m just kind of lost and naïve and totally co-dependent and now I’m going to imprint on you.
Tyrion: … ho shit.
[The Underground Lair of the Children of the Forest... who we’re going to call Singers now? Or something. Anyway, at least there aren’t any zombies yet, or singing muppets either, just a Targ-treecorpse and lots of bones and petrified bats and dark places where we can all assume dark things are having a nap while they wait for Sauron or whatever]
Treebeard: Don’t tell me truth hurts little girl, it hurts like hell… but it’s only forever, not long at all…
Bran: Speaking of... Jojen why are you not more muppety?
Jojen: Because my part’s done and now I just have to hang out and be emo about it.
Meera: So what do you call you, tree-dude?
Treebeard: I used to be named Brynden once upon a time...
Fans: OMG! BLOODRAVEN! That’s where you went!
Treebeard: Oh, I see you all read the prequel books. Good for you. Bran, warg a raven- any raven!
Bran: *flies his raven into a wall* Ow! Worst first person shooter ever! So anyway, about ravens? Can you tell me something that will creep the audience out? They haven’t made horrified noises for at least ten pages.
Treebeard: You mean like how the ravens used to be able to talk and repeat the messages like creepy voice mail? Or how bits of a warg get stuck in whatever he wargs? So now the audience can freak out about how much of you is in Hodor or whatever.
Leaf the Child of the Forest: Here, eat these weirwood seeds and all will be revealed.
Bran: *_____* Ooh, trippy! I spy with my squillion eyes… blood sacrifice?! Ho shit. I’M AN IMMORTAL VAMPIRE TREE NOW??!
[Over at the wall, Jon brings home a stray giant because he’s got that thing about strays, and Ygritte cried about giants that one time and you never know when you’ll need a giant. And then we’re off to Meereen where everyone’s got Montezuma’s Revenge and Cholera and no concept of sanitation or electrolytes or medicine in general so that’s going to go well, right?]
Dany: ew bloody flux so gross. Good thing dragons are disease-resistant. Daario, before I marry Hizzum dum Tizzle let’s have sex.
Daario: Aw hells yeah. Then I’ll get pissed off about how you’re marrying someone else and we’ll have a tragic lovers’ spat about it before I stomp off.
[While Dany gets hot mercenary sex to break up that dry spell she’s had since Drogo died, or maybe before or after that because who even knows anymore? This happens at Winterfell:]
Jeyne: Help!!
Theon: Shhh, the trees are talking… I’m probably just batshit crazy at this point but I don’t care they are talking! Talking! For meeeee! They know me!
Worst Wedding Night In Westeros: *happens*
[And then the worst threesome ever in any universe happens, and yes I’m including Gor novels, that one fanfic where Merry and Pippin had a threesome with Treebeard, and even THIS. (warning: that link leads to Celebrian, most terrifying of all badfic)]
Fans: *go off to have a boiling hot bath and find the brain bleach*
[And in the desert, the Dornish desert, the Mountain’s dead tonight!]
Dorne: *does a happy dance around Ser Gregor’s Skull*
Nym: *wears transparent clothes*
Ser Balon: Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down…
Arianne: Hey there, sexy sailor…
Ser Balon: FML.
Doran: Hey there, Sand Snakes, want to be part of my Scooby Gang?
Sand Snakes: Jenkies, Uncle Doran!
Fans: We’re going to need a new flow chart, aren’t we?
Doran: Tyene to the Sept, Nym to Kings Landing, Obara go chase Darkstar with Ser Balon, and Arianne… some other thing and I will now change the subject immediately so maybe no one will wonder what you’re going to be gearing up for. Because hey look, Volantene ships with elephants are heading for Westeros and that has to be Dany, right?
Fans: … someone needs to get these people a Twitter.
[Over at the Wall, things still suck and Jon is starting to wonder if the combined IQ went down with the temperature]
Edd: This is going to end badly.
Fans: That’s like the motto of Westeros.
Bowen and Co: Madness! *clutching pearls* Let the Wildlings all die!
Jon: Do you not get the fact that since the DEAD THINGS ARE WALKING, letting them die might be an issue??
Bowen and Co: *blinkblink* … no? What could possibly be wrong with letting the Others swell their legion ranks with innumerable dead?
Jon: I hate everyone.
[On the Perils of Tyrion... We’re still bobbing along on a beautiful briny sea!]
Tyrion: I’m bored so I’m going to go piss off Jorah!
Jorah: Job well done. *BEARSMASH*
Penny: OMGTYRION! What happened to your face this time…?
Tyrion: … I pissed off Jorah?
Penny: Didn’t your father teach you anything? Like ‘don’t piss off men in armor when you are half their size’?
Tyrion: You’re assuming my father was the teaching kind. Or the kind with any sort of soul. Anyway have you ever had sex, Penny?
Penny: … no? But now you mention it I’m going to go think about how you mentioned it and you’re the only other dwarf I know and I’ll get back to you.
Storm: *happens*
Penny: *smooches Tyrion*
Tyrion: !!! Um I’m… married. Yes, that’s it! I’m married! Tall girl, with me at the banquet…
Penny: The drop-dead gorgeous one? Srsly? OMG my feelings of inadequacy, how they multiply…
[Meanwhile that ship they’re all standing on is sinking but who cares about that when there are feelings to have?]
Penny: hey there’s another ship!!
Tyrion! YEYSHIP! *snogs Penny*
Penny: *____* Oh, Tyrion…
Jorah: It’s a slaver.
Tyrion: … ho shit.
[How to make ruined Winterfell creepier? Just add Boltons! YEY! Oh, and also a trip to the Department of Bitter Angsty Backstories!]
Lady Dustin :Yo Theon. Show me the crypts.
Theon: Why do you have such a raging hate-on for the Starks anyway?
Lady Dustin: So Brandon Stark and I were shagging and then his dad decided on a ridiculous gods-damned Tully marriage and then Brandon died and Cat suck-face Tully got Ned too, and then Ned took my husband south and got him killed. Screw you, Ned. Screw you all! HATERADE: I GOTS IT.
Theon: Wow someone needs to invent psychiatrists.
[Back to our gorgeous little MacGuffin and her gorgeous little sextoy...]
Dany: Sigh. I like sex with Daario. If only he was a prince or some junk like that. Look, Asha and I are parallelling in our love/lust for badass guys that are too lowborn to marry! Super literary, right?
Daario: You should probably hold court, bb. I’m just saying. You’ve kind of been slacking off.
Dany: aww, you sounded like a boyfriend! Can I have your class ring?
3 Dornishmen: Sup, Majesty?
Dany: … I think I’ve done this dance before. Who are you really?
Frog: I’m Prince Quentyn!
Dany: Lol! Like a story! No, srsly, u enchanted bb?
Quentyn: :| No?
Dany: Aw. And I was hoping you’d get cuter. Oh well, I’m engaged to Hazbro Zanzibar or whatever, sorry bout that. G2g sex up Daario again.
[Because Jon’s life isn’t sucky enough, we’re adding Selyse to it. Too bad we can’t lock Cersei and Selyse in a room for a while... ]
Selyse: Ew gross I’m getting North on my hem.
Jon: So gracious, oh my bearded queen.
Selyse: Oh and there’s a Braavosi banker with me although that’s not at all important since you aren’t short of money or anything.
Jon: A banker you say? *_____*
Tycho Nestoris: I’m here to give the fans something else to angst about as they try to decipher my indecipherable motivations! YEY! Let’s just hope I’m a bit more sane than my namesake.
Mully: OMGAGIRL! WE FOUND A GIRL! ON A HORSE! A GIRL! A REAL GIRL! OMG! What do we do with it?
Jon: ARYAAA-Oh wait.
Alys Karstark: HELP!
Jon: … ho shit.
[Off at Stabwarts School of Asassincraft and Ninjary, Arya’s getting ace marks]
Arya: Assassin school sort of sucks in a fun way. And yes, being blind is part of the curriculum because how else to become a mystic assassin? Here kitty kitty… Oh hay this is a fun trick! I am the cat! Wheee!
Assassin-Dumbledore: How in the hells did you…?
Arya: Hah! I got mad skillz, yo!