For all its violence, public beheadings, ball chop-offs, and toilet bowl stabbings, the world of Westeros was a surprisingly cordial place to live. Few people cursed, or raised their voices at one another, at least not while others were in earshot. In fact, winning the Game of Thrones, often required its players to smile genially at those they most detested, and inquire after their well being . . .while at the same time chopping their head off with a long sword.
This week’s installment of GOT depicted all of its characters, hiding their truly dark motivations, behind smiles and polite words. More specifically, “High Sparrow” featured Arya doing a little housekeeping, Sansa getting engaged again, Tommen getting a whole lot of nookie, Jon Snow getting a little head, Margaery beating Cersei in a verbal smackdown, and a High Septon being quite literally beaten by his religion.
Let’s review, shall we?
Wax on, Wax Off
If Jagen Hagar didn’t have such cool hair, most people would think he was a real prick. . .
Inside White Castle the House of Black and White, Arya has become Jaqen Hagar’s maid, sweeping the floors of the House for days on end. In fact, it seems like everyone who lives at the House has been converted into Jaqen’s personal Downton Abbey service staff . . . well, except maybe for this one old guy, who Jaqen seemingly murdered, by serving him poisoned water. (Maybe his cleaning abilities were sub par?)
It seems Jaqen comes from the Mr. Miyagi / Karate Kid school of warrior training. If you recall, Mr. Miyagi told the Karate Kid that “wax on, wax off” was the key to finding patience and discipline in battle, but really he just wanted someone to wash his car for free. . .
Likewise, Jaqen tells Arya she must learn to serve others , most specifically the “One God,” before she can learn to do cool things like scare hoodlums by occasionally turning into an old grumpy black man in a hoodie . . .
Arya responds by continuing to perform free labor for Jaqen. Mission accomplished! The floor of the House of Black and White has never looked cleaner. Jaqen might even be able to see his reflection in it . . . if he actually had a face . . .
In Which Tommen Gets Laid, and Cersei Gets Banished to the Loser Table
The happy day has finally come for Westeros’s favorite pedophile (Work harder, Littlefinger!) to finally get hitched to Cersei’s less psychotic, but more age inappropriate, son, Tommen. The populace is clearly thrilled! They haven’t been this happy, since about 100 years ago, when one of their beloved queens actually married a fetus (which, made exchanging vows complicated, but totally worth it).
As Tommen and Margaery exchange vows, Tommen couldn’t look more pleased with his excellent luck. Just last week he was playing in bed with Ser Pounce, Lady Whiskers and Boots. Now, he has a much larger pussy to call his very own . . .
That night, newlyweds Tommen and Margaery do the deed. And it’s just as gross as you imagined, but not as graphic as you might have feared, especially given that this is an HBO show. Most of the naughtiest bits are hidden from view underneath an exceptionally large comforter.
“Sex is awesome,” Tommen exclaims, after presumably giving Margaery the best one minute and twenty five seconds of her life. “The history books shall call me the Sex King, because this will be all I’ll do throughout my entire reign, while my mother runs the country to the ground.”
“You’re a big boy now, a married big boy” Margaery cautions. “You should send your mother away, and let me run the country to the ground for you.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound very nice,” posits Tommen. “I mean, my mother’s always been kind of a bitch, but she did give birth to me through an incestuous act with her twin brother, and . . .
“Sex,” Margaery argues calmly.
“Whatever, you say, my Queen. That evil wench is history,” Tommen capitulates.
“Your wife is very pretty. She sure smiles a lot,” Cersei tells Tommen, as the pair are walking the grounds together the next day.
To Cersei, smiling a lot is a sin on par with murdering one’s parents, cutting off their faces and wearing them for sport. She herself hasn’t smiled once since she was an infant, and that was only because she’d bitten off her nanny’s nose and thought it was hilarious.
“You should go away and live at Casterly Rock, so my wife can run Westeros to the ground instead of you, and I can have all the pussy I want, both the cat kind and the other kind,” Tommen replies.
Cersei is outraged by her son’s suggestion, and knows that evil smiling Margaery must be behind it. She immediately goes to see the new Queen to put her in her place. On her way, she overhears Margaery telling her ladies in waiting what a little horndog her son is. You know, because a mother loves nothing more than hearing detailed and graphic descriptions of the skill with which her prepubescent son screws . . .
“Oh, hello Cersei, I was so busy talking about the size of Tommen’s dong, I almost didn’t notice you standing there?” Margaery offers politely. “Tell me, was his father as well-endowed . . . his real one, I mean?”
What follows is the absolute best double-entendre laced conversation between two mean girls, I have ever witnessed. And it goes a little something like this . . .
Margaery: “I’m sorry I didn’t have any wine to serve you. It’s a bit early for us.”
(Translation: You are a disgusting old alcoholic hussy, and everybody knows it.)
Cersei: “Marriage agrees with you.”
(Translation: “Try not to poison this son, like you did my last one, because I don’t have any more left, you dumb pedophile bitch.”)
Margaery: “I’m so tired after so much rough sex with your son all night. But that can be expected, after all, he is half lion, half stag.”
(Translation: “Surprisingly, your kid doesn’t screw like the abomination / product of incest I know him to be.”)
Cersei: “That’s lovely.”
(Translation: “I hope you choke on my son’s cock, and die a horrible death.”)
Margaery: “With all the sex we’re having, you will be a grandmother in no time. And the populace will be so happy to see our spawn. But in the meantime, can I call you dowager queen?”
(Translation: “Our kid will probably come out with three heads because of the whole incest thing. P.S. You are an old bag.”)
Cersei: “If there is anything you need at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
(Translation: “I just peed in your cornflakes. Enjoy the rest of your urine-filled breakfast.”)
Rise, Darth Sansa!
Back at Winterfell, Ramsey Bolton has popped home with some happy souvenirs for his dad from his tax collecting business trip, about four or five gross flayed bodies. “Mmmm, nothing beats a nice celebratory steak dinner to celebrate a good old fashioned genocide,” he says triumphantly.
“You make me so proud, Bastard Son,” says Roose. “In fact, I’d like to reward your sociopathy by marrying you off to Dark!Sansa Stark.”
“Sansa Stark? Didn’t we brutally murder her entire family?” Ramsey asks.
“Details,” says Roose. “With her new goth hairdo, she’s totally your type.”
“Can we have flayed bodies as the centerpieces at the wedding tables?” Ramsey asks excitedly.
Meanwhile, Sansa is also learning of her impending nuptials from Littlefinger. “Not cool,” Sansa complains. “I dumped the tall blonde lady and her sex stud friend, because I thought you would better protect me from danger, despite the fact that you are creepy and clearly a pedophile. Now, you are marrying me off to the crazy guy who cut off Alfie Allen’s balls, last season?”
Littlefinger responds by totally invading Sansa’s personal face and sexually caressing her face like it’s the ring from Lord of the Rings, and he is Smeagol. “Your entire family (except for Arya, whose busy Mr. Miyagied at White Castle, and Bronn and Rickon, who nobody care about) were all brutally murdered, because they were too nice, and refused to get dirty by affiliating themselves with gross people like me and the Boltons. Your life has sucked so far. But now, you have cool black hair, and everything can be different. Rise Darth Sansa! And we can murder everybody else on this show, and live happily ever after together on a pile of their rotting fetid corpses, which coincidentally will be your new sigil, once you marry Ramsey Bolton.”
“Sounds good,” replies Sansa in a voice that sounds suspiciously like James Earl Jones.
She then gets back on her horse. And Littlefinger laughs maniacally as the two ride off together toward the gates of hell, a.k.a Winterfell.
In which, Renly and Brienne get the origin story you’ve been waiting for . . .
Pod and Brienne take a break from stalking Dark!Sansa to make camp, and bond a bit over S’Mores and stuff. (Did they have S’mores in Westeros.)
Brienne offers to train Pod to become a real fighter, figuring if he’s half as good with an iron sword, as he is rumored to be with the one between his legs, he’ll be a real champ at it.
Pod tells the story of how he became Tyrion’s squire, as punishment for eating a stolen ham. Brienne responds by telling this adorably awesome story about how Renly Baratheon saved her from becoming Stephen King’s Carrie, at a prom her father made to secure her a marriage, by dancing with her when none of the other boys would.
“Those boys are nasty little shits, and are not worth your tears,” whispered Renly in her ear. “So, um try not to burn down the gymnasium with your mind, and kill us all, mmm kay?”
And with that story, Renly officially became my favorite dead guy on this show . . .
How come all the good ones, end up being married, gay, or murdered by Shadows Born Between Melissandre’s legs?
Brienne admits that she deeply regrets not being able to protect Renly from his untimely, and frankly really weird, demise. “Nothing is more hateful than failing to protect the one you love,” she says, vowing to avenge Renly’s death by murdering Stannis, and his creepy shadow baby, once and for all.
Somewhere in Heaven, Renly Baratheon is pumping his fist in triumph . . .
The Perks of Being a Wall Flower . . .
Back at the Wall, Jon Snow formally rejects Stannis’ offer of legitimacy, because he’s not willing to leave his post as high commander to fight alongside Stannis’ army. Stannis is disappointed, but grudgingly respects Jon Snow’s honorable nature, even if he thinks he’s a moron, whose going to end up with his head on a pike like his father, Ed Stark.
Nice guys on this show, always finish last, after all.
It’s interesting how, in their own way, Sansa and Jon have both been given the same choice in this episode, and have chosen opposite paths. Sansa has chosen to get dirty, and play the game to avenge her family’s death, while Jon, for now, anyway, has chosen to stay clean, and watch from the sidelines, as an honorable bystander. Davos tells Jon as much, after his boss Stannis, has left the building.
“Part of the oath you took as a member of the Knights Watch was to protect the people,” Davos explains. “I mean, sure, you are protecting them from those white zombie things we see once every season, usually in the last five minutes of an episode. But wouldn’t it make more sense to protect them from those disgusting Boltons whose idea of interior decorating is hanging gross fetid bodies from the ceiling as chandeliers?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got like three more books to go, before I win the Game of Thrones, so it’s best I take my time,” responds Jon.
“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” says Davos.
“That’s what she said,” Jon answers truthfully.
In Which Arya Takes Her First Important Steps Toward Becoming a Homeless Looking Old Black Man
Back in Hamburger-less White Castle, Arya is getting hazed by a girl with the same haircut she has. The girl slaps her around a bit, and keeps asking her name. Jaqen intervenes and instructs Arya that, in order to truly become a Homeless Looking Old Black Man, she must first rid herself of “Arya Stark’s” possessions. Arya does as she’s told, throwing all her possessions in the river. However, she can’t quite bring herself to part with her trusty sword needle, so she hides it underneath some rocks.
Hey, even Homeless Looking Old Black Men need to protect themselves somehow . . .
Later that day, Arya helps the mean girl with her haircut to wash the body of the dude who drank poisoned water and died at the beginning of the episode. “What do we do with them after we wash them?” Arya asks.
“We put on a naked corpse puppet show,” girl with the same haircut responds.
Actually, she doesn’t say that, but wouldn’t it be weird if she did?
I’ve Got Friends in Low Places
Back at Winterfell Dark!Sansa puts on a nice show of being polite to those fetid Boltons, including her wackjob soon-to-be husband. When she goes to her room, her lady in waiting, offers her water to wash, and is extremely kind. “It is good to have you home, Lady Stark. The North remembers,” the woman tells her.”
Once alone, Sansa takes out her “People to Kill” list, and crosses off, Lady Who Gave Me Water. After all, someone is going to need to be there to help her and Littlefinger discard all those pesky dead bodies, after they’ve murdered all of Westeros . . .
Jon Snow Loves Gingers, Hates Baldies
In an interesting parallel between Jon’s rule of the Wall and Dany’s of Mereen, the new Commander of the Watch experiences his first resistance as ruler, and responds by choosing force over mercy, just as the Mother of Dragons did last week.
Deciding his strongest competition for leader, Allistair, deserves his respect, and will be a good ally to have in the future, Jon appoints him first ranger, giving the older gentleman watch over an adorable Ronald Weasley looking fellow hired to dig a new potty hole for all those dirty Wall Boys. Allistair is clearly satisfied with the appointment (and excited to finally get a new cleaner toilet).
Jon gets a much less appreciative response when he sends his other competitor for Commander, Janus, i.e. the wimpy one who hid an outhouse during their last battle, to fight far away in a remote town. “Shove it up your arse,” says the bald guy.
“Off with his head,” Jon responds, as he publicly decapitates Aging Mr. Clean in front of his peers, even after the latter cried like a bitch and begged for mercy.
Watching from above, Stannis offers Jon, an impressed thumbs up. “Decapitations are awesome,” says Stannis. “You may survive this series yet.”
Shortly thereafter, the entire army on the Wall decided to dye their hair red. Who knew being a ginger could save one’s life?
High Sparrow – 1, High Septon – 0
In Westeros, the High Septon is a pretty important guy, kind of like the pope, only without the cool bubble car. So, you could imagine the shock of the good people of Kings Landing, when that religious cult, the Sparrows, led by that guy Lancel, who used to screw Cersei, drag the old fat naked High Septon out of a brothel naked, and publicly shame him.
The Septon claims he was just giving some good old fashion naked counseling to some prostitutes in need. Cersei responds by visiting the High Sparrow, who is also old, but not nearly as fat as the High Septon, since he is the one who ordered the public shaming. The High Sparrow is humble, lives amongst the poor, doesn’t wear shoes, and smells like poo.
“Hey Sparrow,” Cersei says to the smelly religious guy, “How’d you like to be the new pope?”
In which Tyrion makes a new friend . ..
On the Road to Mother of Dragons, a restless Tyrion and Varys stop at a nearby town that may as well be called Danyville. All the priests sing her praises, all the whores dress like her and wear their hair like her. For a few Valor Morghulis coins, you can even get a t-shirt with Dany’s face on it, mouth wide open screaming, “WHERE ARE MY DRAGONS?”
Tyrion tries to win himself a prostitute but can’t seal the deal. Clearly, he’s still upset over the whole, “murdered my prostitute girlfriend, while my father was in the john, taking a break from boning her” thing.
He wanders upstairs, to piss his regrets off the side of a tall building, when he’s captured by a swarthy man, with a rope. “I’m taking you to see the Queen,” says Jorah Mormont.
“Thanks for the lift, that’s where I was headed anyway. Can Varys come too?” Tyrion responded . . . or at least that’s how he would respond, if he wasn’t bound and gagged.
And that was the High Sparrow, in a rather large nutshell. Until next time, my dear citizens of Westeros!