“Hey, you are the Night King, right? You are much shorter in person . . .”
“The Door” a.k.a. the episode in which Bran Stark, binge-watcher of Warg-DVR, taker of naps, tree-hanger-outer, RUINS EVERYTHING! Also, this week, Sansa throws some much-awaited shade at Little Finger; Arya watches a porn version of Season 1 of GOT; and the winner of the Kingsmoot gets the medieval equivalent of a toilet bowl head-dunk swirly.
Let’s chat about it, shall we?
Sansa to Littlefinger: “Now I Know Why My Mom Dumped Your Ass.”
Our Little Sansa Stark is all grown up now, isn’t she? It seems like only yesterday, she was blindly following Littlefinger, letting him slide his snaky tongue down her throat, and allowing him to give her a Darth Sansa makeover.
Now, she’s making her own outfits (and Jon’s too, more on that later), has loyal Brienne at her side as the best bodyguard
who isn’t Cersei’s Zombie Mountain Dude ever, and isn’t taking any crap whatsoever from the man with the silly name, the even sillier mustache, and an accent whose country of origin changes in every other sentence.
“Do you know what Ramsey did to me?” Sansa interrogates her former ally icily, in a not so thinly-veiled allusion to that Controversial Brutal Rape Episode of the season past.
To Littlefinger’s credit, he looks deeply abashed, horrified, and contrite over this reveal, though its unclear whether this is because he cares for Sansa like a daughter, a lover (ick), or the best chance he has to get anywhere near the Iron Throne.
“You saved my life and rescued me from monsters who tortured and killed my family, and sold me to other monsters who tortured and killed my family,” Sansa rightfully seethes.
Sansa is soooo done with Littlefinger now. She doesn’t need his stupid army, led by that creepy Pee Wee Herman looking kid and his pet bird, thank you very much. And so Littlefinger is forced to shuffle out of the room with his head hung low, and his tail between his legs, like a dog who just got caught scooting his butt across a recently shampooed white carpet, seconds after pooping outside.
But, of course, our Machiavellian antihero still has one more card up his sleeve to play. “By the way, your uncle on your mom’s side (may she rest in peace) has an army that’s recently combined with mine / that Pee Wee Herman-looking kid’s. And both armies would be more loyal to you than your bastard half-brother . . . not that you care, or have any interest in becoming Future Queen of the World, or anything.”
See, that’s the thing about Littlefingers. They are excellent at planting even smaller seeds . . . that grow into massive weeds . . . which end up slowly but surely overtaking and destroying your entire garden . . .
Game of Boners
Meanwhile, over at Burgerless White Castle, that Nasty Ginger Chick is still beating the crap out of Arya, like the one-trick pony she clearly is. “You are never going to be one of us,” taunts The Evil Ginger.
“Why the heck would I want to be you? You spend your life washing naked dead people, and punching the blind, at a glorified fast food joint that doesn’t even serve the burgers with holes in them for which it became vaguely famous. #lifeambitionletdown” Arya retorts, or at least she would if she were me, instead of Nobody, which is not to say that I’m not also a nobody, but she’s a nobodier-Nobody and . . . OH NEVER MIND!
Anyway, Jagen pops by to tell Arya that she’s been so very good at being a blind girl and taking regular beatings that she’s earned the right to try and kill yet another completely innocent person. Hooray!
Arya’s target is conveniently the star of a porno version of Season 1 of Game of Thrones. (She plays the character of Cersei Lickmypenister.)
We know that this is the porno version, because the acting and special effects are really bad, Sansa’s boobs make an appearance, and, after its all over, the Joffrey character gives us a six-second close up of his genital warts for no good reason, whatsoever.
Poor Arya. It’s super hard and traumatizing for her to watch someone play her dad in a porno. Fortunately, his character gets his head chopped off, before she has to watch him get laid . . . the top head . . . not the bottom one. Then, Arya learns that the lady she’s supposed to kill enjoys drinking rum. And, obviously, all rum drinkers deserve instant death by poisoning, so it’s all good. (Unless, of course, it’s Malibu Rum, because that’s my favorite.)
When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Them Into Evil Ice People Who Will Bring About the Apocalypse
Once upon a time there were these tree people, who lived in the forest, and were super happy, because they didn’t have to wear clothes, or get jobs, or do any other sucky stuff like that. Then Mankind came. And Mankind was super douchey, chopping down trees, littering, making all the tree people register for Obamacare . . .
So, the tree people did what any environmental extremist hippies would do in such an untenable situation. They turned Mankind into an army of world-ending White Walkers, by shoving dragon glass in their chests. (Hey, if you had to walk around with a piece of dragon glass in your chest, you’d be pretty grumpy too!)
Think about that the next time you think about not recycling your cans and bottles, and only using one side of your printer paper, MANKIND!
YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELVES!
Kingsmoot: It’s Just Like the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election . . . But With More Toilet Bowl Swirlies
You know, after watching this episode of GOT, I think the U.S. political system has got things all wrong. All these primaries and caucuses, debates, and fund raising events. It’s all so time consuming!
I say, we just throw it all out the window, and have a Kingsmoot! Think about it. Hillary and Trump could just stand around outside, and tell everyone why we should vote for them. Then, after its all over, we could all go shove Trump’s head in a toilet bowl and give him a swirly (which, by the way, would be a massive improvement over his current hairstyle). Now, that’s what I call democracy!
So, yeah, long story short, no one really wants to be the King of Super Humid and Perpetually Raining Place (probably because its super humid and perpetually raining) except for two people: Yara Greyjoy and That Dude Who Killed Papa Greyjoy on the Bridge Last Week. (Note: That guy’s name is Euron, which you would think would be pronounced like “urine,” but, unfortunately, it isn’t.)
Some people think that Theon should apply to be king of Super Humid and Perpetually Raining Place, instead of Yara because he has a pen . . . umm, well, because he’s a boy. But Theon’s all, “You know, spending two seasons covered in feces and being referred to as Reek really puts a damper on your political aspirations. I’m going to let my sister Yara take this one.”
Yara seems relieved and pleasantly surprised that having his weiner cut off and being made to wear excrement as a t-shirt for a couple years has actually made her brother a nicer person! Inspired, she gives a nice why I should be QUEEN of Super Humid and Perpetually Raining Place, and earns a lot of goodwill from the crowd.
Then, that Urine Guy comes, makes a lot of penis jokes about Theon, brags about possible future sexcapades with Dany Targaryen, and promises to jail every woman who has an abortion / build a wall to keep out all minorities . . . wait . . . wrong election. Sorry!
So, of course, Urine Guy wins, because Mankind is awful! (Just ask the tree people from a few scenes back!)
To celebrate this victory, Super Humid and Perpetually Raining place has this tradition of dunking the winner’s head in the sea (because there were no toilet bowls in the middle ages, and that’s where everyone peed and pooed?) and holding it there until he loses consciousness. If the victor doesn’t die from this, he gets to be king. If he does die, oops!
Unfortunately, Urine lives. The good news though is that, while Urine’s face is swimming in the toilet bowl, Yara and Theon make off with all his best ships. Take that, New King Urine!
Love Means Never Having to Say: “My Arm is a Zombie and I Have Cooties For Life.”
Meanwhile over in Dany land, She of the Boobies Impervious to Fire is wondering out loud why kicked puppy Jorah keeps coming back to her for more abuse and increasingly painful cases of blue balls.
“The bad news is that my arm is a zombie, and eventually I will turn into one too because I have the incredibly not creatively named, Greyscale disease,” Jorah explains. “The good news is now I can tell myself that the reason you are not sleeping with me is that you don’t want to become a zombie, and not because you find my dad bod, balding head, and withered pre-Viagra weiner a turn off. P.S. I love you, XOXO.”
“I command you to find a cure for the incredibly not creatively named STD you have and come back to me,” proclaims Dany.
“Really? You want me back, because you are secretly in love with me too? That’s awesome,” exclaims Jorah, as he skips off into the sunset like a giddy school girl.
“You know he’s never coming back alive, right?” Daario whispers in Dany’s ear shortly thereafter.
“Obviously,” responds Dany.
“Feel like boning right now?” Daario adds.
“I thought you’d never ask!”
In other weiner news . . .
In Which Not-Melissandre Reminisces with Varys About That Time He Got His Weiner Wacked (Worst Spring Break Ever!)
Back in Mereen, Tyrion decides he needs to make the good folks living there who aren’t terrorists love Dany, despite the fact that she recently rode off on a dragon and left them all to die. To do this, Tyrion wants to hire Melissandre, but the GOT budget for this episode was too bloated with White Walker and Zombie fight scenes to pay the actress’ salary, so we end up with another red priestess named Not-Melissandre.
Not-Melissandre agrees to spread the word around town that Dany’s the sh*t, and Tyrion is thrilled. But Varys doesn’t trust her. “So, you think Dany is the chosen one now, huh?” Varys challenges. “Remember last season when you thought Stannis was the chosen one, and you birthed shadow babies out of your hoo-hah to murder his brother, burnt his daughter to a crisp, did some weird things with beetles, and then Stannis ended up dying anyway? What was up with that?”
“Melissandre did all those things. I’m Not-Melissandre. There’s a big difference,” explains Not-Melissandre matter-of-factly.
“No difference,” responds Varys, unimpressed. “All you women who wear red dresses on this show are exactly the same!”
“Oh really,” argues Not-Melissandre. “Did all women in red dresses ghost stalk you while you were getting your weiner chopped off and give you words of encouragement while it was happening, because this woman in a red dress did?”
“Wow, if I still had a weiner, I’d be totally turned on by how hard you are hitting on me right now,” admits Varys. “But I don’t, so I’m just really freaked out.”
Why DVR Warging Without Your GOT Watch Buddy Makes You a Bad Friend . . . And Could Possibly Bring About The End of The World.
So, you know how you have these certain friends or significant others with whom you just have to watch certain shows? And if one of you can’t watch the show at a certain date or time, its an unspoken rule that the other Show Buddy has to wait to watch it as well?
Well, apparently, nobody told Bran this. Because he totally, turned on the Warg DVR to watch GOT: The Flashback Years, while Old Man in the Tree was indisposed. (I think he might have been in the bathroom at the time.)
Bran tunes into this episode of GOT just as the Night King is raising his zombie army. And then, the “Smartest Stark” proceeds to just stand there next to this Really Scary Super Dangerous Guy like a doofus, until the Nights King grabs Bran’s hand, as if the two of them are boyfriend / girlfriend.
Bran is lucky this isn’t a horror movie. Because, if it was, this ding dong wouldn’t even make it past the opening credits. And the fact that he is DVR-Warging is no excuse. Even in our nightmares, we all know to run away from the axe murderer, the scary monster, and the evil lunch lady from first-grade who was so awful that she single-handedly ensured that you would never buy school lunch for the remainder of your public school career . . .
When Bran wakes up, he learns that during the DVR-Warging session, the Nights King has put some GPS tracking device on the kids arm, and now, basically, he and all his friends are doomed.
“You have to leave this place now,” exclaims Old Man in a Tree.
So, Bran does what any rational boy would do in such a life-threatening situation. He takes another nap . . .
In Which Jon Snow Gets a New Jacket
Back at the Wall, Sansa and Jon are talking about which families will join them in battling that Asshat Ramsey Bolton. “Ooh, I know, I know!” Sansa exclaims excitedly. “We can get the Tully Family army! Brienne can go and win them over on my . . . I mean OUR . . . behalf.”
“Did Littlefinger tell you to say that?” Jon wonders suspiciously.
“No,” fibs Sansa uncomfortably. “I just knew, OK.”
“Then, why do I hear him offstage laughing maniacally like the Joker from Batman?”
“That’s the sound of my stomach growling . . .” Sansa covers. “Indigestion from all this hearty Wall food.”
Later Brienne wonders whether Sansa will be safe on her own with Jon Snow and all his emo broody, recently back from the dead and suffering an existential crisis-ness. “I’ll be fine. Jon Snow’s my bro,” Sansa insists. “It’s not like we are both fighting to sit on the same Iron Throne or anything. Littlefinger, stop laughing maniacally. Everyone can hear you, and it’s totally blowing my cover!”
Just to show that there are no hard feelings, Sansa makes Jon a coat just like the one her dad was wearing the day that he got his head chopped off. Um, thanks?
Why It’s GOT’s Fault That, If You Are Ever Walking Behind Me Into a Building, I Probably Won’t Hold The Door Anymore
Meanwhile, back at the Tree on the Edge of the Apocalypse, Binge Watching Bran can’t resist watching another episode of GOT: The Flashback Years, while everyone else around him is rushing to save his ungrateful life. So, of course, we assume he’s going to choose the Tower of Joy episode that the rest of us want to watch, so we can finally figure out if Jon Snow is the love child of Rhaegan Targaryen and Lyanna Stark as many have suspected, right?
Nope, he chooses the same damn episode with his dad as a little kid that we’ve already seen before. Selfish brat!
At this point, the White Walkers and their zombie army have already penetrated the tree. So, now, Meera is stuck dragging dead-weight Bran to safety, while everyone else is forced to commit suicide to save that little sh*t’s life. Forest lady gives up her life first. Then comes Old Man in the Tree, because, after your TV Watch Buddy has betrayed you, there really is no reason to go on living. Next up is Summer the Direwolf, because the writers of this show apparently HATE adorable animals with a passion, but love lazy couch potatoes like Bran.
Seriously, STOP KILLING THE CUTE DIREWOLVES, SHOW WRITERS! It’s emotionally manipulative, mean-spirited, and never actually advances the plot. Just saying . . .
Because, all these characters have willingly offed themselves to save Bran, Meera is able to succeed in dragging him out of the tree. But he won’t be safe unless large, loyal to a fault, Hodor can bar the zombies and walkers from escaping the tree until Meera and Bran are out of sight. “Hold the door,” Meera exclaims, over and over again.
So Hodor’s giant body fights to protect dumbass Bran, by blocking the door to the tree house while being ripped apart by zombies.
Back in DVR-Warg world, reality has once again intruded upon Bran’s flashback fantasies. This time its young Hodor whose impacted, and forced to relive the zombie demise he’s doomed to inevitably experience years later. Instantly young Hodor collapses to the floor and begins seizing, “Hold the door. Hold the door. Hold the door,” he repeats frantically over and over again, until the three words merge into one and become . . . you guessed it, Hodor.
And that’s it. That’s Hodor’s origin story . . . how the last words he’d ever utter in life, became the only words he’d say forever more . . . and all because Bran’s a schmuck.
R.I.P. Hodor, you were the strong and silent type. Plus, you had really great manners. In other words, you were my ideal man.
Also, R.I.P. Summer. You shouldn’t have died, but since you did, you should know that:
Until next time, Westeros!
Cross posted at Happy Nice Time People.