recap | TV Recappers Anonymous

WOW, George R.R. Martin must REALLY HATE marriage. (My apologies to his current wife, who I am sure is lovely.) Think about it. So far on GOT, we have had six weddings. One of them was red . . .

One of them was purple . . .

One of them ended with the blushing bride taking a flying solo honeymoon out of a moon door.

Sansa’s first marriage to Tyrion Lannister, though filled with great booze, wasn’t exactly a joy to behold either.

The fact that GOT’s “best” wedding was a marriage that could almost literally be considered a cradle robbing says something about the author’s views on holy matrimony.

This week, on Game of Thrones, the series’ war on weddings continues, when poor Sansa Stark experiences a wedding night so horrifying that, even if the producers didn’t thankfully fade to black after the first few seconds, most of us would have watched through our fingers anyway.

Also this week, Arya gets a promotion at Burgerless White Castle. Queen Margaery gets a major demotion. Bronn and Jamie play dress-up. And Tyrion and Jorah make some new friends with benefits, but, perhaps, not the kind of benefits they were hoping for.

Let’s review, shall we?

Two Truths and a Lie

When we last left the Artist Formerly Known as Arya Stark, she was scrubbing the naughty bits of some dead naked guy. When we meet up with her again, she’s still doing it. (He must have been REALLY dirty!)

“What’s up with all the creepy corpse washing we do?” Arya asks her new frenemy and fellow scrubber of dead nudists. “Is there like a Dead People Beauty Pageant in Burgerless White Castle that I should know about?”

Arya’s coworker at Burgerless White Castle, the highly unpleaseant Frenemy, is so very unwilling to give up the details about the Corpse Top Model reality show going on behind the Secret Door, she slams said door in poor Arya’s face, when the youngest Stark sister tries to get a peek.

In an effort to distract Arya from what a thankless, sh*t job it is working for Burgerless White Castle, Frenemy then decides to play a game with her colleague, which reminds me a bit of the game Two Truths and a Lie. In the game, Frenemy tells Arya this sob story about how she came to be a creepy corpse washer at Burgerless White Castle (something about an evil stepfather, I think?), and Arya has to determine which parts of the story are true, and which are fake.

“I have an androgynous haircut, just like you.”

(If this is what teenagers did for fun before the advent of technology, I can understand why the average life expectancy was so low. People were bored to death. Also, you know, murder, lack of modern medicine, poor nutrition and stuff. But mostly boredom.)

Later, Arya tries to play the same “fun” game with Jagen Hager, only this time, she’s the one telling the origin story, not Frenemy. Jagen, being Jagen, “generously” tries to make the game a bit more exciting and “high stakes” by punching Arya in the face whenever she lies, which is kind of rude, to be honest. Geez, Jagen! At least when the people who work at Burger-FULL White Castle get abused at work, they get free(or at least deeply discounted) bullet-hole ridden meat patties out of it. Arya gets bupkiss for her troubles! Just the opportunity to wash more smelly dead people. It’s not exactly a winning corporate bonus structure. (And for sure, Burgerless White Castle doesn’t offer a dental plan. Have you seen Jagen’s teeth?)

Given Jagen’s interpretation of Two Truths and a Lie, I’d be really frightened to see his take on other childhood classic games like Duck Duck Goose, Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and Simon Says. Something tells me his versions of those games involve regular and frequent ass kickings for Goose, the Donkey, and the person who didn’t listen to Simon’s instructions, respectively. Also they probably involve people talking like Yoda from Star Wars, because Jagen does that all the time. And I used to find it cool. But now I think it’s super annoying.

Still love Yoda though. Best dancer ever!

Later that day, Some Random Dad arrives at Burgerless White Castle with his dying daughter, and orders a cheeseburger with a side of fries. Just kidding, he orders the prompt death of his Terminal Disease Kid. “Would you like that homicide supersized, sir?” Arya inquires.

“Nah, just your standard mercy killing with a side of ketchup should be fine,” replies Some Random Dad.

Arya expertly murders Some Random Dad’s dying kid by claiming that, if she drinks the Instant Death Water from the Burgerless White Castle Fountain, it will heal all her pain. (She must really want to wash this girl’s corpse!) The young girl does as instructed.

“Dad wanted me to die at McDonalds instead, but I insisted on coming here after seeing the Harold and Kumar movie. That sh*t was awesome.”

Jagen is thrilled. (Such a Sadist, Jagen is!) So thrilled, in fact, that Arya gets to walk behind the Secret Door of Really Clean Corpses as her reward. Hooray!

Since I guess Braavos Next Top Corpse Model is on hiatus, all that Arya finds behind the door are a bunch of candles and some scary face masks, which may actually be real faces. How very Texas Chainsaw Massacre! While admiring one such face, Jagen tells Arya, that, even though she isn’t quite cool enough yet to be “no one,” she is currently cool enough to become someone else other than herself.

I hear the role of Donald Draper has recently become available, Arya . . .

Never Trust a Guy Whose Name is a Variation of Pinky

Meanwhile, over in Kings Landing, Littlefinger breaks the news to Cersei that (1) Sansa Stark is alive and well in Winterfell and set to marry that freak of nature, Ramsey Bolton; and (2) Stannis and his army are marching to Winterfell to murder the Boltons and take Winterfell for themselves. Two situations, which, coincidentally, Littlefinger has orchestrated himself.

But because playing god with three quarters of the cast of Game of Thrones is not nearly enough for this meddlesome Hand-y Man, Littlefinger makes Cersei an offer she can’t refuse. It involves Littlefinger sending his own army from the Vail to fight on behalf of the Lannisters, and taking Winterfell from whoever isn’t left dead of Roose and Stannis once they are done fighting. (Did YOU know Littlefinger had his own army? I didn’t know that.) In return, Littlefinger only asks that Cersei name him Warden of the North.

So to recap, Littlefinger has told Sansa that she will be Warden of the North, told Roose and Stannis each that they will be Warden of the North, and told Cersei that he will be warden of the North.

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

Speaking of shady . . .

The Trials and Tribulations of the Tyrells

Olenna Tyrell arrives in Kings Landing to throw some customary shade Cersei’s way, in hopes that she’ll shame Cersei for imprisoning Loras based on (1) his homosexuality, and (2) the fact that Loras doesn’t want to get into Cersei’s pants as much as her own brother does. “Everyone on this show who hasn’t already been brutally murdered, is pretty much gay,” Olena explains matter-of-factly to her granddaughter before entering into her verbal smackdown with the Queen Mother. “If the religious nutsos put all the gay people on this show in jail, GOT would become Orange is the New Black, basically.”

Unfortunately, it’s Cersei who has the last laugh, this time around. After waiting patiently while Loras admits under oath to Old Dirty Poo Smelling New Pope that he never “lied down” with another man, and Margaery swears to the truth of his statements, Loras’ erstwhile squire calls them both out as liars. He even goes as far as to describe a birthmark on Loras’ inner thigh, and to accuse Margaery of walking in on the couple in flagrante and not batting an eyelash. (Which, as we know, she most definitely did, in a way that was totally awesome, and most certainly did not deserve to be punished.) Margaery should only be punished for being the Most Popular Pedophile on the Show and nothing more. Because, aside from the whole pedophile thing, she’s positively lovely.

Boo Cersei! You are the worst! (Well, actually Ramsey is the worst. And Joffrey was the second worst. But you are a very close third.)

As both Margaery and Loras are dragged off to jail, Margaery calls to her prepubescent hubby, Tommen, for help. But he just stares off into space blankly, undoubtedly dreaming of all the pussy he’s going to get to play with now that his wife is no longer sharing his bed. I’m talking about his kittens, obviously. What did you think I was talking about?

Fun with Sand Snakes

Over in Dorne, Doran Martell hasn’t moved from his chair for about four weeks now (not even to go potty). I’m beginning to think he might have no legs. Book readers, is this true?

Meanwhile, young lovebirds, Myrcella Lannister and Trystane Martell ,are playing some serious tonsil hockey, and are super excited about their impending nuptials. It’s nice to know that some romance exists on this show that’s actually age appropriate, AND isn’t between two people who share DNA.

Speaking of romance, enter Jamie and Bronn, with their new groovy threads and super cool black stallions, to come rescue Myrcella from super sexy Spring Break Vacation Dorne, and return her to her rightful home in Smells Like Shit Kings Landing. Little Lannister Myrcella is understandably miffed by this idea.

Then, the Sand Snakes come to fight with Jamie and Bronn so THEY can kidnap Myrcella, except what they do looks must less like fighting and more like the cheesy line dancing you did at your cousin’s wedding last year.

Then Doran’s henchman, whose voice sounds eerily similar to James Earl Jones, rounds them all up and arrests them.

Because that’s just what this season needs, more characters in jail. Also, more cowbell . . .

Everything is better with cowbell.

In Which We Learn a Not-So-Little Dwarf Anatomy Lesson

Outside Valyria, Jorah and Tyrion get captured by a bunch of guys who think Tyrion’s weiner has magical powers, which is pretty much the most awesome compliment you could give Tyrion, when you think about it. (Maybe it’s like the hair on those troll dolls, where if you rub it enough, it brings you good luck. Though, admittedly, this trick most certainly did not work for Shea.)

“Should have gone with the four-leaf clover instead.”

The guys want to cut off Tyrion’s magical weiner, and carry it around like a lucky charm or rabbit’s foot, maybe even sell it for some serious cash. But Tyrion wisely explains to the men that his weiner is only worth something if people know it comes from a dwarf.

“We just assumed your Johnson was adorably, pint-sized like you,” says one of the guys.

“Actually, you should never judge a dwarf by the size of his dong . . . unless that dwarf is me, because my dong is massive,” Tyrion explains. “And I am awesome.”

Wait to go, Peter Dinklage! It’s not every day a male actor gets to admit to the television-watching world that he’s well endowed!

Anywhoo, Tyrion wisely convinces his would-be captors to keep his man bits intact, and not kill him and/or Jorah, by informing them that Jorah is a spectacular fighter. This gains Tyrion and Jorah passage to Mereen where they can battle in Dany’s recently-reopened fighting pits for cash and for the Mother of Dragon’s love, of course!

Well, Jorah will fight for cash and Dany’s love. Tyrion will just walk around town waving around his Magical Huge Cock.

Do you take this Psychopath to Be Your Lawfully Wedded Husband?

Wedding bells are ringing in the North, as Sansa suffers the indignity of being bathed by that bitch, Myrcella in preparation for her marriage to awful Ramsey. “Did you know that I help Ramsey kill all his former lovers, after he gets tired of porking them?” Myrcella notes conversationally.

“Wow, grow some self-respect, girlfriend. It’s clear your boyfriend is just not that into you, if he makes you wait around while he occasionally sticks his hot dog into others,” retorts naked Sansa.

It’s not even a nice looking hot dog. Kind of crooked, if you ask me.

It takes real balls to win a verbal smack down while in your birthday suit. And Sansa is going to need those balls for what’s about to happen next.

Dressed in her wedding finery, Sansa hears a knock at her door. It’s Theon / Reek ready and waiting to take her to her doom, er, I mean wedded bliss.

It’s fitting that the wedding takes place in the dark of night, and looks more like a funeral / ritual sacrifice than a happy occasion.

After the wedding, Sansa meets Super Scary Ramsey in his bedroom for her first official deflowering. (Too bad she doesn’t have Tyrion’s magical cock with her. It would come in extremely handy at a time like this.)

Ramsey, being a sadistic bastard, forces Theon/Reek to watch, as he savagely rips the back of Sansa’s dress, and violently enters her from the rear repeatedly. Her cries of anguish can be heard throughout the room, as the screen fades to black.

Unfortunately, there will be no mercy for Poor Sansa. At least not right now . . .

But if Joffrey’s death was any indication, something tells me the inevitable murder of Ramsey Bolton will be both absolutely disgusting and glorious to behold. No one messes with Darth Sansa Stark and lives to tell the tale.

Until next time . . .

You are what you steal. If this episode of Once taught us anything, it’s probably that.

From the time that we’re little, all of us are told to be good. Be kind. Don’t break the Ten Commandments, and such.

But are there times when the end justifies the means . . . loopholes where you can accomplish deeds traditionally seen as “bad” or “wrong” and yet still be able to look at yourself in the mirror each day and say, “I’m a good person?”

Maybe . . .

There sure was a lot of stealing going on in this episode, some for “moral,” “honorable” purposes, others for ridiculous, psychotic evil purposes. There were the tangible things like bottles of magical juice, both real and fake, money, a wallet, rent-controlled apartments. And then there were the less tangible things: a heart, a happy ending, the life of another, the face of another?

Confused? Perhaps, I should backtrack a bit . . .

Worst Chase Scene Ever . . .

Let me pose a scenario for you. You have a middle-aged, not particularly athletic-looking, alcoholic writer type running through the woods . . . well, actually it’s more like a leisurely, albeit slightly asthmatic jog. This gentleman is being pursued by two opposing parties.

Party One consists of a former thief and expert marksman, a kickass bail bondsman (who also happens to be a former thief), a dragon-slaying prince, and a swashbuckling pirate, all in their late twenties and relatively physically fit.

Party Two consists of a kind of rough-looking late 50-something guy who walks with a cane and occasionally, when it is convenient for the plot, has a severe limp.

So, how do you think this is going to go? Here are the three options:

Middle-aged, out-of-shape writer bests them all and gets away
Party One tackles his ass
Party Two limps his way to victory

If you chose answer (b) like a logical person or answer (a) like a slightly less logical person with a flare for the creative, you clearly have not been watching this show for a long enough time.

Rumpel wins this round, as we all knew he would, easily overtaking the Author, while Snow and Charming continue to fail miserably at every aspect of life that doesn’t involve “Twue Wuv” and Emma once again proves herself to be the worst bail bondsman ever.

Rumpel finds the Author attempting to slice some wood off a tree and use it to literally write himself out of the mess he’s gotten himself into. There’s only one problem. Apparently authors of fairytales can only write with quills from the Enchanted Forest, and Storybrooke’s forest is just a boring old forest whose only enchantment is the occasional Gypsy Moth problem . . .

Fortunately, Rumpel has a magical pen for the Author to borrow . . .

Unfortunately, he wants him to use it to turn Emma into an Asshole and give all the other Assholes in this story the happy endings they don’t deserve . . .

Ruh roh . . .

Still feeling high from his victory, Rumpel visits Regina in her lair to taunt her with a napkin Robin Hood used to scribble his digits for Regina. People who don’t use modern technology are so precious . . . except when they’re the Unibomber . . . or cultists.

Regina looks longingly at her cell phone into which Robin’s number has been dutifully entered. Should she call it? Wait for him to call her? Send a text with vaguely sexual innuendo-laden emoticons?

As she ponders this age-old question, we flash back to the not-so-distant past . . .