I think the question on everyone’s mind this week is: will Daenerys ever get some Chapstick? We also have new places on our gyro-map: Harrenhal (a burned ancient ruin, and I love that it just sits there on the moving map not moving) and Qarth, a city near Dothraki made of concentric circles. Ooh! Cool.
Two soldiers (we’ll later learn they’re Lannisters) tell lame dick jokes and make fun of gay Loras and Renly (although, “Loras has been stabbing Renly for years, and he ain’t dead yet,” is a pretty good joke) when one of them says, “Did you hear something?”
That means GTFO, dummy. But Dummy says, “Nah. Pull my finger!” And that’s when he’s Direwolf’d. Pan to Robb Stark and his men sitting astride their horses in the dark, being awesome. Sneak attack bonus! The army of the North has killed the Lannisters 5:1, and the field is littered with the dead. Nice work, Robb!
He wanders through the bodies looking all handsome and tortured when he hears a young man screaming about not wanting his foot cut off. What a baby. But hold the sword, who is that beautiful bloodied and dirty creature who wants to do the sawing? Robb gets closer to investigate, loves how she wields a tool of evil, and is instantly in love. She’s eye-rolly, though.
Robb: Say, what’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a war like this?
Girl: Sawing feet off the people your men attack?
Robb: Right! Well. Job security then, oho?
Girl: Call me Talisa. I’m not a ho. And you know, I think I could do with a spot of not working, actually.
Robb: Can you see the hearts in my eyes? They’re for you, m’lady.
Talisa: So…what’s your big plan after everyone loses their feet?
Robb: Huh. Um. I go back home?
Talisa: For the love of… later, boner.
Robb: M’lady! The smell of rotten flesh and the screams of the dying will forever remind me of your delicate beauty!
Joffrey, aka King Weaselteat, has a new toy! It’s a crossbow. And he’s got it pointed at Sansa, who is kneeling before the Iron Throne pleading for her life, because she has the worst fiance ever. He wants to William Tell her face because of the little stunt Robb Stark pulled, even though she had nothing to do with it. Weaselteat cares not; he wants to play with his new toy.
Weaselteat’s henchman skulks in the background. “Yeah, see? Your brother’s a no good dirty rat, see? Killed the Lannisters and made sausages of them and then they made everyone eat them like it was Nathan’s Day on Coney Island.”
And Joffrey has a sad because, golly, he wants to shoot her so badly, but his mother will give him such a pinch. So how about Henchman (Meryn) just beats the holy hell out of her and…you know what? Let’s throw in some nudity to add to the humiliation. And Meryn is super excited to punch and kick and tear at poor Sansa, and Joffrey stands on his throne with a stupid grin and shrieks, “I am King Weaselteat!”
Tyrion comes in with Bronn and is all, WTF about it, as he should be. He gets onto Joffrey for being awful, then offers his hand to Sansa, because Tyrion is a gentleman and a scholar. Joffrey’s party is being ruined and he’s very angry about it, but he can get over it. Tyrion escorts Sansa out of the throne room, and at one point asks quietly if she’d like an end to the engagement.
“Why ever would you say that? I cahnt and he is my only love.” Sansa has some hardcore preservation skills, gang.
Bronn mentions to Tyrion that maybe it’s time Joffrey dipped his wick because it’s possible that all of that poison built up inside that young man is evidently leading to the public flogging and his pinched face. Hmm. Tyrion knows a little something about…procurement. He’s on it.
Joffrey goes to his private chamber later to find the James Brown of hookers, Ros, waiting for him. Oh, and the silly-faced girl who was with Grand Maester Flash before he was dungeon’d. So who’s up for a little slap and tickle, hmm?
Joffrey raises his hand. He is! Except screw the tickle. More slap. Uh, he said slap. Harder. Weaselteat is either pissed that Tyrion got him common whores or just really excited to destroy some real life dollies. He gives Ros a belt and when that just doesn’t quite do it for him, he hands her a massive staff. Raise your hand if you thought he was going to turn that into a dildo? THANKFULLY he just wants Ros to beat the girl to almost-death with it. Good times! And I would just like to present to the court of public opinion that this is what happens when two narcissistic assholes inbreed.
Littlefinger shows up at Renly’s court smarming and smirking his way to King #3 (Renly.) Renly can’t stand Littlefinger. You think Littlefinger cares? Pfft. He just wanted to let Renly know that should Renly storm King’s Landing he might just find the gates open. Pointed look.
Renly: You just know I’m going to win.
Littlefinger: Uh, duh? Rather fond of living, you see.
Later, Littlefinger spies Loras, the secret queen, peeling away from his sister Margaret, the legal queen, and slithers over to her for a game of twenty questions.
Littlefinger: So. Your brother and the King, eh? That’s basically my only question here.
Margaret: You’re not very good at this game. Also, I went to Vassar, State College, Nice try. Good night!
One of Daenerys’ blood riders comes back all excited and happy: he’s found people, and they’re totally excited for her to come visit! Qarth is like, the best. Oh, and they want you to bring your dragons, Khaleesi. Hmm. Jorah glowers and narrows his eyes, gives an emphatic speech about being on their guard and how Qarth is known for the “garden of bones.” Sounds legit, let’s go!
We head over to Harrenhal where Gendry, Cartman, and Arya are being led in chains. It’s clearly an ancient ruin—and we’re told briefly it was destroyed by dragon fire, and that’s why the stone parapets are all melty like candles. Damn! There are filthy and bedraggled people all over the place moaning. The Lannister soldiers (for that’s who has the Black Watch kids) are having a bit of torture before tea. A woman with eyes that have Seen Things mutters that the person being killed was her son. And her whole family has been killed, one by one. The Lannister camp is looking for information and are happy to kill to get it. Industrious little family, aren’t they?
Later that night, Arya lies in a wet, open stable muttering the name of the people she wants vengeance upon: The Hound, Cersei, Ilyn Payne (the man who beheaded her dad), and Joffrey.
At Renly’s camp, Lady Cat Stark sees Littlefinger and goes bananas. Traitor! Liar! Treacherous scum! Half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf-herder! No, no, Lady Stark, you don’t understand! Littlefinger threatened Ned out of respect! And hey, sure, he’s dead. But now maybe the two of you can get together?
Uh, how much of HELL NO do you understand? Littlefinger hints that Sansa and Arya are both fine and well, but maybe not for long. And he can help get them back if only Cat releases Jamie Lannister? Nope. Well, maybe the bones of her dead husband will help sweeten the deal? How about you walk away, Littlefinger, and let Cat cry over her dead husband’s body, hmm? He leaves and she’s tough as nails and has the bones of her murdered husband under her nose. Cat Stark: tough mudder.
Arya’s group is rounded up for some more torture. The Mountain, who is The Hound’s brother, scans the group and pulls a red shirt from them. Redshirt gets the Rat Strap: bare belly, rat in a bucket strapped over bare belly, fire applied to bucket until rat goes crazy and eats and scratches his way out. Which is really…erm, in. It’s simplicity at its finest. (Well, Khan’s mind-controlling earwigs were easier to apply, but still.)
So redshirt/stormtrooper dude is asked to confess. He don’t know nuffink! Then what do you know? Nuffink! RAT SCRABBLE HIM! The torturers are looking for the brotherhood, no one knows who the hell that is, but they do know that they’d rather not be rat scrabbled. Later that night Arya adds the torturer’s name to her list: Polliver. He also happens to be the guy with her sword. Oho!
Stannis and Renly meet at dawn to act like squabbling siblings, and Lady Cat is brought along for the ride.
Stannis: I’m your big brother. Yield the crown to me, monkey dick!
Renly: Look, Gary, I mean, Loras and I are going to be kings. SHIT. Margaret and I are-
Stannis: I said give me the kingdom, butt munch.
Cat: You two are acting like a couple of boobies.
Stannis: This is a family matter, bimbo!
Renly: No one likes you anyway, Stannis!
Stannis: She does!
Fire Crotch Mage: Simper.
Renly: Nice work, bro. Still not giving you the crown. It has antlers on it and makes me look butch!
Stannis: Until dawn then. [booger flick]
Dany and her rag tag bunch of Dothraki arrive at the city of Qarth, where they’re met by a small, but determined contingency of soldiers. You know, because they’re a threat with the whole “we’re about to die” thing. A non-pustule version of Baron Harkonnen (come on, that’s a good one if you’re nerdy enough) approaches and says that they are the 13, the rulers of Qarth, the greatest city blah blah. So… about those dragons?
Dany would love to show them off, but how about he lets her and her people inside so they can get a drink, take care of their chapped lips, and have another drink? Because they’re pretty close to dying, thanks ever so!
Harkonnen tells her—politely—to fuck off. Dany isn’t the Mother of Dragons for nothing, though, and she tells him that her dragons will grow and kill him horribly until he dies from it! Um…what about that “we’re about to die” stuff? Oooh, he got you there, Dany. (And there’s a purple-cloaked vampire-looking person who looks like the blood vessel for the Black Thorn’s leader from Angel. Um, I may watch a lot of genre programming.)
A massive dude comes forth—Xaro Xhoan Doxos, from the land of the Letter X—and he wants to let them in. He likes the cut of Dany’s jib and even performs a blood oath/voucher for her called a soumai. Nice. If Dany and her friends do any kind of damage to the hotel room, he has to pay the deposit. And now welcome inside! The gates open and it’s a Mediterranean wonderland! Water! Trees! It’s a lot like King’s Landing, minus all of the whores and Weaselteats.
Back at Harrenhal, the redshirt’s head is pounded onto a spike, which means it’s time for another torture session! And it’s Gendry! Oh shit. He gets rat strapped and asked about the brotherhood. He knows nothing about it, so they’re all, “Prepare to be rat scrabbled!” when Papa Tywin Lannister rolls up, pissed that all of these people are being killed. Can’t they clean the gardens or sweep up after horses or something? Must they all be scrabbled, Polliver?
Oh, and he spots right away that Arya’s a girl. He likes that she’s spunky, even if he has no idea who she is. (Right? I don’t know!) He needs a new cup bearer, so she’ll do. She’s barely paying attention because she is so close to getting her sword away from Polliver. Not the time, little thing. Not the time.
One of the ladyboy Lannisters (the one who banged Cersei last season) shows up at Tyrion’s place to do Cersei’s bidding. She wants Grand Maester Flash released, ASAP. Tyrion gives Ladyboy the side-eye and says, “Hm, lavender. Just like the smell between Cersei’s legs. So how’s that going, Cousin?” Uh…
Damn, who hasn’t Cersei banged? Get ya some, girlfriend! Maybe focus outside the family, though. Tyrion lays it out plainly: Joffrey will straight up kill Ladyboy. So maybe it would be best if Ladyboy tells Tyrion everything he wants to know so Tyrion isn’t prone to spilling the beans on him and Cersei, hm? Oh, and tell his sister that Grand Maester can be released, but he can’t go back to work. ‘Nite! Tyrion is a master chessman, and I love it.
Stannis talks to his righthand man Davos about how Davos used to be a smuggler, he owes Stannis, blah blah. Do one last job for me? Davos agrees, but to what is he agreeing? Oh, just getting Fire Crotch Mage to shore, no biggie.
Cut to: Davos and FCM in a boat coming onto shore in the dead of night. She’s all, “My god is an awesome GOD!” and he just wants to sleep in on Sundays, you know? When all of a sudden, she strips nude (she loves to do that, have you noticed?) and great googly moogly, she is like, hugely pregnant, and she just banged Stannis, like, three days ago!
She drops to the ground, begins her labor pains and what eldritch horror crawls from her nethers?! Black, inky evil swirls and pools and coalesces from her lady bucket, screaming and howling and stuttering into black, tendonous shape while Davos freaks the hell out in the corner. The thing stands on its feet with a Nazgul scream and I just want to beg everyone, “Why do you do this, Dimi??”
WHAT IS HAPPENING. I don’t know, I just know that I like it.
(Thanks for the patience with today, I’m currently in transit out of town, the site had DdoS attacks, but all is well at this point.) See you next Sunday and oh my GOD, I hope they tell us what dark magic Fire Crotch has birthed!