Game of Thrones 3.3 – Walk of Punishment

I got this, I got this, JEEZ.

I got this, I got this, JEEZ.

PREVIOUSLY: Dragons, nip slips (as in, slipped off by knife-point), Theon has a mysterious friend, and Wargs! And I realized tonight that the Wildling’s Warg is Mackenzie Crook. Aww, I like him.  Which means he’ll probably get raped.  Because there is a LOT of reference to rape in this episode, and I’m gathering that it’s a big ol’ rape-apalooza in the books, which…urgh. No me gusta.

ALSO: remember that Catelyn’s sister had a son with the Bad Touch-Boob Sucking (we referred to him in the past as Bad Boob for short.  Look, when your kid is old enough to be a Belieber, it’s time to get them off your teat.)  Onward, fellow fen!

 

Obligatory reminder that I am SPOILER FREE, as are many of our readers.  That means if it didn’t air, I don’t know it, and you should be cool and not ruin it for us.  There’s a difference between books and the show, and don’t  be a dick, be a dude, air on the side of caution, etc. Thankee sai!

We have a new city on the map, Riverrun – the long-house roof detail on the gear-map is so freaking cool.  I could watch an hour of this map opening up, I have to say.  We’re there with a viking-style funeral underway.  Robb and another man shove the boat into the water and walk up to the pier (in what looks like the fifth take, given the amount of water already on deck) to stand with Cate.  Ah, that was Lord Tully in the boat, her father.  And we’re at what will soon be the most awkward funeral in Westeros.

An archer stands proudly, draws his bow, lights an arrow and lets it fly.  And…misses. Hey, we all have off days, try again, buddy.  He’s got this one-  Er, nope. No he doesn’t. Somebody check the wind for this guy– Oh, there he goes with number three.  Third time’s the charm and all of that and son of a bitch hit the fucking boat.  A surly dude rips the bow from his hands, lights an arrow doesn’t even bother to look once he aims and gets nothing but net on that three-pointer from the back court.

Things to love here: flaming corpses, always.  That the Tully’s sigil is a fish (two of them?) and their armor is scaled.  And the sassy good archer, who turns out to be Lady Cate’s beloved black-sheep (black-fish) of an uncle.

Bad-archer simpers to Robb about how awesome he was in securing a mill while letting The Mountain go.  Uh, dumbass?  Robb wanted The Mountain for reasons.  Guess what he didn’t want?  A mill.  You know who wants a mill?  No one.  NO ONE WANTS MILLS.  Is there a mill in chess?  Nope.  Risk?  Nada.  Stratego? Are you kidding me?  Does Robb look like a baker? (He does have some sweet buns…)

Robb does not appreciate my cheesy pick up lines. Or the wonk with the mill.

Robb does not appreciate my cheesy pick up lines. Or the wonk with the mill.

Bad-Archer tries to say that it’s still okay, because he kidnapped two Lannisters!  Yeah, they’re second great-grandsons of uncle such and such twice removed, so they’re not so valuable, thanks.  Not to mention that you couldn’t hit a dead man, for fuck’s sake.  You’re useless, dude. The walking embodiment of tits on a wart hog. Lipstick on a pig. Screen door on a submarine. YOU GET MY POINT.

Tywin holds a Small Council at King’s Landing, lording over the event like the stone-cold mofo he is.  Baelish simpers up to him, ready to lick boots if only to stand close to real power, Uncle Fester (The Spider) rolls his eyes and takes a seat, Grand Meister Flash of the Spurious Five shakes his chains, and Tyrion waits for Cersei.

Who promptly picks up a chair and plonks it next to her father with a smart ass smile because this is a woman that is used to being the center of attention and holding a lot of power. Her dad gives her a pleased smile. Nice.  Tyrion sloooowly drags a chair to the foot of the table and compliments his father on choice of rooms and the bagel tray, earning a scowl.  Ha.

Tywin just wants to know where his only son Jaimie is. (Wow, dad, Tyrion is right. There.)  And…no one knows?  Really?  Isn’t Fester the Lord of Whispers or some shit?  THIS ISN’T AMATEUR HOUR, PEOPLE.  Next on the agenda is sending Baelish to Lysa – Cate’s sister – to make a match.  Baelish ain’t bothered about the Bad Boob Sucker – she’s got two of them, innit?  Littlefinger is good at sharing (you’d have to be to run and use a whore house). Also see: me throwing up.

Tyrion thinks this is a terrible idea.  Probably because he remembers the sight of Robin Arryn doing his calculus homework while suckling at his mom’s chest.  But also because it’s not really smart to send your Head Accountant away during wartime.  Well, that’s not a problem because Baelish isn’t Master of Coin any longer.

Tyrion is. Bum bum buuuuum!

Um, third generation money always ruins the empire, right?  Tyrion is awesome at spending it, not holding on to it, Dad.  He’s being set up for a spectacular failure, and everyone in the room knows it.  Well, they keep forgetting that Tyrion is smart as a crack on the cheek, so stuff your simpering false praise, Cersei.  (Side note, Fester’s ability to tear someone down with as few words as possible is one of the most glorious things to watch on this show.)

The soldiers that captured Brienne and Jaime sing a song about a hairy dude licking a young girl’s lady bucket after the RenFaire, because these people are born and bred romantics, that’s what. Brienne and Jaime are tied together on a horse, bickering and pulling each other’s pigtails metaphorically.  Then shit gets serious: Jaime’s all, “You know they’re going to rape you, right?  So…pretend it’s Renly and chill out so you don’t die.  I sort of like having the opportunity to hate your face every day.”

Brienne: Eff that in your B-hole, dude.
Jaime: No thanks.  But seriously, they’ll knock out your teeth if you fight.
Brienne: Uh… do I look like I care about my teeth? And what, if you were a lady you’d just take it?
Jaime: Fair point, one.  Two, hell no. If I was a lady, I’d make them kill me.

So what I’m taking away from this is that Jaime doesn’t think men can be raped, and he really likes Brienne and wants her to make it.  Aww, they’re buddies!

The sexiest blacksmith in the land, Gendry, fixes up some shoddy iron cuirass for Thoros.  Gendry?  Gotta level up that smithing, yo, and at least unlock some Steel to increase his DR. Something tells me we’re getting close to some Boss-level baddies. Arya doesn’t like this fraternizing with the enemy that’s going on, but Thoros points out that she’s not a prisoner, she’s a guest.  A guest that won’t be leaving without permission.  She’s too young to know how to play along until it’s safe in order to make an effective escape.  The Lannisters have that stuff on lock.  Well, and the Tyrells, too.

The Hound and the sassy archer flirt-fight as the group loads up.  And it seems that Cartman won’t be joining them on the road.  He’s staying behind to apprentice as head Cheesy Poof baker.  He even made a loaf of bread for Arya shaped like an amoeba.  I mean, a wolf.  Gendry was raised to not say anything unless it’s nice, awkwardly pats the wonk on the shoulder, and fails to take his shirt off.  I AM SORRY, I HAVE NEEDS.  The Brotherhood rolls out, Arya takes a bite (head – always eat the head first) and yells to Cartman that it’s tasty.  He’ll live on that compliment for years, I bet.

There’s a scene of exposition involving Cate and her Uncle.  Long and the short of it, Blackfish isn’t a positive nickname, but he can’t shake it after umpty years, and she mourns her father, Ned, and especially Rickon and Bran.  Blackfish tells her to suck it up and stay strong for Robb, but I’m thinking Cate could use a break from being strong.  She’s been strong for a long time now, and would just like to take a freaking break from being strong.  You got in the wrong business, m’lady.

Talisa bandages up the kidnapped Duggar children, I mean, Lannister kids, who ask with wide eyes if it’s true what they say about Robb Stark: he killed himself a bear when he was only three? Eats little boys?  No, that’s Uncle Fester.  Robb eats… Never mind.  (That bear song is pernicious.)

North of the Wall, Mance Rayder drags a group right into the middle of Lord Mormont’s avante garde art project. It’s a representation of man’s inner beast (a reoccurring theme) freeing oneself from it, and is also an homage to The Godfather and the Crab Nebula.  Mostly, it’s just a big ol’ spiral of horse bits.

Well now someone has to clean this up.

Well, now someone has to clean this up.

Um, what about the dead Crows we were promise, Warg?  Well, he DID see them…  Uh oh.  That means the Black Watch got the hydrophobie! The blue eyes of reanimation!  They got…the hunger.  Time to act! Gjördkr the Chîcken Eåter! Take 20 of your best men – and Jon – and get to Castle Black.  If Jon gives you trouble, toss him. Keep an eye for the Warning Beacon – that’s my signal, Mance says.

So…20 dudes against Castle Black?  These guys have mega-stones. Here’s to hoping Ygritte goes with them so poor Jon can get a little honey licked. I AM JUST REPEATING THE LYRICS TO THE SONG.

Speaking of the Black Watch, they come to Creepy Craster’s again, he of the awfulness and incest and donating boy babies to the Wight Walker cause.  Seriously, why haven’t they killed this guy?  One arrow, that’s all it would take.  Right in the think-boxer. (Porkins immediately looks around for Gilly because he’s that guy.)

All the ladies head up to the Chastity Mezzanine while Craster dares the Watch to say anything.  He’s a pious man, he says, thereby proving that he is the worst there is in all people, all rolled up into one sweaty-pated, lip-licking sicko.  A woman is wailing outside in pain, and Craster offers his support.  In the form of a warning or a beating.  Aww, he’s a good dad.  *hoark*

That taken care of, he points out that if the Watch was so hungry, why on earth didn’t they feast on Porkins?  That’s a fine rump roast that could get them all the way back to the castle.  Porkins leaves because that hurts his feelings (he is big boned) to go in search of Gilly.  You know, the interesting thing about her is- SHUT UP.

Not you, Porkins, the woman shrieking in the shack.  Oh, shit, that’s Gilly.  Giving birth.  Oh, Porkins, someone slipped her the tenderloin before you. He watches the hard business of child birth made even harder when its sex is revealed.  What is it?  “A circumcised appetizer for the Undead, m’lady!” Her face falls, and all Porkins wants to do is give her a cuddle and show her his back collection of MLP comics. (Don’t you think Porkins is a Brony?)

Theon’s squire-hero dude shows up as promised, freeing him from the Evil X of foot torture.  Theon’s weak, but he can still sit astride a horse if it means getting the eff out of there.  Squire-hero gets him a horse, all right, freaking Shadowfax, and maybe if you’re sneaking away from somewhere, don’t give the escapee a bright white steed that commands attention?  Theon hops aboard and races off to the east to meet Yara. (We learn that we’re not in the Iron Islands, which ruins my theory that it was Theon’s father testing his son’s loyalty.  Hm.)

Stannis is all “But baby, please!” as Fire-Crotch Mage leaves him.  He just wants to get laid, tries to smolder and give her a little of the Jorah Mormont sex-voice, but she actually rolls her eyes because “Your fires burn low, my king.”  Ooh, sick burn!

We learn a few things:

  • her hair is losing its color. Is this significant or a failure on costuming? My guess is the first.
  • he wants another shadow son to kill an enemy
  • neither he nor she has enough juice to make one.  
  • she needs his blood (a King’s blood) to do her magic, but it doesn’t have to be his. It can be a relative. (Uh, that’s convenient?)

Stannis?  This is what you fucking get.  Sassy bitches that birth smoke monsters and then don’t want the Kingly D.  [DIBS ON THAT BAND NAME.]

Speaking of sex voice, Jorah, Dany and Selmy are in Astapor, walking along the lovely shore.  (The bleeding slaves are so beautiful as they quietly die in the sunrise.) She’s against innocent people dying, and would prefer to skip that part of the throne-taking, thanks.  Jorah and Selmy do everything in their power to not pat her sweet, innocent head.

Jorah explains that if she feels so strongly about that, then hire the Unsullied.  They won’t rape and kill and plunder, they’ll only do what she says. “There a beast in every man that grows when you put a sword in their hand.”

Selmy sighs about how Dany’s brother was the last dragon.  AND NOW YOU’VE PISSED HER OFF, SELMY.  Time to buy some gee dee slaves. Let’s make a deal!

Daenerys: I want all the Unsullied. Plus the half-trained n00bs.
Kraznys: Stupid count whore poor dumb bitch fool, she can have 5.
Daenerys: I said all.
Kraznys: Idiot moron with no money but sweet ass good for nothing child can have 10.
Daenerys: I said all.  And you can have a dragon.
Jorah: KHALEESI NOOOOOOOO [I’m instantly pregnant]
Kraznys: Two dragons, stupid pig bitch dumb blonde lady count.
Daenerys: One. Plus the hot translator.
Kraznys: Done. Ha.

Dear Show: please tell me that Dany has been able to understand him, and that’s why what’s about to happen is going to happen.  I think she is going to give him a dragon, the dragon is going to burn the city to the ground, and then fly back to mama.  Because Dany is the gee dee Khaleesi. BUT DON’T TELL ME!

She tells Jorah and Selmy to never contradict Mommy in public again.  She gets the slave’s name: Missandei, makes sure she won’t run away to family (she has none) and Missandei agrees to follow Dany to death, if needs be. Because all men must die.

got Dany

OH SNAP!

Westeros’ hardest working whore Roz sexily stacks books as Tyrion’s manservant Pod looks on while her breasts heave and sway.  She’s stacking up the accounting books for Tyrion to take over.  Baelish strikes me as the Lehman Brothers type of accountant, and proves me right by saying, “You’ll learn they’re just numbers on a page.”  Tyrion steals Bronn away from a whore (omg), because they both want to give Pod a Cirque du Solieil-style de-virgining. That’s a mighty nice thank you for saving Tyrion’s life on the battlefield, m’lud. Tyrion drops a bag of gold for the ladies’ troubles and they leave him to it.

“Pace yourself, lad!” Bronn calls out. Ha. Back at his chambers, Bronn gets a quick accountancy lesson from Tyrion, when Tyrion’s worst fears are confirmed: King’s Landing is heavily in debt because Baelish is Bernie Madoff. And hey, here comes Pod back!  With…the bag of gold.

Did he not have… Oh yes, he had.  In lots of ways, even.  So, they want to curry favor?  Nope.  They asked you questions?  Not about you, m’lud. WHY DIDN’T THEY TAKE THE MONEY, POD?

…because I’m apparently Pod the Sex God? Bronn and Tyrion exchange looks, grab the wine, and make Pod explain in detail what sorcery he used to make a room full of hookers work pro bono. (More like pro boner, am I right?  I feel sick about that, I apologize.) Evidently Pod is freaking Forest Gump in this world.  “Well, I had the virgin whore, the BJ whore, whore contortionist, Jambalaya whore, whore scampi… Whores are like a box of chocolates: you lick their creamy center.”

Tell us everything. Spare no detail.

Tyrion: Tell us everything. Spare no detail.
Pod: They kept repeating try Pod. Whassit mean, m’lud?

I WAS A BEAR, A BEAR. Damn, that song.

Theon, astride Shadowfax, doesn’t make enough haste as a group of be-horsed thugs ride up on him, each carrying a Morningstar with +1 breath-taking and stop looking back over your shoulder, dummy, and ride!  Seriously, don’t they teach people how to serpentine here?  They knock him down, and one guy is feeling especially rapey this fine morning, and tells Theon he’s going to fuck him into the dirt.  

Before that can happen, though, Samwise Squire comes forth, arrowing potential rapist through the heart! It’s a bow imbued with soul suck, damage increase in daylight, and he takes the whole lot of them out, finishing with an arrow right into the almost-rapist’s face.  Awesome. And that last guy seemed to recognize our hero-squire, hm.  Theon’s pulled to his feet, called an honorific, and they make their way East.

Brienne and Jaime are tied to their respective trees (Jaime shackled), and of course all the dudes here are planning on raping Brienne, and Rochambeau for first rights.  GUYS.  FUCK EACH OTHER, OKAY?  Oil is cheap and plentiful. (Gah. Sorry.)

Ever honorable and believing in the honor of others, Brienne states her name, station, and what she was tasked with from the Lady Catelyn Stark, which was– No one cares, Brienne, because Cat’s a traitor. Also, you have a hole, they’ve got their swords in hand, and HEY FELLAS, KEEP IT IN YOUR HAND.  Try your other hand, call it a stranger.

Because she’s better than all of us put together, she fights four huge dudes all at once, to the point where she’s actually preventing them from doing anything to her aside from punching and kicking. Jaime sits cringing as she screams and bellows in the distance.  And because Jaime is actually awesome, he talks to their leader about how she’s a descendant of the Sapphire Islands, and her daddy would be most put out if her gemstone got cracked, you follow?

And while he’s at it, Jaime’s father could give him enough gold to make his grandchildren as fat and worthless as any lord. He’s so smooth here, and I just want to kiss him.  After washing his hair.  The leader calls off the rape then starts offering amenities.  How about we get you unchained from that tree?  Hungry?  Here’s a partridge for you, and fellas?  Bring me a carving knife.

What.

Jaime sighs in relief because finally someone has realized how important he is and is behaving civilly.  They’re being reasonable and he’s so–

HAMSTRINGED INTO A STUMP, WHAT. The men hold Jaime down as the leader sneers and says, “Yeah, I may have been born at night, but it weren’t last night, boy-o.” He thinks Jaime is such a privileged piece of shit, such a Daddy’s boy.  Well his daddy ain’t there now, is he?  Not there to stop him from jamming a huge-ass knife into Jaime’s eye, right?  Say Daddy one more time, he dares you.

“Da-

HAND CHOP!  Jaime stares in horror, screaming as his FUCKING RIGHT HAND FALLS AWAY FROM HIS BODY IN A HUGE SPURT OF BLOOD OH MY WHAAAAAT THAT IS HIS SWORD HAND!

THAT IS HIS SISTER’S FAVORITE HAND, COME ON!

got Jaime end 1 got jaime end 2

I SCREAMED TOO, JAIME!  I would like to apologize to my neighbors for the horrified shriek I bansheed out into the night as I watched this.  How the hell is he going to show Brienne all he knows now?  Wait, we’re going to have a Princess Bride thing happen with his left hand, I hope?  DON’T TELL ME.

The bear song plays, and it was interesting to me how the song focused on “the bear, the bear, the bear” when it started off all about the maiden fair.  You guys* just only think of women as wet holes, huh? Once done licking the honey, it’s all about your hair, going to the fair, and fighting other bears. (That’s a special club in WeHo, I might add.)

*you guys = asshole dudes, of which you aren’t. I hope.

Also interesting: by showing us Jaime’s reaction to Brienne’s almost-rape, it made it all the more horrible.  We saw Theon almost get it, but it wasn’t as frightening, huh?  Gah.

Next Week: I try and recover from my shock, a dragon is sold, there is possibly a wedding, and I hope to the Seven Gods that Craster is killed.  DON’T TELL ME!

You can read it here, in fact!