Rhaegar, in Accounting

"It's not all sex and dragons for everyone, Ned" -- someone in one of the books probably, who cares, shut up

[funkmaester]

“We need to hurry!”

“Oh is that what ‘we’ need to do? I’m hearing a lot of first-person plural from a guy whose contributions to the team are scowls. Seems like ‘we’ is code for ‘Meera’. I get it, you have dreams. I had dreams too, but life comes at you fast and now all I do is feed, protect and transport your ass wherever you want. This is some Virgin Mary shit right here. And let’s see how quickly ‘we’ turns into ‘Bran’ when we get to the world-saving...

[funkmaester]

Ok guys, it’s front, back, right, left, four-step and turn. Did you hear me, Tyrion? Four-step, THEN turn. None of this nonsense about you having to work twice as hard. Tell me again how two of your nephews hit puberty on the throne yet I had to spend like seven years ruling Sorta-Persia before y’all could even find a boat.

Oh and speaking of your nephews? If you think shit went south at Joffrey’s wedding, just see what happens if you fuck up this Wobble at my eventual wedding. JUST 👏🏻 SEE 👏🏻 WHAT 👏🏻 HAP 👏🏻 PENS 👏🏻.

Y’all got it? Ok, from the top. Five, six, seven, eight-

[funkmaester]

"For the honor of my father, I will slay thee-"

"Son I don't care what your daddy do, ain't no way I'm getting stabbed to death when that dragon is like 50 feet away. Nah bruh, if I'm going out today, I'm gonna make damn sure they say 'Barry was killed by a dragon' and not 'Barry was killed NEXT TO a dragon.'"

[funkmaester]

Yeah, it's House Glover. Like "one who gloves." And the sigil is a glove. I don't know, man, because House Fucking It's A Wolf But Like Slightly Bigger was taken. When your granddude shows up late at the Sigil Store during the sale, you kinda have to make do with what's left. ALL the animals are taken. Papa G was like "gimme a jaguar" and they said "there aren't any jaguars in Westeros" and he was like "well there's no jaguars in Jacksonville either" and they said "where is Jacksonville, also you can't have a cat because the Lannisters have a cat." Those motherfuckers got a monopoly on cats? Now we're stuck buying off the rack 'cause of those bottle-blonde patent trolls. Worst part was everyone kept calling us "Fister" instead of "Glover" and that led to a whole week of awkward conversations with my son Mittens. Could be worse, though. You know the Boltons? That whole "Flayed Man" thing? Yeah that was just a dude doing a jumping jack. They flipped that shit upside down and started cutting bros open just to look tough. Things are looking up for your boy Glovey, though. Last wee a group of black guys reached out about buying the sigil off of us. Oh I'm sorry, I forgot we have no frame of reference for black people in this part of the world. They're...actually there's no way for this to break right for me.

[funkmaester]

Hell yes, ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for the WORLD PREMIERE of Septa Diane right here on this Walk of Atonement.  You think that tin-eared wailing Septa Carol rolled out last time is the standard for a Walk? Nah bro, we about to change the game. Soon as this dusty cat in the Yeezy Season 4 burlap sack gets through all his index cards I am gonna rock your world. I'ma belt out "SHAME!" so strong y'all are gonna turn to each other and be like 'yo have we been saying Shame wrong this whole time?'  All due respect to the young lady next to me cause her body be bangin and also she is our designated ruler by law but ain't NOBODY talking about her Low Sparrow out in streets tomorrow. The watercooler talk is gonna be all "Who is Septa Diane?" and "How quickly can we invent Coachella so we have a place to hear Septa Diane sing again?" Obviously I'm being silly there, y'all know we wouldn't call it Coachella cause it's a fantasy world and all our proper nouns gotta be weird, we'd probably call it Cochela or Qocella but my point is that I will be AVAILABLE but my price will be STEEP.  I envy you dummies who don't realize all the stuff that's gonna happen tomorrow like having to update all the signs from King's Landing to Septa Diane's Landing and getting the location changed on Google Maps so it shows up right on your Instagram posts. That's all for later; we're still in the Before Times now and as soon as the Cers-layer down there shuts up and scoots on down the block we can get this show on the road.  Oh great, who invited the little twerp who dresses like Steven Seagal If He Had Money? What do you mean we ain't having a Walk today?! Nah, nah, I don't go down like that. I know we only have two songs in this whole damn universe but you best believe I'm gonna turn this experience into a 60-minute visual album that will CHANGE your LIFE.

[funkmaester]

Hold up there, fam. Our situation just went FUBAR because that demon Smurf dream-grabbed me? Let’s take a quick walk back through all of the information that should have come to the table before right now:

1. The Ice Bros have a leader who doesn’t look like a heavy metal roadie who died in a walk-in freezer, but instead like the guy you have to beat before you meet the Big Boss in Killer Instinct

2. This Head Ice Bro can see and touch me in my dreams, which stands in contrast to basically the only declarative statement you’ve ever made

3. If HIB touches me in said dreams I get a crappy handprint tattoo and he gets complete negation of the magic spell that seems to be our only line of defense?

What’s the curriculum of Tree Voyeur University? Where’s the lesson plan? It feels like some of this could have come up if we used our time better. I get five minutes at a time exploring the wonders of the world and then the balance of my day is spent in your Magical Yurt of Moss Farts, trying to find a comfortable position on the floor. Invest in some furniture, dude. My crippled homeboy down in Dorne – you know, the guy we’ll call Gaius Baltar, But Maybe Spanish? – he’s rolling around in a wheelthrone and the best we can manage in the North is a dragging board. At this point I can’t remember if I’m legit paralyzed or if my legs have just been asleep for a long time. Maybe one of these Ferngully creeps can shove a precious stone into a tree trunk and watch it turn into something with some back support, you feel?

And it’s lonely here, dawg. The Big Guy is rocking his personal brand. We wouldn’t even be in this situation if the Keebler elves knew how to carry a conversation. And you know I am not allowed to talk to the girl unless it moves the plot forward. I think she and I are dating now. Point is, you and I were supposed to have a connection. We both do Undertaker Eyes and watch my family’s old home movies. I thought that meant we could talk about things, but the awkward silences here in the Cave of Sadness are deafening.

At some point, you could have said “don’t let the blue guy touch you” and I would have been like “what blue guy” and you woulda been all “…” and I woulda been like “I hate this and I hate you” cause I’m still a teen and all, I know it’s hard to remember that because we were off the grid for a year and suddenly I look 27. Anyway eventually I would have come across Lord Shiverbritches and would have been like “oh shit waddup” and at least TRIED to not let him touch me. Then again, you can’t blame a guy for trying to get some sweet dream action since the only physical contact I had around here is when Susie Exposition gave me this haircut. Puberty has hit me hard and I can’t feel anything below my beltline; it’s a wonder that I haven’t exploded like one of the Lollipop Guild’s fiery Pokemon balls. Bad choice of words, probably.

So now that me and South Pol Pot brushed arms our merry band has to flee into the frozen tundra? Well let me ask you this: does the tundra have enough sticks and twigs to form a small pile around us? Because that’s what seems to pass for a top-line security system in this neck of the woods. For real, bruh, That kind of thinking will get a man scythed in his own living room oh wait that just happened to you. Fantastic. Welp, I guess this just goes to show that you can’t trust a weird old dude who has roots for a central nervous system. Guess it’s just you and me against the world, girl, at least until you deliver your last useful narrative reveal and are summarily killed off. Hey, have you seen my dog lately?