The Winter of Your Discontent: Game Of Thrones Season 7: Stormborn

This happy and not so private tête-à-tête is suddenly interrupted by the arrival (people do appear to arrive in cue and materialise out of thin air around these places) of a “Red Priestess from As'Shai” who has come to see Goldilocks. We would assume that the movement of Queens, their emissaries and armies should have been a covert operation but people seem to catch a whiff of anything happening anywhere, so it must be the ravens' fault. This priestess, who is conveniently cloaked in red, informs Goldilocks in a strange unintelligible language (that is fortunately translated in the subtitles) of a “prophecy” heeded by the “Lord of Light” which states that “the prince who was promised will bring the dawn”. Perplexed as we are about the nature and validity of these offerings Goldilocks claims she is no prince, (of course! She can’t grow a moustache but she has grown a pair of titties!) but she is quickly corrected by a member of her small entourage which claims that such convoluted language utilised by the priestess and her alike permits translation at will, so the full line ought to be “the prince or princess”. This small revelation seems to suit Goldilocks for she is all smiling now, but the priestess breaks her stride by informing her of one “Jon Snow”, now King of the North, who might also fit the bill of this “prophecy”. The priestess urges Goldilocks to summon Jon Snow, which she concedes to do by sending off one of the aforementioned perennial ravens, after Peter Dinklage's calm affirmative intervention, but only if after Johnny boy relents to her and “bends the knee”.

_{"Just tell him to bend it like Beckham!"}

Faster, it seems, than a raven bearing a parchment jotted with calligraphic letters that only a modern day laser printer could have crafted, we are transported to the old fort in the North, where this Jon Snow character, Red Sub-Queen and an elder man who seems important but we can’t really fathom why, are all sitting outside on a balcony, around a makeshift fireplace, as if a warm cosy room was nowhere to be found inside of any building. All of them are contemplating the scribblings on the note sent by Goldilocks via Peter Dinklage and all of them are agreeing that such invitations coming from such incredulous sources can only amount to a trap, but that it’s also essential that such a meet should happen on the grounds that it will provide another possible ally against their common threat.
It’s quite evident that Snow and his trope never heard of the prophecy mentioned above otherwise they would have known what's in the cards for them to do, which will nevertheless do.

_{"All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes .... wtf!"}

Another rally is taking place in another room, one containing that infamous throne that looks like it was crafted by someone battling numerous abandonment issues – where Cercei, First of Her Name (and Last of her kind) is currently sitting comfortably upon, informing her guests with a solemn voice, just like any other demagogue worth their salt, that the enemy, who from what we understand is no other than Goldilocks is about to descend on them all along with her three dragons and merrily-happily forever fuck their collective shit up. One of the lords in attendance, perhaps the less spineless of them all, voices his concern of this dragon business, to which Queen Bitch Cercei replies through the mouth of an aide sporting an immaculate shit-eating grin, standing by her that “a solution” (a final one perhaps?) is currently in development.

_{Look at me and my prickly heart}

Just after this merry meeting is dissolved, Queen Bitch's brother/lover Farmer Clooney runs after that least-spineless lord, Randall Tarly and asks him to totally join forces with Queen Bitch, especially against one named Olenna Tyrell which Tarly seems to have a soft spot for. Farmer Clooney, just like other demagogues and faith-handlers before him, asserts Tarly that after the war is finished he will be granted a prestigious position amongst what's left of the Kingdom or Kingdoms, to which he probably relents but we don't get to see that because …

_{"Yes you bastard, even Olenna Tyrell!"}

… we cut-scene in a room where our hapless friend, Samwell Tarly (oh, oh, both of these men share the same last name and that makes us wonder...!) is aiding the old fart, the Arch-Meister in diagnosing a man inflicted with a peculiar and presumably rare skin disease called “Greyscale”. This is the same man previously inquiring from the depths of his cell about the “Dragon Queen” and as we observe his chest, neck and torso are tag-painted by the special effects team to resemble drying up lava after it has spurted itself out of the egregious mouth of an erupted volcano.
Arch-Meister takes the usual hard line of the expert in proclaiming that his ailment cannot be cured and that he will soon sink into the mouth of madness because of it, a sentiment not shared by our dear friend Concerned Sammy who thoughtfully and silently vacates the room behind the Arch-Meister, leading us to ponder of his intentions which we don’t get to find out because ….

_{What on Daggerfell is this shit?"}

… we again cut-scene in a castle basement filled with the skeletons of a myriad of dead animals sporting razor sharp teeth, draped in the shadows produced by a torch-wielding shit-eating grinning aide to Queen Bitch Cercei who wistfully follows him around the room and into a corner where the skull of a dragon (Balerion the Dread and now Balerion the Dead) lies dusty, solemn and still. Shit-Eater prods Queen Bitch across the great skull where he unravels an enormous crossbow, presumably built in a covert laboratory and meticulously transported there by a horde of slaves, and urges her to take a pot-shot at the skull, which she does, piercing its temple with a long and powerful iron bolt. Queen Bitch assumes a shit-eating grin herself bringing up the total quota of shit-eating grins in the room to two, leading us to assume that she is inexplicably pleased with herself.

_{"Balerion the Dead at your servishhhh"}

Retreat back to the map-room where Goldilocks and Peter Dinklage play host to a bunch of colourful characters. A lady dressed in grey-black military uniform that looks like a lesbian, another lady dressed in a colourful patterned robe which looks a bit like a lesbian and more like that girlfriend who is always full of demands and an older lady dressed in a black cloak resembling a chador who looks like she should have died a long time ago but stuck around out of sheer stubbornness. All three of them relentlessly question Goldilocks's motives as to why she summoned them there, but Peter Dinklage is quick to demonstrate by utilising the chessboard that is the map-table of the game-plan to which all of them and without an extra quarrel agree upon, much to Goldilocks's approval. Goldilocks has a private moment with the old hag which appears to be none other than Olenna Tyrell and who advises Goldi, not to take heed from her half-handyman and his temperate approach to warfare but instead unleash the dragon-force she commands upon the world.

_{We don't know where these people keep popping from}

As a brief interlude from all warmongering and fable-crafting, next, we are treated to a scene of intimacy between two members of Goldi's entourage. Now, I don't know these people but they both seem quite likeable. This scene is simple. Boy meets girl, boy confesses feelings to girl, girl reciprocates and they both end up naked on a bed (hey, nice boobies and ass by the way!). One thing that troubles us though is that the boy (as informed by the hordes of fanatical GoT consultants we employ) is lacking on one major department, he is, as is quite to our surprise revealed to us, dickless and the only thing we can think is that's surely going to make for an awkward grind!

_{"Just let me slide that in there now ...."}

The awkward grinding somehow transports us into the great halls of a library where Samwise Gamgee is trailing the Arch-Meister, posing as the human trestle upon which he stacks dusty tomes pulled out of dustier shelves. Sam “I have a plan” Tarly thinks that he knows how to cure Grayscale but the Arch-Meister is quick to shut him off utilising the triple evils of authority, fact-checking and pure assholiness. The scene quickly switches into the cell where Grayscale-man is sitting in full colour writing a letter addressed to a certain “Khaleesi” when the door opens and in rushes everybody's friend Samwell pushing a wooden cart laden with various medical utensils. Grayscale man doesn't know what to make of this situation but he quickly learns, when Sam asks him to strip naked and bite on a piece of leather, that Samwell intents to operate on him that night, using a procedure that will most certainly fail and that he hasn't ever practised before, all these because he once knew his father. Grayscale surely must be at the end of his wits because he does bite the bullet, and the leather, permitting Sam to cut away his sickness using a scalpel. As we understand from all the horse riding, sword swinging and dragon slaying the show is taking place in an alternate medieval-time period, local or total anaesthesia has not yet been invented, so Grayscale-man can only rely on large swigs of rum coming from a flask for pain relief, a plan which, as witnessed, is quick to fail.

_{"Easy come, easy go, will you let me go .... Bismillah, no!"}

In one masterful stroke of combined scene-matics, Samwell's scalpel digging into the infected flesh transforms into a spoon coming out of the broken crust of a baked pie and we are found sitting at the mess hall of some inn where another friend of ours, Murder-Frenzy (otherwise Unwaxed Eyebrows) is eavesdropping on the pie-eating dudes and their plans to travel to King's Landing. A fat boy arrives at her table, holding a tray which itself upholds some more pies, the boy is called Hot Pie and no we didn't make that up it was in the god-damned script. Murder-Frenzy “borrows” one of Hot Pie's pies and while she is devouring it she learns from him that Jon “The Dead Are-A-Coming” Snow is now the primary shaker and mover at Winterfell. This little titbit has her shaken and stirred because she bolts away only to be seen riding on horseback towards a direction we don’t know but safely assume to be towards where Snowmobile resides.

_{Murder Frenzy meets Hot Pie}

Next scene lo and behold, it’s Snowmobile himself! A message flies in (ravens, remember?) written by Samwell the Man, informing him of the presence of Dragonstone and Dragonglass somewhere, and this message when counted in conjunction with the other one sent by Peter Dinklage do strongly urge him to travel far away in order to meet with the Dragon lady. Johnnie boy expounds his idea in a hall filled to the brim with Northern Lords, all of whom stand aghast at his idea of leaving the Kingdom of the North without a head while he is out riding towards somewhere where he is bound to lose his head. Applying the simplest of rhetoric (he is speaking to mountain yokels, and he is a yokel himself) he convinces them of the validity of his arguments and anoints Red Sub-Queen to hold his place until he returns, a power thrust that pleases her more than a stiff one would ever do.

_{"The things a man has to do in order to ...."}

Having won his pre-emptive war against the opinions of his people Jon Snow is found deep in contemplation down some catacombs when the sly-mouthed, mouse-faced Lord Baelish approaches him offering seemingly wry words of consolation about things we haven't the faintest idea about, a move that angers Jon, especially when he mentions Red Sub-Queen Sansa and for that he proceeds to choke him against a wall while mouthing a dire warning – to stay away from her. Fun times.

_{Little Dread Riding Hoodlum}

As Jonny boy and his entourage are riding out of Winterfell, Murder-Frenzy who is apparently trying to get in gets ambushed by a pack of wolves in the middle of the forest while trying to kindle a fire which should gently warm her bones, if not her heart. She is confronted by the leader wolf who appears to be as big as her horse and in an attempt to maintain the fleeting suspension of disbelief this show is desperate to keep on about, Murder-Frenzy talks to the chief wolf addressing it with a female name (who the hell is Nymeria?), explaining to it/her of her plans. The wolf-pack does not rip Murder-Frenzy to shreds which offer us equal amounts of disappointment and delight, but instead turn their backs and leave her alone in a state of what-the-fuck-ness which totally reflects our own.

_{Orinoco Flow}

Black ironclad ships are shown, rendered in fine CGI we must say, sailing the seas of cheese. Inside one of the hulls, the black-clad lady who looks like a lesbian and the colourfully patterned lady that looks like your over the top girlfriend are flirting under the baleful eye of Black-clad lady's bodyguard who seems utterly displeased about everything. They share a kiss which amps our excitement and anticipation for girl-to-girl action, but our hopes are cut short by an overhead explosion which sends everyone hurling in distress upstairs. Another fleet seems to be attacking their ships and soon enough a warship rams into the side of their ship. Aggressors are shown rappelling in and soon our excitement and anticipation blooms up again as throats begin to slit open left and right.

_{His name is Euron and his face is a mess}

Pure chaos envelopes the seas of cheese, mist and blood and its soon clear that the aggressors will have their way, evident from the sheer amount of blood gushing out of opened wounds. Black-clad lady is locked in hand to hand combat with the master aggressor who appears to be the Iron Man who was previously cockily attempting to woo Queen Bitch Cercei. We also learn from the proceedings that Iron Man is Black-clad lady's uncle and that she wants to kill him and have the throne to the Iron Islands, Iron Fleet and everything pertaining iron to herself but it seems that the tables have turned! Iron Man easily wins the combat and takes Black-clad lady as a hostage while her bodyguard, seeing the scenes of utter destruction unfolding around him takes the brave and logical step of jumping off ship and into the gloomy black sea where he is left floating on a plank unlike a certain Jack Dawson, observing in bewilderment the burning remains of the fray around him.

_{Chaos and destruction turn out to be quite picturesque}

Onto credits. Cue dramatic music. Yawn.

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Did you go blind by the sheer might of the "Lord of the Light"? If you did you might have missed all previous episodes!
Stark No More!

Game Of Thrones Season 7: Revisited
Game Of Thrones Season 7: Dragonstone

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