My God! This week’s episode was fan-fucking-tastic. Kudos to the showrunners and director, Miguel Sapochnik, for crafting an extraordinary hour of television. As you know, Game of Thrones has a pattern of going all out for each season’s penultimate episode. I can’t imagine what it cost them to stage that magnificent battle sequence at Winterfell. And all three of Daenerys’s kids came out to play alongside their mother…those niggas don’t come cheap. High fives all around, to the execs at HBO for allowing them to get that shit off because it gave me my entire life. This episode was full of calamity, carnage, flames and fuckery…and I loved it.
The stars of this week’s episode are as follows:
TYRION LANNISTER: a little ass man with a big ass head containing a big ass brain used to concoct shit like the brilliant defense strategy Team Meereen utilized to overtake the masters and their forces.
Tyrion and Daenerys are an unbeatable combination primarily because they’ve both mastered the ability to get out of sticky situations. Tyrion has the gift of gab. He can talk his way out of anything. His logic and reasoning skills are unmatched. Daenerys has the gift of flame resistant flesh. She can simply burn a hole in the bottom of her trick bag and slide out unscathed. So I wasn’t worried at all when Meereen found itself under siege at the end of last week’s episode. The masters were lighting that bitch up, bombarding the city with fire bombs launched from their enormous fleet of ships. In retaliation, Daenerys wants to destroy the masters and their cities. Tyrion tells her such thinking is rash and consistent with the type of ratched vagary that got her daddy stabbed by his brother the King Slayer. She should aspire to be better. Tyrion has a more reasonable approach.
Next we spy Team Meereen meeting with the Masters, listening patiently to their outrageous terms for surrender. Daenerys responds by informing the masters they were actually there to discuss Team Meereen’s terms for the masters’ surrender. Drogon swoops down, flapping his giant wings and baring his four rows of teeth. He lands and stands protectively in front of his mother, screeching at her antagonizers. Then Daenerys climbs onto his back and away they go. As they soar over the city, Viserion and Rhaegal blast their way out of a pyramid and join in the fun. The trio flies to the bay and circles the masters’ fleet. Then Daenerys shouts the word “Dracarys” and the dragons flame the ships on cue. My God. Can you imagine going up against a bitch with three flying beasts that can torch niggas on command? Only a fool would try her. But then again, fools are plentiful in the seven kingdoms. Speaking of which… the sons of the harpy are slaughtering a group of ordinary citizens just for the fuck of it. Daario and a massive horde of Dothraki warriors ride through and quickly put a stop to their lawlessness. Decapitation appears to be their preferred method of crime fighting…and its quite effective. Meanwhile back outside the palace, with their forces subdued, the masters find themselves at the mercy of the Mother of Dragons. In the words of the inimitable Tupac Shakur, “niggas love to scream peace after they start some shit.” How fitting that the masters now want to deal. Tyrion delivers their terms: they’re going to give up the rest of their fleet, cease with the slave shit and as punishment for trying it, one of them must die. Well, because they tried to play the blame game, two of the masters actually end up dead. The third is told to go back to his city and tell the people what went down in Meereen, emphasizing that he is alive solely because of the Queen’s mercy.
There is a popular fan theory that Tyrion and Daenerys are half siblings. I buy it…partially because I really want it to be true and because it makes sense. Tyrion has always wanted a dragon. He’s far too genial to be a full-blooded Lannister. He can communicate with the dragons. And Rhaegal and Viserion lack riders. Tyrion can ride one of them and scorch their Westerosian adversaries alongside Daenerys. Speaking of Westeros, it is my belief that Varys has traveled to Dorne to seek the support of the Sand Slugs in backing Daenerys’s claim for the Iron Throne. Perhaps they will provide the remaining ships needed to make the journey so they can finally get the fuck out of Meereen and sail to King’s Landing.
JON SNOW STARK TARGAREYN: former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a bastard with unconfirmed parentage, sourpuss, Sansa Stark’s brother or cousin, reluctant hero
Jon Snow Stark Targareyn has been in a pissy mood since being resurrected by the red witch. I mean prior to his death he was always very serious and brooding, but lately he’s had an attitude. Now I get very cranky when I am awakened abruptly from a deep sleep. So I can’t imagine a nigga shaking me out of necrosis, I might be really pissed…especially if I arose only to come back to the same shit that got killed me in the first place. Jon is tired of all the conflict. But ever since Ramsay called his ass out in the most fantastic written display of shit talking I’ve ever read, Jon has to do battle…again. And now he’s up against a renown psycho who will exploit every eradicative resource at his disposal destroy his opposition. My God.
Jon, Davos, Tormund, Lady Mormont and Sansa meet with Ramsay and company for the obligatory, now’s your last chance to surrender convo. Ramsay warmly greets his wife and proceeds to taunt his brother-in-law. They’re outnumbered, he’s got the advantage, yada yada yada. Jon Snow says they both can avoid the death of thousands if Ramsay will agree to fight him bastard on bastard. Ramsay doesn’t like the odds and smartly declines. Jon gets in a dig, noting to Ramsay that his men might not want to fight for him if they knew he wouldn’t fight for them. Good one Jon! Ramsay feels the sting of Jon’s words and in response he threatens poor Rickon. But for all the Starks know, Ramsay might not even have Rickon in his possession. As proof, Ramsay produces the head of Shaggydog, tossing it on the ground before them. Sansa has had enough of this nigga. She warns him that he will die tomorrow and gallops away on her horse. Ramsay has a few parting words of his own. He tells them he’ll feed them to his hounds. They haven’t eaten in seven days so they’ll appreciate the nourishment. Meanwhile, Lyanna Mormont mugs the shit out of his ass…fucking hilarious.
After Jon and his advisers adjourn their strategy meeting, Sansa pulls Jon to the side. She feels a way because she wasn’t consulted and she knows Ramsay better than anyone. Jon agrees and asks her what does she have to add. I thought for sure this bitch was going to use this opportunity to tell him that she’d written to my fav Littlefinger and requested the use of the army he offered her weeks ago. But that would be smart, and since this is Sansa we’re talking about, I am dumb for even thinking she’d be capable of doing some intelligent shit. What she does do is tell Jon how Ramsay plays games, lays traps and tricks niggas into fucking up. Then he seizes the opportunity to crush them. Sansa says all that tactical shit they were thinking up is ineffective against a nigga like Ramsay. Rickon is dead so it is useless to try and save him. Jon wants to know how she would suggest, based on her firsthand knowledge of Ramsay’s ruthlessness, they alter their strategy. Then this idiot says she doesn’t know shit about military shit and leaves in a huff. Jon is left to ponder her riddle and stress further about leading his troops to battle with the odds stacked so heavily against them. Just in case he catches another L, he swings by Melissandre’s tent and asks that she not resurrect him.
The sun rises and the opposing factions take the field. Jon and Tormund note that the success of their strategy depends on them waiting for Ramsay’s forces to come to them. If they instead charge Ramsay, they’ll be slaughtered. But before the fighting begins, Ramsay wants to play a game. He releases Rickon and tells him to run to the opposite side of the field to his brother/cousin Jon. Jon mounts his steed and gallops to the rescue. But his gallant efforts are a waste. Rickon, with his self-esteem shattered as a result of having no individual storyline for the whole of six seasons, decides to end it all. He runs in a straight line as Ramsey shoots arrows in his direction, and just as Jon is about to reach him, the final arrow strikes Rickon through the heart. Despite being a non fucking factor for his entire existence on the series, Rickon may rest knowing that his death was consequential. You see his death sparked a rage in Jon that finally elevated his combat skills to the level of fuck a nigga up by any means necessary. Honor and prudence were thrown out the window, and Jon the reckless barbarian emerged. He abandons his well laid battle plans and charges up the field by himself, preparing to take on all six-thousand of Ramsay’s forces. While I admire his valor, this shit was not smart. This is how I know that despite the lingering suspicions concerning Jon’s lineage, he is undoubtedly part Stark. Stupidity courses through their veins. Every Stark, despite his/her considerable virtues, is a perpetual fuckup.
The Bolton forces charge in Jon’s direction. Just when Jon is about to be trampled, the Stark forces surround him, and the two factions clash against one another. Jon the barbarian immediately begins slaying niggas. He is quick and efficient — slaughtering his opponents with precision and focus. Unlike his brother/cousin, he is also extremely adept at dodging projectiles. Ramsay’s crazy ass is firing a relentless onslaught of arrows heedlessly upon his own men as they rumble with the Stark soldiers. Davos and the forty remaining Stark soldiers rush into the fracas. Then the rest of the Bolton forces surround the horde of Stark soldiers in a pincer formation. Stark turncoat, Smalljon Umber, and a group of men clamor over the bodies and attack from behind. Tormund orders the wildlings to fall back. Jon tries to slice and dice his way through the clutter of corpses and fleeing wildlings but the chaos and disorder prove too much. Jon is trampled and nearly suffocates. But Jon has died before and despite being a miserable fuck, he isn’t too eager to die again….at least not like this. He wills himself to his feet and manages to climb up for air. Smalljon and Tormund get into a skirmish wherein Smalljon is head butting Tormund nearly to death! Just then, a horn sounds and the battlefield is covered by a vast shadow, Smalljon is momentarily distracted so Tormund is able to take him out by biting and stabbing his ass to death. My God. With the three-eyed Raven gone off to that majestic forest in the sky, a shadow of this magnitude could only be cast by the arrival of the shadiest nigga in the realm….Lord Petyr Baelish. Captain Cunning and the Knights of the Vale ride to the fucking rescue. They descend upon the Bolton forces and destroy what remains of them. Ramsay flees toward Winterfell with Jon, Tormund and Wun Wun in pursuit. Ramsay thinks he’s safe behind the walls but Wun Wun shows him otherwise, absorbing a torrent of arrows while crashing through the gates of the castle. Ramsay finishes him off by shooting an arrow into his eye. RIP Wun Wun. Now this nigga wants to fight Jon one on one. Jon advances toward Ramsay using a shield to block Ramsay’s arrows. Then Jon proceeds to beat Ramsay’s ass. He only stops because he spies Sansa watching. As Ramsay lies motionless on the ground, the banners carrying the Stark sigil are unfurled along the walls of the castle…these niggas have finally reclaimed their home.
But in order for Sansa to be the undisputed ruler of Winterfell, she has to actually kill her husband. So she puts him in the very kennel where his man-eating hounds devoured his stepmother and baby brother a few weeks ago. Despite his ominous circumstances, Ramsay continues to fuck with Sansa. She claps back telling his demented ass that no one will remember him, his words, his house…his entire existence will be forgotten. Then his hounds creep out of their cages. Ramsay seems confident that despite having not eaten in seven days, they will not attack him because they are loyal to him. But alas, the beasts are starving. One of them hoists himself onto Ramsay’s knees and licks his bloody face, ignoring Ramsay’s orders to heel. Then he lurches forward and snatches this nigga’s face off. Then they all begin to eat him alive as Sansa looks on with a satisfied smirk. See ya Ramsay.
Jon will go back to Castle Black to help them prepare for the arrival of the Night’s King. I don’t know if he’ll return there in his old capacity as the Lord Commander, I feel like that ship has sailed for him. But he can’t resist the opportunity to cape up and save niggas and right now the castle is extremely vulnerable. In exchange for his help, Littlefinger will propose marriage to Sansa so that he can secure the title he sorely covets, Warden of the North. Believe it or not, I am a proponent of this match. Why? Perhaps Littlefinger can help Sansa along in her evolution from a naïve and timid simpleton to a boss bitch by showing her how to actually play the game. This is essential if she hopes make it in a world where niggas don’t really win, they just survive.
DAENERYS TARGAREYN: CEO of Team Meereen, Ruler of the Realm, Flamer of Shit, mother to Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion, a human resources executive’s dream
Kudos to Daenerys for promoting diversity in the workplace. With the addition of Yara and Theon to its roster, Team Meereen now boasts an army of eunuchs, a dwarf, three dragons, a jigalo, a black woman, a sorceress, a tribe of horselords, a dickless nobleman and a lesbian warrior. And if that weren’t enough, Princess Pyro is all about female empowerment. She wants to help women break through the glass ceiling. You see, when Yara and Theon appear out of nowhere and request that she support Yara’s claim to the Salt Throne in exchange for a fleet of 100 ships, Daenerys was quite accommodating. Let’s be honest, if she wanted to, the bitch could just take their ships….that’s what she does, take shit from niggas. But instead, Daenerys was fair and gracious. She sees no need to wait around for Euron’s giant cock and considerably larger fleet. She and Yara are going to help one another. Daenerys even seems open to giving the Iron Islands their independence under Yara’s rule…the caveat being that the Iron Born have to stop their practice of sailing around, raiding and raping niggas. Yara reluctantly agrees and now a formidable alliance is forged. Team Meereen for the win.