Lord of Light, I know you effed off back to nowhere now that a small assassin child defeated the Night King for you, but please, please lend me the strength to deal with Daenerys Targaryen and her mentally deficient nephew lover Jon Snow. These idiots. These absolute buffoons. Game of Thrones‘ third-to-final episode, “The Last of the Starks”, featured the Mother of Singular Dragon looking Sansa Stark dead-ass in the face and saying “this is a six-episode season, Sansa, we need to move on King’s Landing now,” despite the fact her entire army is either dead, exhausted from fighting the dead, or hungover af because they survived the dead. Thus began the hour-and-a-half long whoopsie-doodle fest from Dany and her compatriots, which ended with Rhaegal shot out of the sky by Euron Greyjoy—who discovered, after millennia of mystery and magic, that a dragon’s greatest weakness is “just a big fuckin’ harpoon”—half the Kingdom sharing the hot goss about Dany’s “rightful” claim to the throne, and poor Missandei of Naath dying on King’s Landing’s doorstep because, as it turns out, Cersei Lannister isn’t down to negotiate. If only there was some evidence this might happen. Perhaps under all this rubble where the Sept of Baelor used to be?
Ah, nevertheless. At least Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth finally got. it. on. (Before Jaime remembered the person lying next to him wasn’t a blood relative and bolted out of there.) Between Jaime/Brienne and Arya/Gendry, the North is turning into the place where ships go to land. Someone needs to transport Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to Winterfell so they can kiss, stat. Of all the mysteries this final Game of Thrones season is unraveling, I’m happy to finally know why the banner above those walls says “Winter is Coming.”
Anywho. I have questions. You have questions. Let’s get into it.