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Count Balerion

Mellow drama, unleash insane megalomaniac, v. 2

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Minstral started a thread in which we were supposed to unleash our inner melodramatic drama queens.

So we did. Then the thread got kind of hijacked by an exciting story wherein the fate of Westeros hung in

the balance. Just as things got really exciting, the thread was eaten up by updates. Luckily (or un), I saved

most of it; so here it is. But feel free to post anything melodramatic (relevant or ir), so long of course as

within forum rules and whatnot.


Lady Blizzardborn died, I believe of the common cold, but I'm not sure.  Tim James was determined to

revive her, no matter what the cost.  Unfortunately, an evil Count got it into his head that he needed to eat

her heart in order to alleviate the torment caused by the bad dialogue of the Sand Snakes.  So he tried to

distract TJ with hot female Others.

Chapter 1.  The rebirth of Lady Blizzardborn

TJ: Sorry, Others aren't my type: I prefer warm-blooded gals. Call me racist (it probably is) but being

unable to speak in anything other than the chill screeches of the winds is a deal breaker for me.

 Besides, there aren't any ships that go from Sunspear to Hardhome. I only got a captain to make an



 But in any case, I have already made it past The Fist Of The First Men. Someone named Gared Tuttle

tried finding a grove of something, but when I explained to him the finer points of Basikisk Islander

Voodoo he decided he'd rather fall on his sword than live in a world where such things exist.

 Once I reach The Ice Lakes in The Lands Of Always Winter, I can preform the blood rites. Food is

running low, frostbite is setting in, and I hear voices in my head giving me garbled messages. I can not

sleep, and happiness is by an ever fading memory.

 Buuuuuuuuuut, just to be safe I will send three of my cultist followers to break Count Balerion's legs.

CB: This one is going to be more difficult than I anticipated in a puny mortal who isn't me. My guards

have caught some of his mindless minions and are now trying to brainwash them. My Evil Security

Administration urges war; but I'm a mild monster-of-utter-despair and prefer to try diplomacy first.

So I'm sending an undead demon vulture with a message in my own black blood, suggesting a deal: if he

doesn't interfere with my plan to devour Lady B's heart and let its life-juices soothe the abysm of my

sandsnaked being, I'll help him murder someone else and substitute her heart for Lady B's. But who?

Persicaria? West. Batgirl? Eeny-meeny-miney-mo ...

If my diplomatic overtures don't work, I'll just have to throw in more gratuitous changes in the plot, until

his being becomes a gibbering Rant and Rave thread.

ME! ME! ME! The bottomless pit of my ego must devour the universe!

Day of our Black Goat of Qohor 129,

 I recently encountered men of Ice called "Others". Because I could speak their tongue they spared my


 Unfortunately, the ice of nature's frosty wrath is less understanding. I can no longer feel anything that is

not below the epidural level. Temper is wearing thin, and my cultists are starting to wonder why I'm

making them eat each other by not letting them eat the frozen Blizzardborn I'm lugging around.

 But hope came at last: a demonic vulture flew in yammering on about some deal. This vulture was

delicious, and it's fat gave us enough energy to reach The Frozen Lakes of The Lands of Always Winter.

 I decided to thank that which brought us the vulture, and so sent one of my minions to bring Craster's fat

heart to the vulture's sender.

 After setting up ritualistic circle, I laid down Lady Blizzardborn's corpse in the middle. Then I began the

dark rite.




 A voice responded, the description of which would turn your blood to looking ice and would cause you to

curse that which brought you into existence.

 But Lady Blizzardborn's corpse began to move an show signs of life ...

Count Balerion:
OK, the gloves are off. I'm inventing several really cool new supervillains, including Batfinger and his

sidekick Olly and Super-Ramsay and the 20 Good Men, AND SENDING THEM OUT TOWREAK

DESTRUCTION ON NARRATIVE LOGIC!!!!! TJ is probably counting on this to make some kind of


I'll call it the Injustice League of Westeros. Perhaps I CAN BRIBE OTHER POSTERS TO JOIN IT w/

lucrative contracts. The ad slogan will read THE ABYSM WANTS YOU!!! How can they resist the evil

that blukhs out of every pore of my being?

The drag is that I may have to murder Lady B all over again. The other drag being that my soul is the vomit

of the Goat, and worse, it has a lump which I think is soul cancer!!!

#62    Lady Blizzardborn
Turns out I didn't die.  Sadly, that means the pain goes on, and on!

The cough won't leave either.  Agony......beyond power of speeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!  When the one thing

you waaaaaaaaaaaaaant, is the only thing out of your reeeeeeeeach.
Coming eventually: Advanced Crackpottery 4 - Daario Naharis, International Man of Mystery.

 #63    Timjames98
OH GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE!?!?!?!?!?!?



Oh cool, you're hands are so ... cold. I shall call you Icehands!

Now where was I?

[I'm posting this in installments in a probably vain (because of formatting problems) attempt at readability.]

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Chapter 2.  The Count is hungry

 #64    Persicaria
It is cold, dark and oppressive this far north. I stole a dead man's coin today, snapping the cold and brittle

fingers to seize the shiny piece of gold,except it was a Chuck e cheese coin. I fear this bodes ill news,

and perhaps some potential crossover materials with Nightmare at Freddy's. I shall have to write that in

my fanfiction, I mean journal.

In my loneliness only words comfort me, yet they also trouble me. Yesterday the postman delivered a

strange letter. At least, I think it was a postman. He was wearing, well actually he was all blue and kind of

jerking around really stiffly, kind of like the dead guy

A Count Balerion has made an odd proposition. I would be lying to say it doesn't intrigue me. Still, there

is something in the name that feels me with dread, or what could possibly be nausea.  

 #65    Timjames98

Oh God, OH GOD ... OH GOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just discovered an old Valyrian subway leading from the Other Populated City of Icetown all the way to

Highgarden. I could have taken this quick route instead of making a long and pained journey. At least Lady

Blizzardborn and I have a speedy route out if The Lands Of Always Winter; also I'm bringing Dirk and his

fellow Nights Watch Deserters with me.

I can spend a week mooching off Mace Tyrell and sleeping on his couch, then afterwards I can present my

findings to The Citadel. The Grey Sheep called me crazy when I announced my intention to bring a dead

person back to life and when I disembowled all those cult followers, but WHOSE CRAZY

"It will be a cold day in hell before I feel any sympathy for Cersei." - Cayrouse

 #66    Count Balerion

O Persicaria! Thou that predictedst that evil would result from Lady B's unhallowed resurrection, do thou

join my side (aside, and become my unwitting puppet of doom; soon people will be dating history from

ABC, Anno Balerionis Comitis, or the year the universe was engulfed in my gaping maw, which the Norse

called Gunningagap!)

For the salvation of the world, we must capture Lady B and re-kill her, before it is too late!!! Soon, as

thou foretoldest, she -- or IT -- will be writing political troll posteth and drinking the juice of human

mortals (aside: which actually tastes pretty good!)

The Sand Snakes are assaulting me again, they that causeth a libido of iron to retch. And both my wife

AND my mistress cheatedeth on me. ANGST! DESPAIR! AND OH, I LIKE THE WORD ABYSM!

PS.Thou shalt not escape me, Undead Lady B! My minions shall track thee wherever thou hidest, and the

busseth and trains thou sleekest to escapen in shall not come, the train stations shalt be closed, for public

transit is in my blood-stained gullet! Here Batfinger shalt accost thee with a marriage proposal, there

Super-Ramsay shalt hunt thee down; and my trained space eggplants shall write SURRENDER LADY B in

the sky!

I'll get you, my pretty, and your little heart too!

Lady B:
I'll never give up my magic shoes, CB!  Send what flying monkeys you will.

 #69    Timjames98
Why must evil always triumph in the middle?!?!?

 To fight this Injustice League and defend my malformed creations, I must assemble my own league. It

shall include The Mad Master[ of whispers] (his secret identity is Qyburn), The Mountian That Flyes

(Bran used his warging powers to perm inanely switch bodies with Gregor Clegane), his trusty sidekick

Hodor The Horrible, The Great And Powerful OS[grey] (his secret identity is lord Osgrey) and of course

Bittersteel in a power mech.

 Any who wish to stand for justice, feel free to join. Any who wish to run away and grovel for justice, at

least fork over some cash for the cause.

CB: Shoes! There's a thought. It worked for Imelda Marcos. Although I'm really more a skull-collector.

I can feel feel myself crossing the boundary between mere evil and utter hell. Perhaps in the end I'll

murder GRRM, if it creatively makes sense.

Westorosi Batgirl
I must defeat this Batfinger! Not only must I protect Lady Blizzardborn but I must destroy this taint on

my good name once and for all!

 I am vengeance, I am the night, I am... Arya (Lightning flashes briefly illuminating the silhouetted figure)

Chapter 3. The battle of the subway

 #72    Lady Blizzardborn

All right!  Which one of you has a Blizzardborn-shaped voodoo doll with pins stuck in its head, eyes, and

neck?  Someone is going to pay for this headache, I tell you!

 #73    Timjames98

Oh, sorry. I was knitting sweaters for the members of The Order Of Disorder to commemorate our fight

against The Injustice League. I needed somewhere to put my pins, and I thought that the You-Doll would

be safe as it's only made of synthetic basilisk skin.

I guess I'll have to use this pin-cushion instead.

  #74    Count Balerion
You and ULB [Undead Lady Blizzardborn] and your pals do realize that while you are wandering in the

underground passage you're trampling all over the shallow tombs of my unquiet ancestors, right? I call

that rather rude, and you can't really complain if the corpses grab your feet and yell "DOOM!" in a grum

voice now and then. [I didn't make up "grum"; I'm not sure what it means/meant; but it's something scary. A

reportedly possessed girl in the 17th century spoke in a "grum voice".]

 And I have to say, ULB is being awfully selfish. Consider other people! (Mainly ME!)

Oh, the torments of the maggot-infested wormhole that is laughingly called my heart! Over and over

again, the bad dialogue resounds in my soul. And I have no one in whom to confide my hopes and dreams,

as even Cthulhu fled my acquaintance long ago.

So anyway, on with the narrative:

Suddenly Batfinger jumps out of a coffin with his sidekick Olly and accosts ULB. "I have a marriage

proposal for you, my lady", he says in a quasi-brogue. "He's a perfect match", he adds, pointing at Olly, "as

he prefers dead people to the living." Olly just scowls, as Batfinger smirks and says, "Chaos is a ladder"

3,021 times

Then an eldritch voice pervades the souterrain, causing the skeletons to rattle their bones: "THE COUNT


cut to a commercial.
Telegenic children frolic in a verdant meadow with their equally telegenic pets, while a treacly piano

plays in the background. A crystalline female voice half-sings, "Baleribank. For your student loan and

indentured servant needs. Baleribank. Because we care."

TJ: Oh boo hoo, poor Count Balerion has to sleep with seven attractive women {sarcasm}!

 All I have to keep me warm at night is Mya Stone, and while she is attractive I can not even mooch off her

rich father! Do you see me eating hearts? NO! I reanimate the dead and study the occult like a normal

human being. But if you insist on being like this, then I have no other choice:

 Me: "Order of Disorder: assemble!!!"

 In bursts a green puff of smoke in the shape of a lion, which clears to reveal THE GREY AND


 Lord Osgrey: "Batfinger!?! I should have known you would be up to your old tricks!"

 A massive hole is shot through one wall of the tunnel, destroying an ancient and priceless Old Valyrian

Mural. Through the hole walks BITTERSTEEL ON A MECH!!!

 Bittersteel: "Can I please have a cool nickname?"

 No. If you wanted a cool nickname, you should have chosen a boring alter-ego.

 Now in came Hodor The Horrible, Arne with ony his fists.

 Hodor: "Hodor Hosor HODOR!!!"

 Now finally, riding down the tunnel is THE MOUNTIAN THAT FLIES!

 ... Aaaaaaaâäaannneeeæeee minute now ...

 ... just one minute .......


 cut to a scene of Bran, in Gregor's body, having a three way with Margaery Tyrell and Asha Greyjoy.

 Bran (in Gregor's body): "Being a knight is awesome!"
 DAMMET, we'll have to start without him!

 Dirk: "My deserters and I are ready!"

 Me: "Good. How about you Grey And Powerful OS, are you ready?"

 Osgrey: "My magic is real and ready!"

 Me: "Bittersteel, ready?"

 Bittersteel: "My mech is made of Bittersteel, but it's guns are full of sweet lead!"

 Me: "Undead Lady Balerion, here is Tyrion's crossbow if you want to fight. There's a boulder over there

if you want to hide."

 Now Let's Do This!!

CB: A bit more sympathy would be nice. Angst quite literally consumes me, and roaches are gobbling up

my being.

Batfinger smirks again, and conjures up a brothel! Why a brothel in an underground mausoleum/shortcut

to Highgaren? Well, the better to distract the goodguys and provide gratuitous nudity only tangentially

related to the plot, my dear! As the prostitutes strut their stuff, , Batfinger expounds his philosophy of

life. Then he suggests to ULB that marrying Olly would be a capital way to get revenge!

Don't ask why. Chaos is etc.

Okay thanks for removing the knitting needles, but...it's not enough!  My head and eyes still ache.  I

cannot take the torment.  It's almost worse at this reduced level that's not enough for maesters' potions,

but enough to drive me to distraction...distraction I tell y--ooh, look, a bunny!

#78 [The melodramatic thread: Unleash the Drama Queen within: post #78] Timjames98
Springing into action, Dirk and the other Nights Watch Deserters ran towards the brothel Batfinger

recently opened.

Dirk: "We'll distract the whores while you deal with the Count Badguy!"

He then held out his hand a coughed, at which point I gave him some of my coins. While Dirk and the

mutineers rush to deal with the ... ladies of the night ... Bittersteel turned his Mech on the unquiet


Bittersteel: I'll send you back to The Seven Hells in Seven Pieces!"

He opened fire, ripping the zombies apart with his bullets and greatly desecrating The Balerion Family's

Hallowed Grounds. Pretending that each zombie was Bloodraven, Bittersteel let out a crazed laugh as he

gunned them down.

Meanwhile THE GREY AND POWERFUL OS cast a spell that flung a small amount of sand in Olly's

eyes. And yes, it was a spell. He did not simply toss it with his hands, and to think otherwise is offensive.

For my part, I rolled up my sleeves and decided to fight Count Balerion myself.

Me: "The Southroysi Brindlemen have odd architecture. Instead of using corners, they prefer a


As I swing my foot around in a roundhouse kick, the large letters spelling out BAM pop out of nowhere.

Persicaria: I seem to have been enrolled in the forces of evil, this is what happens when you let the dark

dredges of paperwork consume the brittle substance of my soul. At least, I got a nice hatchet out of this

new job, but minion boot camp is slightly bizarre. I do not know why I must yell "it's alive," or why I must

take classes in Americanized Slavic and Germanic accents. Still, Lady Blizzardborn must return to the

world of the unliving, lest she be our eternal downfalll. That and I want those shoes; I wonder if they

come in a wide?

Lady Blizzardborn, on 10 Oct 2015 - 1:58 PM, said:

    Oh the ache of my back!  'Tis the pain of a thousand elephants after their first experience with yoga!

You wouldn't feel ill if you were still dead, you know!

Alas!  Something mildly inconvenient happened twice yesterday! Will no one free me from this Slough of

Despond?  My sorrows would melt a heart of stone for pity and ruth; for my soul is like a political thread

in which all the posts begin with "Um" or "Stop lying".

Now, to business.  The morning torture session is over, so…      I'll call my henchman Lord Dudley



"Yes, Omnipotence."

Bring me my crystal ball!

"Yes, Omnipotence."

Let's see…  Lots of mayhem and gratuitous gore…  Red-shirted extras dying (although most of mine

were already dead)…  Pounding staccato music…  Batfinger enjoying the CHAOS…Olly wielding the

Scowl of Doom…  Excellent!  Send some killer Jack O'Lanterns with rays that turn people into

vegetables that shed blood, and add some zombie robots with lasers.

"Yes, Omnipotence. Do you think that will defeat them?"

Perhaps not; but it'll be really cool!  As for defeating them, I'm saving the coup de grace for later, because

I like watching mass death and violence.  One more thing: see if you can get Persicaria to disguise herself

as Lady B and sow confusion.

"Yes, Omnipotence."

Some day when I have leisure, I must find a better style than Omnipotence; it's too modest.  

Persicaria: I have been commanded to pretend to be the lady Blizzardborne. Yay, I got the shoes, but

damnnit their pinching my feet. I shall drink a potion made of trolls blood and unicorn to change my

shape into that of the undead fiend. Gah, unicorn hair is really slimey. I think it's working my skin is

turning a nice blue complexion. Oh wait I have scales. God damnit, was their salamander scales in that

trolls blood. Eh, their men they never notice when you're wearing a new outfit. I should be safe, if not I'll

say it's a beauty trend.

CB: Everything is venom for me!  The breeze blows a burning flame, the stream's waves are liquid fire,

and fangirls are writing fanfic wherein I'm not really evil, just "misunderstood", and Mary Sue converts

me to good; worse, MS always turns out to be a Sand Snake.

I think Persicaria is ready to be promoted to femme fatale, first class, and sent out on her secret mission.

I'll send out Carol Lannister as well as Persicaria; she can use her dreaded power of Relateability to

confuse them--until my most deadly agent can hunt them down!  But for this to work, I'll have to call off

the attack, which is a pity as I was having so much fun.
Okay the scales are a little worse than I thought they would be apparently. I have dressed as the lady,

though the damned shoes are giving me Blisters. I've also taken to wearing a fashionable half veil. I arm

myself in the healing magics, yoga music and my trusty hatchet  to defeat the riotous evil of the Foul

Necromancer TimJame, or is JamesTim. Goddamnit, what foul creature has two first names for a full


Still, I worry that the goals of Count Balerion are not so kosher themselves. I've seen the kitchens, they

leave much to be desired.

I have my commands though, and for now they coincide with my Goal to end Mr. Whatsits deals with the

undead, and destroy the Lady Blizzardborn.

I am slightly confused by the fighting action, and the actual layout of this place, but I end up in a tower

overlooking a fearsome crew, whom I'm quiet certain shouldn't still be alive.

"GODDAMNIT, YOU DIDN'T STOP AT ONE!" Well f8ck, I screamed that pretty loud. I turn on the serene

music of mating humpback whales and begin again.



Count Balerion, on 11 Oct 2015 - 7:45 PM, said:

    Double post.
Really?..... You really did this?

How?.... No, why.... Why would you do this? Of all the things that you could have done or the plethora of

mistakes that you inevitably make, why would you go for a double post?

Like are you killing me right now? This is unbelievable. Like I cannot fathom that this is the result that we

get from you. A bloody double post! SERIOUSLY?!? What the hell is wrong with you CB? Don't you get

it? What you are destroying here? Yoou might as well have gone to the postal office with a piece of paper

giving whomever you ran into paper cuts. Such a minor thing, but you threaten to ruin the sanctity of the

society we are trying to uphold.

 I... I... I can't even look at you right. I-I-I just can't.

TJ: As the Jack-o-lanterns closed in with their undead cohorts, all hope seemed fading. But at that

moment, Lord Eustace Osgrey stood at the fourfront and slammed his staff so loud that it gave us all a

start! A burst of magic light shot forth, temporarily filling the now-irrepairably damaged subway of untold

archological value.


Quickly, we have little time. Osgrey is buying us time to escape. We all need to board the 5AM to

Highgarden! The Tyrells shall surely shelter us. Come on, everybody get inside!

Hodor the horrible: *holding Olly in a headlock* "Hodor?"

We can not wait for Lord Osgrey, he is buying time for us to escape.

THE GREY AND POWERFUL OS: "RUN YOU FOOLS!!!" He shouted, using his staff to shoot a field of

fire through the thatched roof of Batfinger's brothel.

 The Order of Disorder clambered onto the subway and rode it away. But as they sat, their escape was

bittersweet for Osgrey was left behind. Such pity that sacrificed himself heroically and dramatically to

save his fellowship. Surely this sacrifice is permanent and will not result in him resurrecting later on with

swanky new gear.

 OK! Time for a headcount!

Dirk, check. Other Night's Watch Deserters, check. Bittersteel, check. Hodor, check. Bran,
* * * * * * *
Cut to a scene of Bran, in Gregor's Body, asleep in bed while Asha and Margaery lie naked next to him.

They are both smoking and look satisfied.
* * * * * * *
Lady Blizzardborn, double check. By the way, nice axe but I'd lose the scales if I were you. Hodor, hodor.

OK, let's see to it that The Realm is ready to combat Count Balerion's travesties! May The Cold Gods of

Icetown keep us refreshing and may The Black Goat of Qohor nourish us with her sour milk.

P : "I didn't know Count Balerion enjoyed cross dressing? Oh wait, you mean Travesties.Oh and the scales,

well it sort of happens sometimes when you come back from the dead, or get chicken pox. You shall have

to be careful not to get too close to me."

I hope this ruse will last, until I figure out how to kill this unholy army, again. I wonder if I chop off their

heads while they're sleeping if that will work, or would they just keep talking. Maybe they could use their

heads as projectiles. "Curse you undead fiends and your potentially projectile heads, oh crap that was

outloud. Uhm, that's what she said!"


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[sorry the formatting is rubbish]

Chapter 4. Porne

TJ : It is odd that I am seeing double when I look at Lady Blizzardborn, and that one of those double is

covered in more scales than a Crannogman's lover (is it racist to perpetuate the myth that all Crannogmen

fuck alligators? Probably, but I refuse to take down the "racially insensitive" signs in my workplace).

But then again, the world is going down the rabbit hole; the Price of Ironwood Resin is skyrocketing,

meaning I might have to find an alternative fuel source. Jon Snow got his girlfriend Ygritte pregnant after

Dirk poked holes in his condoms (Dirk thought it would be funny, and it kinda was), and now Jon Snow is

King Of The Free Folk. The once fertile and green lands around Slaver's Bay have turned into Deserts, and

I still need to write an acceptance speech for when The Citadel grants me a Nobel Prize for pissing in the

agape mouth of The God Of Many Faces.

 "Once we are in Highgarden, we can mooch off Lord Tyrell until we recover. Assuming Bran-In-

Gregor's-Body sleeping with his daughter has not pissed Mace off."

LB: For shame, for shame!  Such lies and mistruths! (I think I just invented a word).

Just so we can put this all behind us...I am not now, nor have I ever been dead.  That is a vicious lie spun by

the opposition.  Who are the opposition, you ask?


How can you even ask that?

WB: Wait, if Lady Blizzardborn was never dead then the person that Timjames98 resurrected must be

someone else, but who could pull off such a decep... No that's impossible, he's locked up in Arkham but

who else other than Clayface could do this?

Me: Alfred where is TJ98?

Alfred: On a train approaching High Garden.

Me: Send TJ a messenger bat and warn him?

Alfred: Yes Master Batgirl.  

Using the batcycle my network of underground tunnels I make my way to the High Garden subway station.


Bother. Minstral has so utterly destroyed my self-esteem that he must die; but I fear he is a powerful

being armed with plot armour.

And what's this about Lady B not being dead?  Deadly, ascertain the location of the new Lady B and have

her apprehended at once! All  claimants must be delivered to the Great Kitchen.  And
send an undead

demon vulture to Highgarden with a message telling Lord Tyrell that his daughter has been dishonoured

by TJ's friends, and offering the aid of Castle Cruel in avenging this affront.

I think Hodor is killing Olly; oh well, he was a whiny little brat anyway.

On with the narrative:
Our heroes travel until they arrive at the King's Landing station, where a not unattractive woman of a

certain age gets on and sits on a sarcophagus.  "Hi, I'm Carol.  I'm a soccer mom.  I like cooking [speech

recognition thought that last word was "warging"], especially heart cakes for Valentyn's Day.  But I'm

worried about my son Tommen's grades.  They haven't been the same since that evil Count Balerion threw

his kittens in the dungeon." Then she looks at Lady B, the undead one without blue scales, the one who

hasn't claimed not to be dead.  "Oh joy!  My long lost daughter!"

THAT'S NOT MELODRAMATIC AT ALL!  complained the audience.

What?  Can't you hear that ominous music?  

PS.  When I was a young boy, I really did run around giving people paper cuts.  Then my mother told me I

should walk a mile in another man's shoes; so I took to killing people and stealing their shoes.  I've never

looked back.

A grim day.

Ever since I warged helped Bran transfer his consiousness into Gregor's body, all he does is fuck and

fight. Now I found out we are no longer welcome in Highgarden as a result of Bran taking Margaery's

virginity. To say this has pissed me off would be an understatement; I am considering not making

Mountain!Bran the Best Man at my wedding with Mya Stone (still not scheduled, as I still need to search

the ruins of Sarnath for The High King's Crown Jewels so as to give her the ring she deserves (but that's

an adventure for another time). But then Dirk got drunk and impregnated Olenna, so the upcoming baby

shower gave me the perfect excuse to browse through Highgarden's Gift-shops (Guns and Roses are very

popular here, as their albums are sold in bulk). While there, WesterosiBatgirl told me something

important. I'm not sure what, but it must have been important (after all, she is the hero Oldtown deserves,

but not the one it needs).

We had to go to Kings Landing instead, taking a flight from the Highgarden airport to Kings Landing. We

flew with Glenmore Airlines, which somehow remained unaffected by the shortage of Ironwood Resin. I

was seated between two fat Yunki Wise Masters, and they both hogged the armrest and prattled on about

how much Westeros would be improved by slavery (Ugh! I DON'T want to talk about politics on an airline

flight!). Worse yet, Asha decided she liked sleeping with Mountain!Bran and so decided to join us; the

extra seat meant we had to store one of the Lady Blizzardborns in a travel-cage with the pets (I think it

was the one with the scales). There was a messy orgy in First class involving Mountian!Bran, Asha, and

the stewardesses, but the rest of The Order of Disorder was sitting in coach. We watched The Bear And

The Maiden Fair, a sweet coming-of-age story about a teenage girl on bear island trying to find herself:

half of the Night's Watch Mutineers were in tears by the time the movie was done.
When we arrived in Kings Landing. Margaery also arrived here (being married to Joffery and all that), but

Mace made her fly on a different plane and instructed Randyll Tarley to be her official buzzkiller. A

woman who's name starts with a C (Carol, Cassidy, Cersei, Idon'tknow ...) claims her son Tommen is

doing poorly in school as a result of Count Balerion eating his cat. I suggested she encourage Tommen to

pursue athletic pursuits, as Hodor won 3000 dragons at The Special Tourney (It's held every year in

Rosby Estate. Hodor won the Meele, Sweetrobin won the 100 league joust, and Lolly won the discus


I signed onto Kayak and found great rooms for all of us at The Summerhall Resort, and just in time too as

my allies are becoming restless. Mountian!Bran just gave Chataya such a great riding that she declared

that every other man would be a let down and has moved to Quiet Isle to be a Celibate Septa. Hodor killed

Olly with his fists but still carries the dead boy around as he does not know what death it (I had to toss

Olly's corpse away when Hodor was distracted by a baloon animal  [I'm not going to The Old Ones for

Olly]). Lady Balerion with scales is developing more scales and seems to be eating more flies than the

Maesters recommend, and Undead-but -never-dead-to-begin-with Lady Balerion seems to have caught

Bronn's eye as recently he asked me if she was seeing anyone (I said he should ask her himself).

Forget King-Of-The-Free-Folk Jon Snow and his wife Queen Ygritte, forget Eurion and The Lannisport

Genocide he orchestrated, forget The High Septon making a racist comment about the Dornish; Count

Balerion is the real threat to humanity and existence.

I thought meddling with The Old Ones and The Cold Gods made me bad, but nobody could be as bad as

Count Balerion!!!

CB: And Carsei (now everyone's confused; is she Lannister, Wilding, or Americkish?) keeps gushing over

her long-lost daughter (undead-non-blue-Lady-B) and suggesting she come "home" with her.
Meanwhile, Count Badguy (as he's popularly known) sends out a message via express vulture to all the

great lords of Westeros. It's on very impressive human-skin letterhead, and reads:

WHEREAS, Timjames (hereinafter TJ) is charged with the following high crimes and misdemeanours:

Consorting with known Blackfyre terrorists and Night's Watch deserter;

Encouraging minors to perform unspeakable acts while warging;

Sullying the reputation of ancient and honourable houses;

Making anti-Crannog racist comments;

Raising the dead in abhomynable rituals (aside: they don't need to know I did the  same thing; and anyway,

I had a just cause, to wit, world domination);

Eating Our demon-vulture messenger;

Sending goons to break Our lower extremities;

Hurting Our Feelings;

Eating children, singing off-key, destroying the foundations of civilization by using cusswords, etc., etc.,

THEREFORE, We, His Omnipotence the Lord Count Balerion, do enjoin, charge, and request any who

may come into contact with the aforesaid TJ to apprehend him and deliver him to Castle Cruel for



Also meanwhile, Super-Ramsay with 20GM and an unclad Myranda board a private jet at the Dreadfort.


Can you try to dig up dirt on TJ? Even something apparently good like giving to the poor counts

(encourages idleness!). Also, I'm terribly sorry about the shoes and have had the person who fitted you

out executed; conveniently, I think she was your size, so am sending you her shoes by special-delivery


(If you succeed in this mission, I may have you murder the Sand Snakes; but NOT A WORD on that to

anyone, not even Deadly.)

Oh woeful day!!! Woeful day indeed!!!

 Count Balerion has sent perfidious lies to the far reaches of the kingdom, accusing me of false

allegations beyond count (I DO NOT, nor have I ever, eaten children)!!!

 Not even a joke about how Alligator-fucking Crannogmen can cheer me up (some stereotypes are rooted

in fact). I had to cancel my vacation in Summerhall Resort!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 After they opened a new pool!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Fortunately, there is some relief. Quickly hijacking an inter-kingdom bus, The Order of Disorder

managed to arrive at Dorne.
 There we will not be judged for being deserters, sex-fiends, dark magic practitioners, or former

Blackfyrw supporters. The Martells do not give a fuck!

 In fact, after I explained how we trapped Gregor in a cave up north, in the body of a weak impotent

crippled boy, we were the guests of honor at Sunspear and Plankeytown.

 Mountian!Bran took advantage of this and impregnated all seven of The Sand Snakes.

 I was a bit worried when Dirk slept with Ellaria Sand, but Oberyn did not mind (he does not hold his

paramour to different standards than he hold himself).

 As for myself, I have found comfort gorging myself on Lemon Shrimp at the Nymeria Express (it seems

The Rhoyner brought their chain restaurants here in addition to their gender ideas).

 Now that Dorne is on my side, I must plan how to defeat Count Balerion.

Count B sends a secret telegraph to Carsol Lannister: HOW IS YOUR ASSIGNMENT GOING STOP.




He also sends out a vulture to the Martells, reminding them the Blackfyres are anti-Dornish and

wondering why they're harbouring the Mountain and pals. Do they really believe that stuff about warging?

Are they blind, or only stupid?
A mysterious woman appears in a cloud of smoke to TJ and says, "I am Weyrde of Asshai. Mistrust the

mummer's yeti, googly-googly-goo, Wichita, Kansas. When all is lost, trust the Plot!" Then she vanishes

and there's a commercial break.
Later, a private jet lands in Sunspear.

TJ: Day of Our Weeping Lady of Lys, 888788868? I lost count ...

 For some reason The Martells are doubting that Monitan!Bran is really Bran and not just Gregor in

disguise. I had to arrange a Skype between The Martells and Bran's mentor Valmar Six-skins: he gave a

good explanation of how warging works and now they are convinced (though they are a bit unimpressed,

as the magic abilities of The Rhoynar grants all Martells awesome credit scores [Doran walks into a bank

and the teller cries tears of pure joy upon seeing his credit score]).

 Recently I got visited by an Assahi shadow binder: I studied the language of Assahi and was able to grasp

the full meaning of her riddle (unlike a certain girl who knows little in the ways of necromancy).

 The Martells are a bit uncomfortable around Bittersteel, but when they tried to broach the subject he

suggested it is because his mother was a Bracken. The Martells then went out of their way to make to

clear how NON-racist they are, and never brought up the subject again.

 Being suspicious of Brackens is racism, but being suspicious of alligator-fuckin mudmen is common

sense. If Mya Stone and I ever have a daughter, she'd better not bring home a Crannogman!

 But in any case, I thought it as good a time as any to sling mud back. I sent the following letter via

Basilisk-with-hawk-wings-attached to every rich guy in Westeros and Essos.
 Dear lords of The Seven Kingdoms and The Nine-to-Twelve Free Cities,

 Count Balerion is a dirty commie. Blacklist him from all your events and exclude him from all your


 He is also accused of the following:

 Keeping endangered demon vultures as illegal pets;

 Endangering demon vultures by sending them to people who eat them; I

 Drowning cats;

 Failing to satisfy The Sandsnakes;


 Using a World Heritage Site as an illegal dumping ground for his dead relatives;

 Underpaying his staff;

 In conclusion, he deserves to be pulled apart by elephants.
The Westerosi lords are left scratching their heads over this latest barrage of he said-he said propaganda


"I've heard of Count Balerion, he's lord of Countlands. But who's Tym Jaime?"

"I've heard bizarre rumours about that Count."

"My cousin went to Castle Cruel as a page, and never returned!"

"Tym Jaime dishonoured my daughter!"

"What's bad about cannibalism? Every fiefdom has its own customs."

"What's bad about singing off-key?"

"Why don't they just have a trial by combat?"

"I've heard weyrd things about Tym Jaime, too."

"Let them fight it out and say we were on the side of whoever wins."

"Good idea."
Meanwhile, melodrama in Dorne! Cerol starts screaming, "NO! I AM LOYAL, I DID MY BEST! I TRIED,

BUT THE PLOT WAS TOO MUCH FOR ME! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"



Later, Super-Ramsay turns up with 20 Good Men and Myranda, who isn't wearing anything, of course, and

a pack of hounds. "If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention," he snickers. "A

chain is no stronger than its weakest link," he adds, and sics his hounds on Warged-Pervy-Mountain. Does

WPM do something disgusting to the dogs? Become Reek III? Die horribly? If the latter, would it really

be a bad thing for Team TJ, and not on the whole good? Stay tuned!
[Castle Cruel is located in Countlands, a fiefdom to the northwest. It's the 7th Kingdom, b/c Riverlands

was eliminated by the showrunners cuz it's boring. Only, the names of the Kingdoms keep changing cuz

we didn't read tha boox theyre lame. Castle Cruel is enveloped in everlasting night, broken by lightning

bolts, and is on a steep precipice overlooking the ocean, which is constantly thundering in the background

and partially drowning out the screams of victims. It's surrounded by bats and other, worse creatures, and

has the aspect of a Halloween display. When he chooses to, though, CB can glamour it so that it looks

like a standard noble castle.]


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Chapter 5. The battle of Porne
As the pack of dogs closes in on Mountian!Bran, he draws Gregor's duel broadswords and begins

swinging back and forth. One by one, the dogs get chopped in half or separated from their heads. This

thing he is doing to the dogs is quite disgusting, but just because these dogs were trained to fight unarmed

women does not mean they can do just as well against fully armored behemoths-sized Knights. But even

still, Mountian!Bran knows he can not fight them all AND SuperRamsay AND the twenty good men AND

bend Myranda over that barrel over there all on his own.

 But as all hope seems lost, a large puff of white smoke and a blast of green light appears in the middle of

the pet-euthanasia spree.

 Osgrey: "Behold! It is I, The White and Powerful OS!!!"

 Mountian!Bran was amazed. "Osgrey!," he shouted, "We thought thy killed you. You were reported but not

seen dead and we diet retrieve your body, so we assumed you were gone for good!"

 Oswhite explained: "A wizard never dies too early or too late; he faces his end exactly when he intends

to! Behold, I have married Rohanne Webber and gained my ancestral home back. See my sigil! See my

swanky new gear!"

 His sigil was not the Green Lion in the white background. It was a WHITE lion in a GREEN


 "Not only have I come to your aid, but have brought help. Presto!"

 With a wave of his staff, Oswhite teleported Westerosi Batgirl from her location all the way here.

 "I hope you're prepared for his fight you didn't expect. Also, Surprize!"

 With another wave of his staff, he teleported Summer the Direwolf all the way from the kennel.

The fight rages on. Super-RAMSEY, 20GM, and Myranda are all clad in plot armour, making them

invincible! (Although Myranda doesn't have as much cuz she's only a girl, and she's apparently nude, while

Ramsay doesn't seem to wear much, either.) The plot armour to some extent applies even to the dogs,

who admittedly are dying in hordes in extremely gory and graphic ways that cause the audience to retch,

but who seem to get replenished! (Of course, WPM and OS also have a decent sprinkling of plot armour;

so hey. Too bad about Joe, though. That was tragic and occasioned quite a moving scene.) Super-Ramsay

keeps yelling his war cry, "SHOCK VALUE!", while Myranda sneers, "The showrunners are on our side!"

(Don't be so sure.)
A new cult has arisen in Westeros, the black priests, worshippers of Black B'llor who hope for salvation

from Canor Balai, who coincidentally looks like Count Balerion. Their rituals includes turning people

into zombie slaves and marrying alligators (I think they're just trolling with that last). There's also a

terrorist group called ALA, which stands not for American Library Ass'n but for Alligator Liberation rmy.

They wander around being nasty to Tym_Jaimeists. CouldCB have anything to do with this? Surely not!

He looks so good in classic black that he must be innocent!

CB is wildly popular in the Crannog, where he's viewed as the saviour who will put paid to TJ's anti-


LB: I can't stand it anymore!  I'm going to end it--no more standing, I shall sit!

TJ: While Lady Blizzardborn sits down on the sofa with the rest of the Order Of Disorder and watches a

game of Elephant Soccer (which is a VERY popular sport in Dorne and Essos [unlike in Westeros, where

Greased-Goose Grabbing remains the most popular sport]), Oswhite the Wizard and Mountain!Bran the

pervert fight for their very lives against SuperRamsay, Twenty Good Men, Myranda, and an innumerable

number of fighting dogs.

With a swirl of his staff, Oswhite shoots a beam of boiling hot light at the dog pack, killing 96 of them

but putting not even a dent in the innumerable horde. Mountain!Bran continues to fight these dogs off,

now stomping on their skulls and punting them like footballs in addition to hacking and slashing them

with his two broadswords.

Oswhite exclaimed as he hammered down his staff and caused a bolt of lightning to strike into the middle

of the innumerable dog pack, "We're outnumbered. Curse SuperRamsay; what can defeat a monster like


Mountain!Bran sighed, knowing what must be done: "A worse monster."

With that, Mountain!Bran's consiousness retreated (for the time being) into the subconsious. The Eyes of

Gregor Clegane's body filled with blackened rage as his consciousness once again took hold.



This roar knocked the Twenty Good Men flat on their asses and sent the dogs bolting away in a whimper.

Dark Storm Clouds filled up the previously sunny and cloudless sky, lightning struck to signal this shift in

mood (as well as the deactivation of the plot armor the badguys wore (what GRRM givith, D&D takith

away), and large spikes shot out of his duel broadswords, turning them into broadsword-chainsaw hybrids!

Dramatic music played to this transition.

As Summer!Bran was still using his warging abilities to prevent Mountain!Mountain from harming his

allies, Gregor Clegane could only turn his rage (spawned from spending a year trapped in the body of an

impotent cripple in a children's hospital) upon SuperRamsay and his Twenty Good Men. Letting out

another deafening roar, he swung his chainsaws down and cut one of The Twenty Good Men strait down

the middle. As he fell in a pool of agony, Mountain!Mountain turned his attention to the remaining

Nineteen Good Men.

One would assume this sudden shift would cause even SuperRamsay to shit his pants and/or regret not

taking a career as a cook who screams at restaurant owners until their food stops tasting like cardboard.

CB: Super-Ramsay does indeed take a breather with 20GM and Myranda; and 4 of the 20 drop dead ("I

thought we were only going to do nasty things to women!" were the last words of one of them). But

during the breather he wallows in gore and seems to be drawing strength from it! That means when he

comes back, he might be even more powerful! Oh noes!

Then the ghost of Joe appears and says "RRaamsaaay pooower from gooooory stuuuuuf shoooock

vaaaaaaalueee woooooooooo!"

TJ: When Gregor Clegane saw what SuperRamsay was doing, he smiled.

 "I'll show the amateur how it's done!!!"

 With a swift stab, he drove his sword through the chest of one of the remaining Fifteen Good Men.

Before the guy could die easily, Gregor activated the chainsaw ability and caused the poor bastard to

explode into a bunch of red chunks!

 "You want shock value?!? I'll SHOW you what real shock value is!"

 Seathing his chainsaw swords, he grabbed one of the Forteen Good Men by the throat had squeezed it so

hard that the mans head exploded in an audience horrifying blast.

 Next he pressed one of the Thirteen Good Men against a tree. The man tried begging for mercy, but

Gregor Clegane brained him with his own fists.

 "Gods I missed doing that!!!"

 Back at home, Moral Guardians jumped in front of a train out of pure revulsion. It seems that the shock

value was swinging in Gregor's favor.
CB: Several of the dogs gagged and died. "We didn't sign up for this!" they barked. (Some red-shirted

goodguys are also dead.)

But Ramsay seems to be getting more and more more powerful! the more gore, the more power! The

gorier Mountain gets, the gorier Super-R gets, and vice versa. Oh what is to be done? Can either win,

when each draws power from the other's excesses? Soon, Super-R is turning dead 7 Good Men into

gore-zombies. Gore is physically coming out of the TV set or computer screen! Ouch, the set just blew

up, splattering blugh all over (so did the Rant thread)! 17 audience members died horribly! "BLEKH!" said

the dead moral guardians. "Maybe we should join forces," chuckles SR to Gregor. "We could have a riot

doing gory things to people."

Count's diary: 1 ABC (Anno Balerionis Comitis), day -124 (may as well get an early start)

O torment! The Sandsnakes just said "Bad *******" to me 39,001 times! Is any sorrow like my sorrow?

Why and oh why is TJ being such a dog in the manger about Lady B's heart? *He* isn't using it!

Speaking of which, I wonder how that's going. All I see right now in the crystal ball is lots of gore. It's

beautiful, yes; but I'm hungry. These brain nachos may provide a disgusting image for the audience, but

they're not very satisfying from a gustatory point of view. If Persicaria succeeds in her mission, I'll

personally crown her Queen of the Night after my TOP SECRET WORLD CONQUEST plan succeeds.

I've launched a charm offensive against the Westerosi lords and especially ladies. It means attending lots

of soirees, and I had to have another prisoner killed to make a brand new gilet. Lady Gullybel seems quite

taken with me--although Darth Sansa is more to my taste. I'm having to deal with the fall-out from TJ's

propaganda, but adopting a frank and open countenance and telling them my life is an open book and that

I'm more than willing to go through the standard court procedures and TJ will get a fair trial, but is

unfortunately in hiding, and I regret whatever excesses the alligators may have committed, but really, do I

look like an alligator.

All the charm is giving me a sugar overdose. It takes a long torture session watching my experts in the

Way of Seven Screams to get my sugar down.

There are some, of course, who will not be persuaded. It's a pity about that adorable Wylla Manderly, for

example, who says I'm a "creep".

I'm working to counteract TJ's propaganda blitz (hopefully SR will keep him busy).

TJ: After un-clenching his jaws and EATING one of the Thirteen Living Good Men (and not in one clean

bite, but rather in three messy bites), Gregor swung his swords around in a helicopter fashon which

decapitated three of the Twelve Living Good Men and one of the Seven Gore Men.

Pushing his way past the Nine Living Good Men and the Six Gore Men, Gregor Clegane reached Ramsay

and his paramour. Gregor looked at Myranda menacingly, but from the Subconscious Bran reigned

Gregor in before he could do anything rape-y.

Subconscious!Bran: Nope! Not letting you do that! See this headache I'm giving you?!? I can make it

1,000,000,000,000,000 times worse if you don't obey me!!!

Grunting, Gregor turned around to face Ramsay.
"Vargo Goat gave me the same offer: I made him eat himself!"

Taking a cue, all the other participants in The Battle Of Deaddog Field formed a circle around Ramsay and

Gregor and started chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like school children. Who will win? Will it matter

(death is easily reversible anyway)?
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^**^*^*^*^**^*^*^**^*^**^*^**^*^***^* ^* * ** *^**

Meanwhile, in Sunspear ...
Day of Our Dragonlords, ????? something that ends with a "6"

Mountain!Bran is not back yet, but I assume it is nothing. After all, we are in Dorne where you can not

throw a stone without hitting a whore.

 But more alarming is Count Balerion's PR campaign. It is as though people have forgotten all the nasty

things he is doing. The only way to counter is to spread a truly vicious rumor: despite knowing nothing of

his lineage or bloodlines, I sent surgically-winged-Basilisks to every castle in the kingdom with the

following message:

To all,
Count Balerion is not of The Balerion Bloodline at all, but rather is the bastard of adultery between his

mother and a gong farmer. Also, all of his neighbors and other rivals ALL have a rightful claim to his lands

and titles. I urge everyone to try and press these claims.

Sincerly, TimJames98, Pyromancer Wisdom of The Gulltown Chapter.

LB: My poor eyes!  My poor head!  My poor back!  I haven't the energy to read these long, melodramatic

posts.  Must...get...more...caffeine... *faints*

M: The whole lot of you should be ashamed! Why haven't you all pooled your vast resources to secure

the survival and well being of Lady B!! Leaving her to disintegrate like a lit cigarette in the wind.... or

more fittingly snowmelt in spring. I beseech you, nay, command you to do something about this.

CB: That's why I'm trying to kill her!  It's because I'm merciful.  But if this is the sort of gratitude I get,

I'm leaving.  

Dear diary: Deadly informs me that TJ has revealed the truth about my parentage and urged my

neighbours and enemies to invade.  I hope they do!  Come to papa, suckers!

What villains don't always understand is that sometimes it pays to be a hero.  That's why my next order of

business is to defeat Jon and the wildling girl, and then make peace with the Others.  When the latter

know my terms, they're bound to bite--quite possibly literally.


Sunspear: Joe's ghost appears and says "I DIED FOR YOU, AND SO WILL OTHERS IF YOU DON'T



[It's true.  Death is no big deal, really.  Incidentally, I may seem to be godmoding for the next several days.

 Don't be fooled!]

Hey! I'm the one trying to save Lady Blizzardborn's life!!! I had to appeal to The Old Ones AND The Cold

Ones to get her soul back into her body. Do you have any idea what delving into the occult does to the

human soul?!?!??? I looked in the mirror the other day, and realized I no longer recognize the man I saw in

it. But in any case, The Narrative must continue!
The fight between Gregor Clegane and SuperRamsay dragged on; Gregor swinging wildly with his

chainsaw-broadswords, Ramsay Snow dodging and making jabs with his flaying knife. The final duel in

Deaddog Field was truly a sight to behold, as steel clashed with steel and those gathered around cheered

on one or the other.
"Flay him alive!" encouraged Myranda.
"Crush his skull!" shouted Oswhite.
"Let him have it Ramsay!" squealed Damon-dance-for-me
"Go Gregor! Kill that birthday-forgetting son of a whore!" demanded one of the more vindictive Nine

Good Men.
Skillfully, Ramsay drove a flaying-knife through Gregor's side.  
"You're a brave little boy. But I don't like brave little boys-"
At that moment, Gregor mustered all of his strengh and stuck his freakishly huge hands in the dirt. Prying

apart, he ripped open a hole directly to The Seventh Hell.
"You make my head hurt!!!!" With that, Gregor pushed Ramsay in. SuperRamsay screamed as he fell into

the fiery pit, his courage failing him.
Subconsious!Bran: "Well, looks like Gregor's work here is done."
Gregor: "What! No, I don't wanna go back in the crippled boy's body. No NO


ooOooooooooOOOOooooo . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . .. . . .. "
With that, Bran once again re-assumed control of Gregor Clegane's body and Gregor's consciousness was

forced into the body of a impotent cripple in Children's Hospital/Mental Asylum.
Seeing their boss defeated, the Nine Good Men dropped their weapons and ran away in a panic.

Oswhite: "It looks like this is the end of SuperRamsay. Unless Count Balerion has his own portal to The

Seven Hells, that is [SPOILER ALERT: HE DOES]. Now Bran, we should be heading back to Sunspear

right about- BRAN!!! Why are you having sex with Myranda?!?
Mountian!Bran: "Well, with Ramsay in hell and The Nine Good Men turned craven, she has nowhere else

to go. I felt bad, so I offered Myranda a spot in my harem."
Oswhite: "But she's evil!!!"
Mountian!Bran: "Your point is? Dirk is a Night's Watch Deserter! Qyburn studies anatomy! TimJames98

practices necromancy!"
Oswhite: "Good point, but could you at least use protection?"
Mountian!Bran: "Why? You can just use your magic to cure STDs."
Oswhite: "But it's demeaning!!! I didn't spend sixty years studying the occult just to make syphilis go

Mountian!Bran: "Buy Ozzy!!!!!!"
Oswhite: "Ugh! Fine, I'll keep using my magic for healing. But we need to get going; TimJames98 will be

expecting us."
Mountian!Bran: "Aaaaaaaannnnnnddddd done!!!"
Oswhite: "Get a room."
Meahwhile, at Sunspear ...
TimJames98: "Who's Joe?"
Bittersteel: "Don't listen to the ghost: I'll bet Bloodraven is playing another prank on us."

M: Mercy killing... No! You are planning plain murder. If you were attempting to render this soul a

common victim of your games
And you....Timjames.... you are selling your soul so that you may lay claim to power. You use the name of

Lady B as a proxy so that you may lay claim to the underworld powers.
All that was required to save the Lady Blizzardborn was a few dollars for medication, and now you two

threaten to destroy the world with a war that has escalated beyond control.
LB: Oh...the pain!  Seriously, this voodoo doll stuff has to stop!

T:At this moment, Mountian!Bran walked into the room with Oswhite and Myranda.
Me: Osgrey! You live! How?
Oswhite: I am no longer Eustace the Grey. I have become Eustace the White.
Mountian!Bran: I banished SuperRamsay to the depths of hell and stole his woman.
Me: But Count Balerion owns a two-way portal leading to The Seventh Hell.
Oswhite: Also, we accidently created a one-way portal to The Seven Hells.
Me: That must be what is causing Lady Blizzardborn pain. My Lady, you're back aches and head aches are

from the screams of dammed souls wailing in unending torment. Nothing to be alarmed with.


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Chapter 6. Coup de showshould be 2 chapters]

CB: I'm getting sick and tired of all the carping. How come Lady B gets all the sympathy????  I'm hungry.  

I just ate 666 dead people, and I'm still hungry!!!!

 And TJ: Spoilers?????  Really??????  Spoilers????? SPOILERS?????  Don't you have any decency at

ALL?????  Well, two can play at that game; so here goes: TJ WINS IN THE END, DESPITE BEING


So there!

Dear diary: I lied in my last entry.  I wasn't actually born.  I was hatched in a test tube belonging to a mad

alchemist and containing the real count's blood.  Needless to say, it was a dark and stormy night.  The test

tube was struck by lightning, and here I am.  Wouldn't that make a lovely flashback?  (It does.)

Some people are invading my territory; but Deadly seems to have the situation in claw.  The alligators are

proving useful, as is the portal.  The latter is also useful against Jon's wildlings.  Jon himself can go to the

dungeon, along with Bloodraven, Ser Glendon Ball, the Aegster Rabbit, the real Count Balerion (who

thinks he is Dunk of Flea Bottom), and assorted others.

It's a good thing my diary isn't posted in a public forum where people can read it.

(Secret instructions to Myranda: Pretend to be on their side, and then kill as many of them as possible.  

You can spare the over sexed Mountian chap, but only if you corrupt him.)
Meahwhile, in Westeros, a war is going on between Joffrey, Stannis, Tommen, Ireland, Robert Reid,

Donald Trump, and Fred Flintstone, to see who will be King. Voices have been raised suggesting Count

Balerion be an honest broker in the dispute. Also, the Reach sealed off its boundaries with Dorne.P buyer


TJ: Day of Meraxis, 897678574875386?

The-Mountain-That-Flies has proved his mettle today; banishing SuperRamsay to The Seventh Hell as

well as killing thirteen of The Twenty Good Men. So proud of this battlefield triumph was I that him

bending Myranda over the coffee table only mildly annoyed me.

Dirk did not think it was bothersome, even though he was eating Footy Loops. "Breakfast and a show!" is

how he described it.

Bittersteel was somewhat less understanding, asking the following.

Bittersteel: "Bran, what would Eddard think of you turning Winterfell into a brothel?"

Mountian!Bran: "Anyway, I'll probably get Moat Callin. As that castle has no sentimental value to me,

neither Eddard nor I will have a problem with me turning it into a kicking bachelor pad."

Oswhite: "DO NOT TAKE ME FOR A CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS!!! You can triple the property

value of Moat Callin by adding solar panels, constructing a swimming pool, restoring the walls and the

towers to their former glory, and by installing a dish so you can watch good HBO shows."

Mountian!Bran: "You mean LastWeekTonight?"

Oswhite: "Of course, what did you think I meant? Game of D&D blasphemy?!?" [aside] D&D need to stop

fucking with the series.

Me: "Bran, if you do move to Moat Callin, you should pass land ordinances to keep the Mudmen

segregated out of of your neighborhood. I mean, those Alligator Fuckers can come in as servants but too

many of them can be a problem."

All: " ... ... ... wow ..."

Me: "Just Saying ..."

Mountian!Bran: *as Asha walks into the room* "Hey Asha! Good thing you're here: You, Me, and Myranda

can make a trans-continental sandwich now."

Me: [aside] gross

Asha: "Look on the TV. You gotta see this!"
We turned on the Television, and were horrified by what we saw. The Anchorman was describing the

Anchorman: "Hello, and welcome to the 12 PM news. We have recently received a report informing us of

fighting going on in Westeros. We will now go to our war correspondent Tanselle-too-tall."
Tanselle: "Thanks Garth Goodbrook. Currently there are three major conflicts on the continent."
*the map behind her zoomed in on The Crownlands.*

Tanselle: "In The Crownlands, in a conflict known as The War of Ten Kings, multiple factions are

claiming to be the rightful heir to The Iron Throne. Joffery Baratheon, Tommen Baratheon, Stannis

Baratheon, Kathy Ireland, Robert Reid, Donald Trump, and Freddy Flintstone are all fighting each other in

The Crownlands. The Faith Militant has went so far as to declare Kings Landing a safezone, with

Warrior's Son Commander Max "the Mad" describing the situation as "Fucked Up Beyond Any


*the map behind her zooms right, towards The Countlands (which are between The Riverlands and The


Tanselle: "In The Countlands, Count Balerion is currently having his lands invaded by all of his neighbors

and rivals. Untold bloodshed is taking place, and peasants have reported seeing portals from The Seven

Hell from which spew out demonic forms."

*the map zooms to The North and The Lands Beyond The Wall*

Tanselle: "In The Frigid Icy Backwoods, Count Balerion's army has declared war against King Jon Snow

and The Kingdom Of The Free Folk. It is agreed upon by political scientists that whichever side wins will

fuck over The Nights Watch. Back to you Garth-"

The REAL Duncan the Tall: *walks in holding flowers and gets down on one ring.* "Tanselle, will you

marry me?"

Tanselle: "Oh Gods, YES! YES!!!"

Anchorman Garth Goodbrook: "There you have it; true love even in the midst of war."

The Order Of Disorder, watching the news from their sofa in Sunspear's guest wing, all let out an audible


Hodor: "Hodor Hodor Hodor Hodor." (translation: I love a wedding).

Mountian!Bran: "Wait, did she just say Count Balerion was attacking My Brother's Realm? We have to

stop him!!!"

Me: "We have the support of Dorne, now we need the support of The Reach. We shall ride the Greyhound

Bus to Oldtown; once I present Lady Blizzardborn's resurrection to The Citadel, all of The Reach will

support my cause. Surely Men of Science will not have a problem with a dead woman walking as a result

of Things That Should Not Be Known!!!

Lady Blizzardborn, are you comfortable with public speaking?"

LB: Nothing to be alarmed with?  But...but...it hurts!

Public speaking?  Did you say public speaking?  How could I possibly be comfortable with public


Alligators ransack Tansell and Garth Goodbrook's newsroom. Thrilling chase scene. Pounding staccato

music. Of course there are also fight scenes in which Dunk single-handedly fends off 20 gators. But

there are so many! Garth got gobbbled! One has its jaws closing in on D&T, as undead vultures swoop

from the darkened sky! Thunder. Commercial break. Then ...

"Quick, in here." A ahnd pulls them into a cave. "I'm Darth Sansa, and this is Theon, my disciple," says a

mysterious woman dressed in black with a weird gas-maskish thing. "Stay here with me and leanr mystical

powers unil the plot is ready for us to escape and help defeat evil. That won't happen until evil sems to

have triumphed."
Meanwhile, several hot scantily-clad vultures accost the heroes in D/Porne. "Hey, big boys, try us! Our

plot armour is so yeah!!!!!!!!"
Myranda: "Mounty-baby, you want me, we do this."
Audience: "No way. Even HBO wouldn't show that!"
Count's diary, ABC 1, Day -97: OK, saved Westeros from Wildlings and Others (for now!!!!). Grateful

North appointed me Robb's viceroy while he fights in Riverlands. The Freys will deal with him. All this

heroism is making me nauseous; but duty calls, so off to the Iron Islands with me and a select contingent

of alligators. Soon enough....
Randyll Tarly: "Count Balerion saved the North."
Wylla MANDERLY: ""Tym Jaime fought off SAuper-Ramsay and 20GM." [actually Mountain, of course]
RT: "21 attackers all together. I'm not impressed. The Count defeated thousands."
WM: "You're stupid."
RT: "Shut up.You're only a girl."

TJ: Now is the winter of our discontent ...

Count Balerion's forces march across the continent, savaging the lands.

King-Beyond-The-Wall Jon Snow, often referred to as "the bastard king", was routed in a battle outside

the walls of White Harbor. Now he and his Wildling Horde are preparing to make their last stand at

Winterfell. My prayers and hopes go out to King Jon and Queen Ygritte; may they persevere against The

Count's Cohorts!

In The Riverlands, Robb Stark has lost many men at the Battle of Blackwater Bay. Now he is forced to

make a deal with the Freys and attend a wedding held at The Crossing . . .

The 12 PM went off air for an hour, and when it went back on there was a tribute peace to their dead

anchorman Garth Goodbrook, as well as their missing War Correspondent Tanselle-Too-Tall (who was

last seen being chased by Alligators with her fieancee Duncan the tall).

However, I must not let fear cloud my judgement, as I need my sharp wits to persevere.

Earlier this morning, a flock of demon vultures arrived and began pestering us. Most of the winged-

basilisks that I use as messengers left their rookery and began chasing down and eating the demon

vultures. As a result, I had to surgically attach wings to mice and use those as messengers instead! Curses

upon Count Balerion's seventh grandfather: it will take months for Amazon to send me more Basilisks to

surgically attach wings to!

But the mice did their jobs, and The Maesters, Arch-Maesters, and Alchemists arrived for the Scientific

Summit in High Hermitage.

Best of all, my good friend Qyburn arrived.

Me: "Good, you came."

Qyburn: "These Grey Sheep will learn our genius now!"

I was glad to see him. But surprisingly, nobody was happier to see him than Myranda.

Myranda: "Father? Is that you?"

Qyburn: "Myranda!!! My sweet daughter: I feared I would never see you again after the judge declared me

*air-quotes* 'an unfit parent' *end air quotes*. Oh my daughter, you look like your mother except she

was an overweight summer islander. What have you been up to?"

Myranda: "Torturing people."

Qyburn: "That's my girl. But please tell me you didn't go outside like that: you'll catch a cold. Here, put on

this spare Maester robe I carry around with me. Good, how does that feel?"

Myranda: "Itchy and too big."

Qyburn: "Now I have to go with TimJames98 to present The Next Grand Idea."

So it was that Qyburn and I stepped onto the stage.
Me: "Maesters, Alchemists, Scribes; I come to you with news of a great discovery."

gathered scientists: *mutters*

Me: "Through the power of occult processes and dark sciences, I have defeated death itself!!! Behold

Lady Balerion; once cold and dead, now she once again walks among us!!!

The scholars gathered at the summit did not react unamiously to my showmanship.

ArchMaester Walgrave: "She's a Monster! An undead monster!!!"

GrandMaester Pycelle: "Unnatural! Unnatural! Unnatural! Unnatural! Unnatural! [and so on in this


ArchMaester Ryam: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

ArchMaester Marwyn: "I think I'm in love."

Qyburn: "Enough! Are you squalling children who hide from the unexplained?!?"

ArchMaester Ocley: Yes!"

Qyburn: "You're all a bunch of Grey Sheep, so for once in your lives act like men of science!"

ArchMaester Benedict: "Well ... It is fascinating. Lady Blizzardborn, tell us what being brought back from

the grave is like."

Many other Men of Science nodded in agreement.

LB: I'd like to melodramatically thank whoever has been helping with the pain reduction.  But I can't!  I

have a tooth hurting now!  There never was even philosopher that could bear the toothache patiently!

CB: We could remove your tooth along with your heart, if that would help.

ABC 1, Day -91
Dear diary:

My sorcerers are working on an elixir of immortality. If they succeed, I'll be able to rule the world for

eternity. That would be *splendid*.

Invaders all killed. Will make a lovely banquet. I spared some of their common soldiers, though; PR still

matters, iritatingly. Must take over all media.

In Iron Islands. Made deal with Euron: Gave him ring of power and helped elimnate rivals in exchange for

stopping incursions and being utterly subject to my inexorable will.

Roose Bolton (I gave him a ring, too) is attacking the bastard king w/ his vampires.

I hear shocking -- SHOCKING! -- rumours from Riverlands. Must launch an independent inquiry as

honest broker.

Next up: the Night's Watch has fallen on bad days and needs cleaning up. That'll be easy. Then I can solve

the 10 Kings War (the 7 previously mentioned and Flopsy, Mopsy, and cottontail).

Then the real fun starts! And I get dinner! Dinner alone can console the weary abysm of my being.

(Secret message to Myranda: Qyburn is yur father? Excellent. See if you can recruit. He's one of the few

people I truly admire.)

In D/Porne:
Archmaester Aem Weevil: "This interests me, and ties in with my own research. I would like to conduct

some experiments on the specimen."

Me: "Too bad, I reanimated her first! Do your own ground breaking research."
 ArchMaester Castos: "He's right Aem Weevil; we should all try to replicate this feat."
 ArchMaester Willifer: "I think I speak for the whole Citadel-"
 ArchMaester Zarabelo: "You don't speak for me, you string-theory disbelieving fool."
 ArchMaester Willifer: "-when I say that this is the most important scientific breakthrough in history!!!

Even more important than when we cured Renly's homosexuality by dunking him in a vat of ice."

 Pyromancer Wisdom Rossart: "The secret to that was that frostbite set in in his genitals, rendering him

impotent. Also we had to cut off most of Renlys fingers. And our treatment gave him intense PTSD,

making so distrusting of everyone in general that he can no longer form any relationships romantic or


 ArchMaester Suggs: "Yeah, not our proudest moment. Willies, please continue before we remember

more times we mistreated test subjects."

 ArchMaester Willifer: "Qyburn, we were wrong about you: to recompensate you, we'll not only reinstate

your chain but will also declare you ArchMaester of Necromancy."
 ArchMaester Qyburn: "This is the happiest day of my life!!!"
 Myranda: "What about the day I was born?"
 ArchMaester Qyburn: "Whenever I think back to that day, I become sad because I remember all the lost

time we could have spent doing father-daughter things like violating the Geneva Conventions."
 ArchMaester Willifer: "Not only that, but I hereby award ArchMaester Qyburn, TimJames98, and Lady

Blizzardborn each with A Nobel Prize."
 TimJames98: "I can not tell you what an honor it is to watch as great a man as myself recieve the

recognition I deserve!"
 Mountian!Bran: *with Asha sitting in his lap* "Don't inflate your ego too much."
 Now with the backing of the scientific community of The Seven Kingdoms, we can face The Evil Count

Balerion [evil is actually a title he was awarded with after his role in The Reynes of Castamere].
 Mountian!Bran: "We have to go to Winterfell to save my brother!!!"
 Me: "And save him we shall. Roose Bolton's Vampire Army will not be expecting The Golden Company

to be driving up his rear."
 Mountian!Bran: "I am so serious about saving by brother that I won't even make a dirty joke about that."
 All Of Us: "Hay Ho Winterfell Ho!!!"
 With Grant Money in hand, we flew on a plane for White Harbor where we would meet up with The

Golden Company and Save King Jon.

Unfortunately, the plane crashed almost immediately, having been sabotaged by alligators.

When they rose out of the rubble somewhere in the Dornish Desert, not too far from the Reach border,

they found that Lady B had vanished! "Ha! ha!" laughed Aem Weevil's voice. "You thought you could thwart

me! You and those literal grey sheep I just turned the other maesters into!"

Then 20 mysteious flaming figures turned up. "I'm Flame-Ramsey and these are the 19 Good Men

Mounty didn't eat. As you can see, this is unquenchable helfire. Also, you can't kill me because I already

died. been there, done that."

Then he burnt Dirk and the NW deserters to a heap of ashes and ate them.

"Why them? They were just a bunch of fun-loving guys you could have a drink with in Mole Town, or a

girl, or both," said someone.

"They had the least plot armour," said the narrator. "This ain't 'What I did over my summer holidays'. This

here's melodrama. No more easy victories for you!"

"Count Badguy [his real name, of course] gets easy victories," someone pointed out.

"There's a reason he's called Count Badguy," explained the narrator. "He's the villain, the antagonist, who's

supposed to create suspense. An audience member complained that the show has almost as much

suspense as Sesame Street. 'I know the hero is just going to waltz into evil HQ, kill al the badguys, and

waltz out, so no thanks, I'll watch to see whether Oscar the Grouch eats the trash before the roaches get

all of it.' We don't want that, so things are going to get hairy. Which measn evil must seem unbeatable

over slightly-less-evil, until suddenly, WOW, less-evil triumphs!"

Dear Diary:
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps on this petty pace from day to day, and all our yesteryears

have lighted fools the way to dusty death.

NW settled. Of 117 members, 94 are convicted of breaking vows and executed. 11 suspected and

imprisoned. Suggested remiander elect Slynt; 9 did, with 3 abstaining: Grenn, Pyp, and Edd. The latter

said he'd had a lovely dream about digging his own grave, and that he prefered that to Slynt as Lord

Commander. "That can be arranged," said Slynt. "I'll leave you chaps to it; wouldn't want to interfere in

your private affairs," said I.

Jon in Winterfell dungeon. Batfinger has secured Vale by lopping off Lysa. The showrunners tell me

Riverlands don't exist right now; wish they'd make up minds.

Now to business in Kings Landing.Dear Diary:

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps on this petty pace from day to day, and all our yesteryears

have lighted fools the way to dusty death.

NW settled. Of 117 members, 94 are convicted of breaking vows and executed. 11 suspected and

imprisoned. Suggested remiander elect Slynt; 9 did, with 3 abstaining: Grenn, Pyp, and Edd. The latter

said he'd had a lovely dream about digging his own grave, and that he prefered that to Slynt as Lord

Commander. "That can be arranged," said Slynt. "I'll leave you chaps to it; wouldn't want to interfere in

your private affairs," said I.

Jon in Winterfell dungeon. Batfinger has secured Vale by lopping off Lysa. The showrunners tell me

Riverlands don't exist right now; wish they'd make up minds.

Now to business in Kings Landing.

 Helplessly, The Heroic Fellowship watch in horror as Dirk and the other Night's Watch Deserters are

burned to ash by Ramsay Snow's fire.



slam my fists upon the ground in sorrow, the joy that accompanied my Noble Prize Awarding evaporated.*

Flame-Ramsay drew his flaying knife and approached Myranda. "I know you fucked that Stark Boy; The

Lord of The Seven Hells forced me to watch as part of my punishment. Now I'm going to show you what I

do to traitors."

However, before Ramsay could act, Oswhite struck down his staff and chanted in The Language of The

Dawn Civilization. It was a spell, transporting his companions to the farms outside Highgarden. However,

this came with sacrifice as Oswhite was left behind with Lady Blizzardborn and Ramsay. His magic

drained from this spell, the wise old man was now powerless.

"If you kill me, I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

Ignoring this warning, Ramsay sicked his one remaining hunting dog. the dog, Kyra, jumped up and tore

out Oswhite's throat. As he fell dead upon the ground, the wizard's body and staff dissipated. Only his

white robes were left behind.

An annoyed look on his face, Ramsay kicked the robes a few times. "Alright Good Men, time to go


In tears, Myranda was on her knees.

Myranda: "He was going to kill me!"

Qyburn: *putting his hand on her shoulder to comfort his daughter* "I won't let anyone hurt you.


Meanwhile, the rest of The Fellowship of Heroic Companions was in despair.

Bittersteel: "He killed them. They were innocent Deserters, and he killed him. That Bolton Bastard is

worse than Ten Bloodravens."

Mountian!Bran: *sitting in a hopeless stupor* "That was our last hope. That flight was our last hope. Now

there's no way for us to save my brother now ..."

Asha: *We can't give up now. Come on, we have to get moving ..." *she is not able to even convince


Me: "Waaaaaaa waaaaaaaaaa waaaaaaaaa!"

As we sat wallowing in self-pity, a group of riders approached bearing The Golden Rose of Highgarden.

The lead rider lifted his helm, revealing himself to be Randyll Tarly.

Randyll: "You are all under arrest for soiling the purity of Margaery Tyrell."

None of us had the resolve to draw our weapons.

Me: "Fine. Just take us to him."

Chained, we were taken to Highgarden.

Mace sat upon The Oakseat, his face red with fury. Standing at Mace's right was Randyll Tarly with

Randyll's ward Wylla Manderly.

Me: "Yeah yeah, sorry about letting Bran fuck your daughter. Can we please get it over with."

Mace: *slamming his fist and standing up* "You dare speak to me in such a manner! You do not know how

bad this discrace is: my sweet daughter has stopped moon-bleeding, and soon her belly will grow great

with pregnancy. A bastard pregnancy!"

Mountian!Bran listened, realizing that spreading his seed around has been a tad bit irresponcible.

Mountian!Bran: "What if I restored her honor?"

Mace: "How?"

Mountian!Bran: "I'll marry her, and the baby in her belly will be trueborn. It will save you from having to

explain to your grandson how you killed his father."

Mace: "On one condition: you must beat my champion Ser Arthur Dayne in a Trial By Combat."

Mountian!Bran: "It shall be done."

Mace: "And no help from your wizard."


All the lords of The Reach gathered in the room were shocked by this news as Lord Osgrey was one of

their own.

Nethertheless, Mountian!Bran and Arthur Dayne faced off in a duel to the death.

Steel clashed with steel, as Mountian!Bran's duel greatswords struggled to match the speed of Dawn.

Arthur Dayne sneered, "I'm about to fuck you up worse than my first boss fucked up your aunt."

Mountain!Bran was about to lose, but from the corner of his eye he could see Margaery Tyrell enter the

room. With strenghened resolve, he crossed his two greatswords together and used them to knock Dawn

out of Arthur Dayne's hands.

In the back of his head, Bran could hear a voice. Grab his throat! ordered the voice, and Bran complied.

As Bran lifted Arthur Dayne up by the throat, the voice spoke further. Squeeze and twist! Slowly. Make

him suffer!

As Bran squeezed the life out of him, Arthyr Dayne kicked wildly at the air and clawed at his throat.

Harder. Harder!

After a few minutes of this, Arthur Dayne was dead. Mountian!Bran let the corpse fall to the ground, and

the entire court was in shock. Mace was red with wrath, as he had hoped his champion would win.

But none the less, Bran proved himself. There was a wedding, and a bedding. But while Margaery, Asha,

and Myranda were taking turns with him, Bran had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. And that

feeling became a voice once the four of them were sleeping in an attempt to recharge.

That's right, the voice whispered, I'm still here. You like it don't you: the power, the raw physical strength,

the benefits of being well-endowed, the ability to excel at all Olympic events. But it comes with a price,

there is always a price. I'm still here.

The voice was that of Gregor Clegane.


[Yep, the Big Guy of the heroic group has a murderous lunatic slowly taking over his mind. And the

Wizard is dead. And Mace is pissed off. Melodramatic enough for ya?]

"Hey, where's Lady B?" said Myranda.

"She's here; she just has blue scales," said someone.

"Before I turned evil, I was Lady B's maid," said Myranda. "That's not her! Not even undead her!" Now how

is that only a minor character with no magic powers saw through the disguise? Plot convenience, that's


Then in pops one of the Tyrells, probably Margaery. "Shocking news!" he said. "The citadel has been taken

over by an Archmaester Aem Weevil, and ... he's evil! Almost as evil as Qyburn!"

Meanwhile, Oscolour might be alive studying as Weyrde's apprentice somewhere. But the audeince thinks

he's dead! Except the ones who think R+L=O, of course. "It isn't as though the showrunners were fussy

about chronology," they point out.

A little voice in Qyburn's head said "You'd have a lot more fun if you worked for the count. Torture torture

torture torture."

Then more shocking news comes from King's Landing! It's on the only news channel not blocked out, the

count's News Network:

What is this dark figure swooping down from the sky to the tune of ominous music?

It's the Count on an enormous demon vulture! Flanked by Deadly, Roose Bolton, Walder Frey, Aerion

Brightflame, and 20 Flaming Flayers!

"I heard you had a King problem," he said mildly. "I think I can solve that. You've got ten contenders, is it,

and you don't know whom to choose? How abut none of the above? I'm not only named after a dragon, I

can turn into a literal dragon!" (he does, then turns back. ish.)

"This is most irregular," protested the High Septon.

"Oh, don't worry," said the Count. "You don't have to crown me. I am my own god, and i will crown

myself!" And he places an enormous and hideous black anthracite crown on his head! Pitch darkness as

the sun is blotted out! Lightning sears the sky! "This is my hour: the power of darkness!"

"Oh dear! He seemed so nice!" said Lady Gullybell.

"The Long Night begins!" And Others turn up as if on cue and eat the rival claimants to the throne.

But Cottontail uses plot powrs to escape ...

(In a press conference, His Omnipotence subsequently explains he only has minor adjustments to the

Westerosi Constitution in mind, such as making B'llorism the official religion and restoring slavery and

human sacrifice. He also invents TSA, probably in case Team TJ find another airplane. Dates from now on

shall be reckoned according to ABC.)


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Chapter 7. Reign of error

"I can't help you. It's too politically risky," said Mace. "Not that I'm overfond of the Count either. You

necromancers creep me out. I prefer good old-fashioned chivalry, or at least ploitical intrigue."

"You're stupid," said Wylla Manderly.

"Why are you even here, girl?" said Tarly. "Does this look like White Harbour?"

"The narrator said so," said Wylla. Then she sent a secret message to her allies ...

[in the end, probably the badguy is beaten by a pencil sharpener. and then dirk comes back to life!

oscolour hopefully turns up before then; i like him b/c he actually is good]

TJ: The revelation that there was a traitor among was a cause for gasps.
Me: "You scaled beast! What have you done with Lady Blizzardborn??? Guards, take her to The Rose

The two Highgarden Guards complied, dragging the impostor away and flinging her into a dungeon (the

walls of which were made not of brick but rather of sweet smelling rose bushes).
Qyburn turned on the television and entered the room. "Guys, we got a problem. Count Balerion has

closed down the airports; there's no way to get to The North now."
Mountian!Bran: "Then it really is hopeless then? They killed Mom, Dad, Robb, probably Arya and Sansa

'cause nobody knows where they went, and now they're gonna kill Jon Snow."
Me: "Perhaps not. Remember how I was initally able to get Lady Blizzardborn out of Icetown?"
Mountian!Bran: *look of realization dawning on his face* "Holy Fuck! Wifey dear, do you know if your

father closed down the tunnel?"
Margaery: "No."
Wylla: "You can ride the subway tunnel to save your brother!"
Randyll Tarly: "Seriously, why are you here?"
Wylla: "I'm your ward. Daddy sent me to your castle to improve Manderly-Tarly relations."
Randyll: "It's not working."
Me: "Not Working! Randyll you're a genius!!!"
Randyll: " ... thanks? ..."
Me: "If we try riding the subway Count Balerion can stop us with roadblocks ..."
Qyburn: " ... but if we attach guns and one of those triangular train things to the subway then Count

Badguy's roadblocks will end up not working!"
Me: "Boo yah!"
Qyburn: "Call me a war criminal because these civilians have just been Logic Bombed!"
Myranda: "We don't have much time to lose. Bittersteel, can you make the necessary upgrades???"
Bittersteel: "They don't call me Aegor Rivers for Nothing!" *runs off to make necessary ubgrades to

subway train*
Asha: "Be sure to make it amphibious too! The Showrunners seem to have arbitrarily have decided that

The Riverlands no longer exist: that whole region will be naught but a lake stretching from The Reach to

The Neck!"

Me: *On Iphone 15, which is Steve Fossoway's most recent invention* "Hello, Oberyn Martell? I'll need

your skill at arms. Also, bring the entire Dornish Army behind you."
Mountian!Bran: *holding Asha's hands with his left hand and Myranda's hands with his right hand* "Girls,

you both are the best paramours a man can hope for. I promise, once this is all finished I will marry you."
Asha: "You already married Margaery."
Mountian!Bran: "The Old Gods allow Polygamy: Chieftians Beyond-The-Wall do it all the time."
Hodor: "Hodor Hodor ... hodor hodor hodor hodor ... Hodor Hodor ..."
(Translation: Our Old Gods, who art in The Celestian Weirwood, please have mercy upon us ...)
Me: "This has to work this has to work this has to work this has to work-"


After long hours of feverish construction and preparation, the great subway engine is ready. Part Subway

Train, Part Earth Drill, Part Tank, Part Speed Boat, and All Badass: it is called "Courtesy" because that is a

ladies armor (Asha, Margaery, Myranda, Wylla, and Ellaria all insisted on coming along).
Me: "Let's get ready to fuck shit up! If Melodrama is a sensational dramatic piece with exaggerated

characters and exciting events intended to appeal to the emotions, than I'd say this piece of badass glory

fits the bill."
Mountian!Bran: "I'm coming brother Jon. Hold on just a little longer."
And so, The Heroic Band entered The Leviathan known as Courtesy and powered the engine on. It let

loose a mighty roar as it began to eccelarate forth.
Behind it followed thousands of Dornishman. Infantry armed with spears, swords, M-16s and sharpened

rocks. Cavalry riding on horses, donkeys, half-tracks, tanks, and buggies.
All of them went marching towards The North, intent on freeing Jon Snow and saving his Freefolk from

The Bolton Vampires.

[Osgrey/Oswhite {or "Oscolour" as you call him} is like if you combined all the best parts of Santa

Clause, Gandalf, and Dumbledore {leaving out the bad parts, of course}. He'll be the most likely as King

once Moral Ambiguity triumphs over Unambiguous Evil. Expect a few Epic Battles coming up.].

Dr. Weevil, report, day 1, ABC 1: Experiments show ugh levels in specimen's ectoplasm are steady at

2,170.06666666666666666666. Indications of elevated goodlions which may hinder operation of

blekhium. De-goodliization process requires advanced evilized laboratoria. Specimen entrusted to new

Braavosi acolyte who wears a mask and calls herself No one, and whom therefore I trust implicitly.

Count's diary, day 1, ABC 1:
L'enfer, c'est les autres, says a character in a play by Sartre. Particularly, of course, if these autres are

Dornish. The Dornish scum must be desalt with, so I've passed a series of anti-Dornish decrees and

founded an anti-Dornish mass movement called the Westerazis. I designed a really cool sigil! I've decided

to have evil neon armadillos invade Porne.

(Audience: "Wow! Get a load of that CGI!")

I've also changed the name of King's Landing to Baleriopolis and started a personality cult. When I'm

done conquering this world, I'm going to invade Narnia and overthrow Aslan, then conquer Oz and kill

Ozma, then murder hazel and take over the rabbits, then ...

But we mustn't get ahead of schedule. I see in my crystal ball that TJ and Co. ar taking the subway. Fools!

Don't you know the whole reason Snow is still alive is to lure you into my dungeons of despair? Although

I still plan to have lots of fun with arbitrary closings, single tracking, delays, etc. Yes, there are few more

delightful engines of torture than public transit!

Is trhis not, indeed, what power is for: to indukge petty animosity?

And when Lady b arrives, at last my melancholia can be assuaged. Why does no one pity me? And maybe

the res of the omniverse also has antidepressants I can get when I conquer it.

TJ: As the mechanics of Old Valyria were clever, the tunnel was completely waterproof even when it went

under that giant lake that currently occupies the place in the map where The Riverlands would have been

had The Showrunners decided not to have it exist.

But while the submarine parts proved unnecessary, the drill part was quite useful: ramming through all the

roadblocks, closings, and everything else with ease.

At Lake Inconsistency, The Dornish Army split in two. One half marched upon The Crownlands under the

leadership of Oberyn Martell, the other half continued behind Courtesy. There they joined up with Mace

Tyrell's army (lead by Randyll Tarly) with the intent of ending Count Balerion's reign of terror (plus

Margaery told Mace in no uncertain terms that he had better support her husband if he wanted to see his


In The North, Courtesy erupted from the tunnel and bore an exit just outside of The Wolfwoods. With

Dornish Army in tow, The Heroic Fellowship now stood poised to retake Winterfell and Liberate The


Meanwhile, the portal that Flame Ramsay opened up from The Seven Hells was growing, and now The

Boneway was utterly blocked as demonic forms emerged. This will put a real hindrance in Count

Balerion's armies if he tries to assault through there.

]Myranda: "Daddy, I've been thinking…  Os gave up his life for us, for me…  me who has been doing nasty

things to people!…  So maybe being evil is bad!  Maybe I should turn…  good!" *treacly piano music;

soupy, sappy chorus singing AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!*

At this moment, 200,043 Westerazi thugs armed with nuclear weapons invaded the train, wiped out two-

thirds of the Dornish army and half the Reachish army, and commandeered the train and took it to the

Crossing station in the Riverlands. Of course there was an epic battle on the train.

'But there is no such thing as the Riverlands, you said!  Can't you even keep your anti-GRRM blasphemies

straight?" said the Rant and Rave people.

"We creatively changed our minds", said the show runners.  "The Riverlands exist as an underwater city

under a futuristic dome, inhabited by fat mer-monsters.  Isn't that awesome?"

There are several of these mer-monsters among the Westerazis, including a very fat one who says, "It

seems that I have wiped all the Starks, hehe heh, but that's OK, I'll just issue an /apology/, heh eh


"Wiped out?" says Darth Sansa, suddenly revealing herself.

[the goodguys can escape, but only with difficulty, possibly by detonating the train; and Walder Frey

doesn't die yet. He's protected by his ring of power.

Of course the dmons are no obstacleto the Count. He sold his soul, so they're all on his side.]
Count's diary, ABC 1, day 24:
I've commissioned a Westerazi national anthem. So farr, my favourite candidate is:
Count save our evil Count,
of torment he's the fount;
Count save the Count.
Long last his tyranny,
damn us eternally,
without mercy or pity;
Count save the Count.

I also want to install cameras in the 7 Hells so I can watch the sufferings of the damned.

For did not the 7 Hells defecate my screaming soul?

Oh, and I bought the Iron Bank and renamed it Countibank. All selves not mine must be enslaved with

debt, or destriyed!

The goodguys seem to be falling into the traps. Maybe I should have let them make it to Winterfell, just

to see the look on their faces when they see how it's been redecorated! Oh well, they could always escape

the Freys and make their way back there.

tj: The ambush caught everyone unprepared and unsuspecting. The 200,000 Westernazi thugs were armed

with Dr. Weevil's Atomic Rifles, which they used to shoot atomic energy at themselves so as to gain

superpowers. While the westernazis's new superpowers consisted entirely of cancer, the temporary jolt

of energy gave these racist bigots enough of an edge to win the battle.

As bullets whizzed through the air, Qyburn ducked down and pulled his daughter down with him so as to

protect her.  
Qyburn: "You're right, we should honor Oswhite's memory and follow his example! I swear to Gods old

and new, if we survive this I'll stop preforming human experiments. Unless they're on willing volunteers

or paid test subjects."
Myranda: "And I swear I'll stop torturing people who don't deserve it. I'll be a gaoler in Bran's castle and

only torture those who DO deserve it."
Qyburn: "I'm sorry I wasn't around for you growing up, but I promise I'll be a better father from now on."

In The Second Battle of The Valyrian Subway Tunnel, over 40% of the combined Reachlander-Dornish

host was wiped out. The rest of this host fled to aid in the liberation of White Harbor, but The Heroic

Fellowship was taken prisoner to an underwater city called The Crossing. As there is no bridge here, this

name is arbitrary.
Me: "Really? D&D kept the name but not the geography? This is almost as bad as sticking The Jade Sea

smack dab in the middle of Eastern Essos."
[No really, compare an Asoiaf map and a Agot map. You'll see that D&D, in their finite "wisdom", decided

to make The Jade Sea not south of Essos but rather east of it.]

As the mermen lead them into the room, Wylla was able to speak their language due to her Manderly

Me: "Walder Frey, I should have recognized your stench."
Wally Frey: " Heh. HEH HEH HEH! Now there's nothing you can do, no mayhaps about it."

But suddenly, a large burst of smoke appeared in the center of the room. When it cleared, Darth Sansa

was standing there.

Mountian!Bran: "Sansa! My dear sister, you're alive! Now my life isn't as big a bowl of suck as I

Darth Sansa: "Now let's save Brother Jon!"
With that, she shot Rhllor flames out of her hands and burned Walder Frey alive. While this did not kill

him [magic ring], it still hurt like hell.
At that moment, about half of the mer-folk started rioting as per Wylla Manderly's instructions.
Wylla: "Whose useless now big meanie?!?"
Randyll Tarly: *leading defense in Ashford* "Still you. Also, how are you in my head?"

With Machineguns, Mountain!Bran and Bittersteel began gunning a pathway through Walder's guards. The

Heroic Fellowship was able to reach Courtesy and ride that motherjamma out of there!
Asha: "Yee Hah! Look at that mothajamma go!"

During the ride, Bran and Sansa exchanged stories.
Mountain!Bran: "This is my wife Margaery Tyrell, my paramour Asha Greyjoy, my other paramour

Myranda (I'm gonna marry them once this finishes up). Also, I killed Arthur Dayne and I'm fighting against

Darth Sansa: "Turns out I'm a Greenseeress, so now I can do magic. Me and Theon have a thing going on,

and I've started a political satire show called The Sansa Report (with Taneselle-too-tall and Duncan-very-

tall as correspondents), and I both fight against and satirize evil."
Mountain!Bran: "Too bad Oswhite isn't here: he could be your mentor and teach you magic."

But sadly, the engine was overheating. By the time they landed in Count Balerion's courtyard, the train's

engine had run out of steam.

Now they were surrounded.


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Chapter 8. Durance vile
Meanwhile, at Kings Landing, the other Combined Reachman-Dornelander host were assaulting Kings

Landing. However, the city was defended by a host of demons that will only perish if their load bearing

overlord is still unconquered.

Oberyn Martell: "The Count's Cohorts are too strong!"
Elia Martell's ghost formed out of the clouds, similar to how the ghost of Simba's dad did that in The

Lion King Kong.
Elia Cloud Ghost: "Oberyn ... oooooooberyn ..."
Oberyn: "Sister?!"
Elia: "bbbbbbbbbbbeeeeeeeeelllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeee    


Oberyn: I WILL! Charrrrrrrrrrggggggggeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

CB: The Heroic Fellowship were surrounded by 1,700,041 demons, alligators, vampires, hedge fund

managers, armadillos: and other nasties, against only 237 good guys, of whom 128 were seriously

wounded!  Hordes of vultures descended from the sky, dropping bombs of utter despair!  The CGI

becomes extreme!  There is no hope!! There is no hope!!!!!

But Weyrde appeared to TJ and spake: "I'd rather eat a parrot than a…oogh!…  owl!  Oh yeah?  What's so

oogh about an owl?  They tastes like raw, hoppy toads, that's what!  Cannibal! You've eaten owl meat! Not

voluntarily, they tortured me! How tortured you? By forcing me to eat owl meat!" Which meant: "Don't

worry, I'll give you a "Get out of dungeon free" card after you've been mouldering for a while. The

showrunners want to whitewash you, though, so you should repent necromancy and get a nice shiny suit

of armour. I suggest zappos.com. Also, leave the bit about human sarcifice out of the resume and put

'rightsized life' instead.  Oh, and wouldn't Taejar be a cool chivalric name? It'd roxor!"

Now would be as good a time as any to describe the Count's castle, Castle Cruel. It's an enormous Gothic

castle perched upon a precipice and surrounded by a moat of burning quicksand inhabited by tentacled

demon-alligators as well as a radioactive barbed-wire fence with human heads on spikes and living,

tortured limbs. Bats, owls, and ghosts flit about the ruined turrets. The castle is a mixture of an ominous

black and the red of human blood! There are also bits of green a    nd yellow from internal organs. The

inside, of courseis even gorier, and is lit entirely from the flames of burning victims! The dungeon, when

we gget there, is a noisome pit that doubles as te demon-monters' cesspool; all the prisoners

(Bloodraven, the real count who thinks he's Dunk, Ser Glendon, and whoever else is there), hang from the

wall, which is actually a good thing, since you wouldn't want to touch that floor. The dungeon is inhabited

by giant radioactive roaches and rats.
Count's diary:

Things are going well, though I wonder when Lady B will turn up. Dr, Weevil needs to get with it. I have a

plan to toss GRRM's filthy heretic books into the & Hells. This wll make me invincible and my reign

sempiternal! That and munching Lady B's heart may make up for the turments of my 7 Sand Snake wives,

who have been playing a stupid slap game while execuing badly choreographed fight-scenes.

While my forces overrun Westerros, I vinvented concentration camps to send Dorne-scum to, and rap

music to torture victims' ears with. Also, I renamed Winterfell "Winterhell" and ordered the Boltons to

cut down the weirwood and have a temple to me built, with an enormous idol of my likeness made of

human gore. Won't that be loverly?
KL ... the showrunners say it doesn't ...! oh, they changed their minds. Demo vultures wiped out 9/11 of

the Dornish army, the rest were seized and are headed for a concentration camp! Except Ob., Ellaria, and

a handful of others.

What is happening with Lady B? Stay tuned!

[hopefully we can draw ti out till All Saint's, although i may be out on Halloween.]

TJ: As the assorted evil things stand gathered around, we had no choice but to lay down our arms and

In hindsight, expecting mercy from someone who rules a seat called Castle Cruel was not the best

decision on my part. His soldiers lobbed Despair Bombs upon us. Despair Bombs are a chemical weapon

so inhumane that The UN's description of it is: "No! Oh No! Oh God,why! No! Nonono!"
Darth Sansa was the only one who reacted in time, as her greenseeress allowed her to transport herself

and others across from one location to the other. But sadly, she only had enough power to bring a few

with her. She brought with her Wylla Manderly (who was a child innocent in all of this), Margaery Tyrell

(who was pregnant with her nephew), Myranda (who would suffer unimagionable torture if she was in the

prison when Flame-Ramsay arrived with Lady Blizzardborn, and Hodor (who'se mental disabilities made

him unlikely to survive captivity).
Mountain!Bran nodded in acceptance, knowing his sister could not bring him. She held Theon's hand one

last time, then transported herself and those few others with her back to her secret hideout.
We were dragged to the dungeons, and thrown onto a platform on a column sticking out of the cesspool.

From the walls, the non-VIP (Very Important Prisoner) prisoners were chained up by the arms. Among

them was Ser Geldon, Ser Nameless Mook, some random rando, and Bloodraven.
Bittersteel: "Bloodraven, I should have expected to find you here you piece of shit!"
Bloodraven: "You're the traitor."
Bittersteel: "I tried to SAVE the kingdom! You murdered your own kin!!! You subverted deomcracy and

slew a guest! You sniviling dickhole, you rancid roadkill, you rotten old-"
While Bittersteel and Bloodraven verbally insulted each other, Bran underwent his own conversation. He

heard a voice in his head, but for a change it was not that of Gregor Clegane. This voice was elderly, and

offered sage wisdom.
Mentor Voice: "Use the Force, Bran."
Mountain!Bran: "The force?"
Mentor Voice: "Your force. Your force of will. That is what makes you strong, that is why you can control

that muscle machine, that is why Gregor will never take control again, and that is what will get you and

your comrades out of there."
Mountain!Bran: "Thank you. I must survive, for Asha and Margaery and Myranda. They need me."
Mentor Voice: "I will be with you always."
As Bran found confidence from a Mentorly Voice in his head, I lamented my fate and my life choices. Oh

how low I've sunken. What would Lord Thaddeus of House Toad, the now-dead man I was a squire to in

my boyhood years, have thought of my giving up so easily?!??
It was at this point that Weyrde approached me, tried to talk me into renouncing my life's works.
Me: "This I can not! I have made mistakes aplenty, but trying to restore Lady Blizzardborn's life was not

one of them! What right do we have to declare a branch of science "unnatural" or "a violation of nature"?

My only mistake was not searching for a form of necromancy that could be practiced without human

sacrifices in honor of The Old Ones or The Cold Ones. I vow, if I survive this I shall use my knowledge

for good: I will search for a way to bring the dead back to life without human sacrifice, and when I find it I

will open a foundation to provide it to dead and dying children, and I will do research to ensure the

necromanced do not have physiology similar to The Corpses Bride. I promise, a new TimJames98 is born

this day!"
It was at this moment that I began to feel a soft glowing around his torso, as though he was wearing armor.

He was: it was Plot Armor.


While this is going on, The Sansa Report aired once again. As it has every Sunday.
Darth Sansa: "I'm Sansa Stark, and welcome to the report! Recently, Count Balerion passed a law sending

Dornishmen to internment camps. And that's right, I said Count! That is because Balerion is and always

will be, #NotMyKing!"
cue audience laughter at this recurring joke.
Darth Sansa:"Now while we are having trouble finding a solution to this mysterious racey racey racist

racist racist racey racist racism problem, it turns out that Pentos has had a good scheme for years. Surely

this is a good lesson for The Seven Kingdoms to ignore. This will be covered by my correspondent,

Duncan the tall."
Dunk: "Thank you. I will begin my search by talking with our of our politicians, Jamie Lannister of The

House of Lords."
*cut to Dunk interviewing Jon Snow's Kingsguard Knight*
Dunk: "Jamie, why can't we pass anti-racism laws?"
Jamie: "The Westernazi party is very powerful, and you have to be careful when opposing them. They have

over three million members-"
Dunk: "And what can a Realm of 1.5 billion people do to oppose them?"
Jamie: "I know, it looks pretty bleak. But we have to be careful, because supporting anti-racism laws can

be political suicide."
Dunk (voiceover): "That's right, and the Noble Party has been working hard to cut back on political

suicide among their members. Surely no Pentosi politicians would be dumb enough to risk their political

necks over anti-racism laws?"
Tattered Prince: "Well I did."
Dunk (satirically feigning surprize): "WHAT?!?"
Tattered Prince: "I took the stand, did the right thing, and as a result got Exiled from Pentos and stripped

of my Prince title."
Dunk (satirically feigning surprize): *stares slack jawed*
Tattered Prince: "Kings and princes serve their realm, not the other way around."
Dunk (voiceover): "Over here, Westerosi Noblemen know the Aristocracy has more important

Dunk: "What is a Lord's Purpose."
Jamie: "Advancing the influence and power of his house."
Dunk: " ... right. That's what's important."
Jamie: "And passing laws."
Dunk: " ... is second. That is second? Holy fuck that is second?"
Jamie: "If I can go back, I'd say passing laws is first and advancing family influence is second."
Dunk: "... but seeing as we can't, let's just go with your instinctual response."
Jamie: "It is what it is."
Dunk (to Tattered Prince): "What is a Lord's Purpose?"
Tattered Prince: "Making his realm a better place."
Dunk: "Nnnnnnooo. Ok, let's try again. What is a Lord's Purpose?"
Tattered Prince: "The Aristocrat has a certian Noblesse Oblige towards the smallfolk-"
Dunk: "We can rewind the tape if you want."
Tattered Prince: "Hope you have a lot of tape."
Dunk (voiceover): In The Seven Kingdoms, they tell us anti-racism laws can't be passed. But over in

Pentos, they have showed us that they can. Giving us a perfect lesson to ignore."
Dunk: "Thank you Tattered Prince, you are a wonderful human being."
Tattered Prince: "Thank you."
Dunk: "But by Westerosi Standards, you're a shitty politician. And the fact that that is true is why I am

going to go home, make love to my dornish wife, and cry in her arms afterwards."
*Cuts back to Darth Sansa*
Darth Sansa: "That's the report, see you next time!"

CB: [stuff will come out by degrees]

I should have mentioned that it rains fire and brimstone around Castle Cruel, and among the insane

number of assailants were Otnhers (as a result of my treaty they're allowed in if they work for me) and

sentient jack o'lanterns, skeletons, trick-or-treaters, ETC.

*scenes of count torturing and eating random people, while song plays in background*

You're a mean one, Mr. Count
 You really are no true knight.
 You're as cuddly as Hoat, Vargo,
 You're as charming as a wight.
 Mr. Count.

 You're a bowl of brown
 infested by crab lice.

 You're a monster, Mr. Count.
 Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spoilers,
 You've got Sand Snakes in your soul.
 Mr. Count.

 I wouldn't touch you, with a
 thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.

 You're a vile one, Mr. Count.
 You have Ramsay's flaying weapon in your smile.
 You have all the tender sweetness
 Of Ghiscari crocodile.
 Mr. Count.

 Given the choice between the two of you
 I'd take the Ghiscari crockodile.

Dr. Weevil's report, day 38:
Specimen exhibits "cold"-like symptoms when I add faegon to the bizarratin injections. Am attempting

greyscale infusion to determinate resultata. Considering splicing Dornish gene, but funding agency

("Count") may prove disapprobational. He may not want to ingest Dornogenetically infused cardiac


Day 39: Applied alligatorial genomic substance to mitocondriac hooha. Awaiting results.

Day 43: Subject complaining of influenziac symptomata. Ingested with Ghiscari doglion to improve taste

for funding authority.

Day 47: Subject has absentiated with assistant ("No one"). Exercised noodominatrics ("mind control")

upon grey sheep (formerly "archmaesters") and expedited in pursuitism. Awaiting results.
Arya: "It's only a stupid cold. Shut up."
Oberyn, Ellaria, and 5 companions heroically chase after the train headed for the concentration camp,

leap from their horses onto the train, and wage epic battle to free their comrades!
19 Flaming Flayers (minus Flame-Ramsay) have been sent to Darth Sansa's HQ! Will they find her?
Flame-Ram: I want to go too, so I can force myself on her.
Narrator: No.
FR: Meanie.
[sorry to leave you chaps mouldering in the dungeons so long. you're being tortred, of course, but yr plot

armour protects you from the worst of it. periodically, demon-blekh descends from above and is

munched by vermin. there's also sentient mould.]
myranda (in qyburn's head): "I love you, daddy."*scenes of child-Myr frolicking w/ dogs, playing torture

w/ dolls, etc. tear runs down Qyb's cheek*

BR: Of all the charming ironies, being stuck in a dungeon must be one of the least charming, dear

brother." [i'm afraid this ends w/ one saying, "I didn't think you ... loved me!" Gods, am I mushy lately or

what? ugh.]

Weyrde to TJ: "Gooey gooey, rich and chewy, eat yummy playdo!" translation: "At least knock off the

anti-Crannog racism. It's not their fault they sleep w/ alligators. The count forced them to!"

FR enters and approaches PervyMountChap and says: "How'd you like to be Reek III?" Oh noes!

TJ: In the streets of Highgarden Proper, Lord Paramount gave his speech to the soldiers of the Dornish-

Reachman coalition.
“I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best

arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our

Mander and Greenblood homes, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if

necessary for years, if necessary alone.
At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do. That is the resolve of the Dornish and the Reachmen-

every man of them. That is the will of the senate and the nation.
The Reachland Kingdom and the Dornish Principality, linked together in their cause and in their need,

will defend to the death their native soil, aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their

Even though large tracts of Westeros and many old and famous Houses have fallen or may fall into the

grip of the Count and all the odious apparatus of Westernazi rule, we shall not flag or fail.
We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in The Crownlands,
we shall fight on the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our lands,

whatever the cost may be,
we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, the Reach or a large part of it

were subjugated and starving, then our brave men and women, armed and guarded by the Reachland Army

and the Arbor Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in The Gods' good time, the people, with all their

power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the Realm.”
Mace Tyrell's speech was met with roaring applause, as soldiers from all across Dorne and The Reach

listened with agreement.
After he stepped away from a podium, one of his aides walked up to him with news.
Aide: "Lord Tyrell; we have good news. Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand have successfully hijacked a train

carrying Dornish prisoners to the Tumbleton Death Camp. They have just returned with these 35,000

refugees, all of whom were almost sent to their certain doom."
Mace was happy.
Mace Tyrell: "This is good news."
Aide: "It does not end there M'lord. Randyll Tarly has recently won the Battle of Ashford, and is now

planning an amphibious assault on the island of Tarth. If he takes the island, he will have a direct sea route

with which to blockade Kings Landing and cut off it's connections with The Iron Bank."
Mace Tyrell: "We can only hope. Now tell me, has the efforts to rescue my grandson's father made any

Aide: "No M'lord. We can only hope he survives long enough."


Meanwhile in Castle Cruel's Dungeon ...
Once Bittersteel ran out of curse words, he calmed down and turned himself around so he didn't have to

look at his half-brother.
TimJames98 continued to have delerious conversations with the maybe-mirage Weyrde.
Me: "The only way I'll drop my view on Crannogmen is if one of them plays a role in my escape/victory,

causing me to re-evaluate everything I know about race."
However, Bran had it the hardest of all. For while he had a Mentor Voice in his head, Flame-Ramsay

would sometimes pop in to taunt him.
Flame-Ramsay: "How'd you like to be Reek III?"
Bran had in his head two voices, each offering a course of action.
Gregor's Voice: "Grab his throat and sqeeze it until his eyes turn to gogurt! Then hunt down and rape his

Mentor's Voice: "Pay no head to Gregor Clegane. Answering with physical force will only make the

situation of your fellow prisoners worse. Respond with words, but temper your wrath with wisdom."
In the end the stronger voice won out.
Bran: "Ramsay Snow, you are a bastard. You're parents did not want you. And don't take this the wrong way,

but you have an ugly soul and you are going to die alone."
Ramsay was clearly crushed by this, letting his ball-cutting knife fall into the cess below.
Ramsay: "Oh yeah! Well ... I'm gonna rape your sister!!!"
With that, Ramsay ran away crying. Bran thought up a warning to Sansa, knowing she was reading his

thoughts with her Greenseeress powers.
It's not safe where you are. Make your way to Highgarden!

[commercial break]
On the screen a cartoon girl with honey-golden hair was fleeing from a Black Dragon that was burning all

in it's path.
Maiden Fair: "Can anything stop this dragon?"
As she ran, she tried taking shelter in a town made of straw and wooden houses. But before she could

reach it, the dragon burned it to the ground.
"Over here! Over here!"
The Maiden turned around, and saw a grizzly bear calling to her from a house made of bricks. Each of the

bricks had the words BUY WAR BONDS bolded on their sides.
Bear: "These bricks will protect us from the nasty count!"
The Maiden ran inside and closed the door behind her. When the dragon tried burning the brick house, his

fire was useless against it. The flames could not even chip the paint.
Bear: "These bricks don't just protect us from; they'll make that evil count go away!"
The Bear and The Maiden Fair ran to a catapult which was loaded with these War Bond Bricks. The bear

pulled the string, and the ball of bricks hit the dragon in the head and killed it! More blood exploded out

of the dragon's head than would be appropriate for a children's cartoon.
Maiden Fair: "We're not afraid of the Big Bad Count, The Big Bad Count, The Big Bad Count! We're not

afraid of the Big Bad Count, he can go to hell!"
Background music: Da Dum!
Big Bold words appeared on the screen.
... and The Count will be out of luck.
[end commercial]

CB: [I messed up BR's words in my last update. They should have read: "Of all the charming irnies, being

stuck in a dungeon WITH YOU is one of the least charming, dear brother."

Did I mention the man-eatng plants in the garden? Well, obviously the prisoners can't see that anyway.

And I also have to add mournful inscriptions in the dungeon, written in the prisoners' own blood (stolen


"1.Here a captive heart busted. 2. Here a poor prisoner, mourning the way wherein the Winterfell plot was

mangled, fretted his sorrowful life. 3. Here a lonely heart broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after

thirty-seven years of watching the Sand Snakes. 4. Here, homeless and friendless, after thirty-seven years

of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, natural son of Aegon IV."

During the bit where Qyb sees happy scenes from Myr's childhood, a sappy pop song plays. It segues

directly to a Countibank commercial, b/c nothing says "evil financialinstitution" like adorable children.

Weyrde tells TJ, "Sami (European people)" which means "Unless thou repents of thy racism, thou art no

better than the Westerazis, and thee shallst rot in this dungeon for eternity!"

During a lull in the fighting between BR and BS, Ser Glendon says to the latter, "I'm Ser Glendon Ball,

Fireball's son. My father also praised you as a model of chivalry and heroism. This is my friend, Ser

Duncan the Tall."

"At least I think I am," says the friend. "There are weird gaps in my memory. I only remember a dozen or

so days of my life."

"That's because he's the real Count Balerion, enchanted by Count Badguy so the latter could usurp his

title. What a jerk," says the narrator to himselves.

[more BR-BS sparring, then]

Baelor Breakspear said, "We should lay aside our quarrels, my friends. Are we not all in the same boat?"

Then Aerion Brightflame turned up and tortured them. Then Deadly, Roose, Walder, and Zombie-Joffrey

tortured people. Gotta have that torture-porn! Then a guy in one of the monster costumes from Star Trek:

The Original Series turned up and said "Rarr." "Eek," said Ser Nameless Mook. Then Ramsay returned,

after having taken counselling t get over the angst caused by Brantain's psychostuff. The counsellor said,

"Just feel good about yourself. You rule, you rock, you are great." So FR threatens to, as he puts it, "turn

Branny-Wanny into a girl!" The flaying weapon descends in slow motion towards a certain portion of

Brantain's anatomy! No! No!!! NO!!!!!!!! But then FR's beeper goes off.

And who should appear but Count Badguy himself! It was only a projected image speaking with his voice;

but still, 78 prisoners dropped dead of fright.

"You disapointed me," he said to TJ. "You started so well. You could have been the greatest of my minions,

as you didn't let paltry ethics get in the way of power and knowledge. But thenyou changed. Blind fool!

You drew back from the ultimate repudiation of mawkish moralism, you began using power to serve

others, while I realized that the meaning of the universe is naught but my bloated ego, devouring all. For

mine is a high and lonely destiny."

[after their conversation, Count summons Ramsay, Aerion, etc., to meeting of top staff on an Alms

Reform Law to end alms as we know it.]

And in the meantime, a delivery of all of GRRM books arrives. Uh-oh. Will the Count's plan to cast these

books into the pits of the Seven Hells succeed?


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Chapter 9. In the soup

Meanwhile, an army of 6 trillion annd 14.7 demon-Others advances upon Highgarden! You'd better run!

"Where do you get these numbers FROM?! Your nether regions?" said a Ranter-Raver.

"Shut up!" said the showrunners.
Jojen Reed joins the crowd communicating psychically with Darth Sansa. "Help us. The resistance think

we're scum because TJ told them so. The Count has enslaved all our kindred, and we are on the run from

both sides. Were it not for us, your brother would be a cripple in Children's Hospital, and you don't want

to know what Westerosi hospitals are like."

In his mind, Bran recieved a message from Darth Sansa.
Darth Sansa: "My friends and I snuck past The Flame Men, we made it to Highgarden. It's even less safe

there. There are literally as many Others outside the castle walls than there are cockroaches in the world."
Mountain!Bran: "Those foolish showrunners! Don't they realize that the more hopelessly the heroes are

outnumbered, the greater their chance of victory? Law of Conservation of Badass."
Darth Sansa: "We can get help, but they're Crannogmen. You need to teach TimJames98 tolerance."
Mountain!Bran: "Can you give me an easier task? Like teaching reforming Ramsay Bastard?"
Darth Sansa: "Bbbbbbbbrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaannnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!"
Mountain!Bran: "Alright alright! I'll try to make TimJames98 tolerant. Or at least downgrade his overt

racism to thinly-veiled racism."
Ending his brain conversation with Darth Sansa, Mountain!Bran turned to talk to me. He had to shake me

out of my delerium.
Mountain!Bran: "Tim! Tim! TimJames98!"
Me: "Qyburn isn't holding up well. The thought of seeing his daughter again is all that's keeping him

Qyburn: "Hush little darling don't say a word, Papa's gonna find you a Mocking Bird. And if That Mock

Bird embezzles and schemes, Papa's gonna make that Mockingbird scream ..."
Mountain!Bran: "Actually, I was asking about you. I think you should give Crannogmen another chance."
Me: "Why? Those Alligator-Fuckers are only good for lawn work!"
Mountain!Bran: "A Crannogman saved my life. I was in The Children's Hospital of Barrowton, and Jojen

and Meera helped me Warg into Gregor Clegane's body."
Me: "I thought you did that on your own?"
Mountain!Bran: "Nope, a Crannogman did it."
Me: " ... ... ... This ... this changes everything ... I need ... I need to ... think ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."
So I sat, pondering (and questioning) my entire view on race and ethnicity.
Me: "Weyrde, I need to rethink everything I know about race. I'll tell you when I've chilled out."

CB [in my last post, read Qyb for yb and in Ser Glendon's speech, always for also.]

Weyrde: "Qewl. I'll be back after my lunch break. I don't actually eat, but I have to fake it or my boss will

guess my powers and feel like I'm threatening their job." That's what she meant. What she said was

"Buggaboo H.R. Puffenstuff louse-brained catalept."
[while she's gone, that other dungeon stuff in my last post happens. Ramsay and Count stuff. Sorry

narration is choppy anc confused; I do this during breaks.]

Stnnis is holed up w/ the Sansa team and the Tyrells at Highgarden.
Stannis: "Our situation is hopeless. We must burn an adorable child and break the Internet. That adorable

girl you brought with you will do niceky."

Wylla: "You're stupid."

Jojen wargs a billion Others and has them jump off a cliff to their dooms. Of course that still leaves

severalbillion; but it's a start. Then some Children of the Forest, seeing that they need to make common

cause w/ humanity against Evil, throw fireballs and kill another 567 million and 38.
"The plot's too complicated and there are too many characters," said the showrunners. "We're going to

start killing people off, starting w/ TJ."

"WHAT?????!!!!!!!" said the narrator. "You have GOT to be kidding!!! He's the MAIN CHARACTER!!!!!"

"eXACTLY!" said the showrunners. "It's SHOCKING! It shows that Anyone Can Die!"

"NO BLOODY EXPLETIVE DELETED WAY!!!!!!!" said the narrator.


And an epic battle rages in the studio....!

Meanwhile, 23 vigintillion annd 243 grey demon sheep pursue Arya Stark and (one of the?) Lady B(s?)!

OMG the fugitives are stumbling and panting for breath! OMG they're surrounded the shep are baring

their fangs and ... WHOOPS! ePISODE'S OVER! Next wek is a holiday, so we have to wait 2 weeks!!!


[more later, prob'ly]

4 1/2 hours of Batfinger doing ssexposition in a brothel follow.
excerpt from Count's diary:
Changed name of 7 Kingdoms, which I think is totally lame. New name is the God-dom of Greater

Countlands. Also changed names of idnividual "kingdoms" (now called slavedoms) to Northmark,

Valemark, Rivermark, Reachmark, Westmark, Glorious Epicentre of Greater Countland (formerly

Countlands), Stormmark. Dorne no longer counts as a kingdom or even slavedom; it's now considered an

uninhabited waste, as it will be soon enough.

Have also invented postmodern literary theory and force innocent children to read about it in school.

But where and oh where is Lady B's heart? I'm famished!

Can't wait to get revenge on being!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TB: In response to the suggestion, Margaery backhanded Stannis.
Margaery: Why would you suggest that?"
Stannis: "I don't know what came over me."
Mace: "Oh God, the Showrunners are trying to derail us ..."
Brienne: "If I'm gonna die, it will be as myself!!!" *takes out sword*
Stannis: "No, suicide is not the answer."
Brienne: "Ok." *puts sword down*
Meanwhile, in the the studio ...
There was intense screaming as The Narrator and The Showrunners shot at each other with M-16s. Interns

ran away and cowered in the corner, the watering tank was leaking, and the CGI team retreated to their

panic room.
In The Count's Dungeon
Me: "What a fool I've been ... Crannogmen ARE people!? Who woulda thought?"
While TimJames98 had an epiphany, Mountain!Bran was getting pumped up by a speech from his Mentor

Mountain!Bran: "Tim, I have a plan to escape here."
Me: "Escape? But that will require intense fighting scenes and egregious bloodshed."
Mountain!Bran: "But we must push onwards!"
Me: "Ok, I'm in if you are. What of the rest of you?!?"
Not-Dunk: "I shall join thee on thou's quest."
Ser Geldon Ball: "I have the balls to join in this fight."
Baelor Breakspear: "I'm up for a fight."
Bloodraven: "Ah damn it; I'm in too."
But after he slipped out of his chains (the chains are easy to slip out of as Count Badguy refuses to feed

us), Bittersteel approached him with a menacing and murderous look.
Bittersteel: "I am going to do something to you that I should have done a looong time ago. Something

Oswhite suggested to me."
Bloodraven: "And what, exactly, is that?"
Bittersteel: *pulls Bloodraven in for a hug* "I am going to forgive you."

CB: Are the showrunners in the Count's pay?

Who knows? But in the dungeon ...

"Bitty, I *love* you!" says BR. "I ... I thougth fsther favoured you and I was jealous and I didn't think you

loved me and I thought the argument for Blackfyre was rubbish ...! And I ... I ... I'm sorry about the

goldfish!!!"*tears and treacly piano music* "But now I know father was worthless anyway, so who cares!"

*offers BS a beer. how he got that in the dungeon, God knows*

Unfortunately, the torture gets worse and worse and worse and WORSE!!!! [see Count's diary update,

forthcoming] *But* ...

Weyrde appeared to Not-Dunk and revealed his identity; but he didn't know how to interpret "You can trust

your car to the product with the star!"

Then Weyrde appeared to TJ and said, "Thee hath proven thouselven worthy to escapen from thissen foul

sinkhole. Touch not the flor, though! [as if they needed persuading what with the demon-blekh and

vermin]. And alack! Only one person can use this card. But thy and thou's companions hath the

resourcefulness and plotte armour to figuren out a way. Expect not an easy victory, for ye eville Count

hath powerful allies. The showrunnereth thinketh he'th cooleth." And she began to hand him a "Get out of

dungeon free card ...

But a sentient demon-mould jostles her and knocks it out of her hand!!!!

TJ reaches out to take it ... and is pinned down by a monster-rat and a demon roach! Dig the slomo of the

card falling towards the muck-filth abysm below!!!! OH, that pounnding staccato music!!!! FEEL THE





To make the suspense even worse: Arya and Lady B arrive all trussed up at the Count's kitchen/abattoir.

They witness incredibly gory food preparation aplied to human blurgh-gore. [the heroes will only turn up

to save them as they head down a conveyor belt to their unspeakably revolting doom!]
After horrible bloodshed, the showrunners agreed that TJ vcould live, on condition that the action be

moved to Pluto and feature a space-battle.

[coming up: Count's diary; across the Narrow Sea]

[there are only 4  billion and 8 vermin-demons in the dungeon, not counting sentint mould. So you chaps

should be all right.]

Count's diary: I've invented modern art and founded a museum called the Hellshorn where we show

disgusting stuff and tell people it represents an aperture to infinity and whatnot.

There is no greater joy than to cause others to fall into the abysm of despair that engulfs my being.

I've also invented reality TV. The first show is called Torture chamber, and the audience gets to vote on

which victims get the mercy of a quick death. I'm practicing it on TJ and his fellow fools. It's a riot.

I also stole TJ's necromancy book, took out the goody-goody mush-stuff, and copyrighed it as my own.

Also, following the example of Ser Myckey of House Mhouse, I declare all copyrights to be mine in


We're in Season 18and counting. As long as HBO reneweth, so long my reign lasteth.
Across the Narrow Sea:

Dany: "I have freed Essos and established a perfect utopian society here."
Tyrion: "Westeros cd use some help. There are 478 goodguys left, and googolplex badguys."
Dany: "We need a third head of the dragon. There are only 2 of us."
T: "We have a third head. It is ..."

Ospurple? TJ? Donald Trump?

You are probably a fan of Battelfilde Melodramatica; it's "the most popular show in the world", New York

Times called it "A steaming pile of ... great ... !", and The [Estonian] President once said "It is my favorite

show, so I have made national viewings compulsory".

Now we are going to show you some perspectives behind the scenes, to show how we make this magic


Nar R. Ator, the Narrator: "Working with the Showrunners has been very exciting. I have never felt such a

high of adrenaline as when discussing the direction of the storyline with them. Also, them covering the

medical bills of all their employees is a big bonus."
Sho W. Runner, one of the Showrunners: "Nar can be difficult to work with at times; discussing ideas with

him sometimes feels like a shootout. But I have a lot of respect for him and for his passion."

Showr U. Nner, one of the Showrunners: "At it's essence, Battelfilde Melodramatica is about power.

Specifically, our power to keep audiences captive by use of cliff hangers and plot twists. It also helps that

we have Memorable characters."

Richard MacKellan, actor who plays Oswhite: "Oswhite offers a lot of sage wisdom, but when the time

comes to act he's always ready to protect his companions even to his own detriment."

Emilia Clarke, actress who plays Daenerys: "Daenerys only makes brief appearences now, but in season

two she'll play a much bigger role."

Camera Guy, the Camera Guy: "My name is Derick! They made me work through Christmas in an

Aspestos covered-"

Showru N. Ner, one of the Showrunners: "A lot of fans feel we don't stay true to the books, but I have a

proverb in my family. 'Fuck The Source Material, and Fuck You Too!'. Words to live by."

quite right.

incidentally, even though the action's on pluto, the geography hasn't changed at all. except that my castle

is now under the jade sea. but that shdn't make much difference.

also, you chaps have killed about 100 million rats and roaches. that CGI was some art! roach-gore is what

it's all about!

A. Fan: yo doodz i cant take the suspends!!!!! does TJ n hiz pals git 0uta the dunjin does thay figt with

laser gunz that wud be aw3s0m!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Afa N. Girl: i l0ve teh guy wh0 playz the c0unt does he turn g00d i d0nt want him 2 git kilt that woud b00


In an act of heroism, Bloodraven wargs ALL the rodents and roaches and causes them all to jump to their

death into the cesspool. They formed a pontoon for us to cross over, but this exertion drained Bloodraven

of all his energy.
Bloodraven: "I don't want to die ... not like this ..."
Bittersteel: *cradles Bloodraven in his arms like a baby* "I'm not leaving you behind."
Bloodraven [aside]: I came into the world with nothing, and now I have quite a caravan of sin! Oh Gods ... I

have sinned irredeemably and The Gods have seen all of it! ..."
Bittersteel: "There is still time, time for you to do good things. To redeem yourself."
As Bittersteel and Bloodraven were having this emotional connection, the others were also in a swell of

Me: "There is time yet to stall the cardio devouring! To end Count Badguy's reign of terror and restore

the true Balerion's rightful seat."
Fireball: "Onward, for Glory!"
ArchMaester Qyburn: "For Science!!!"
Breakspear: "Fire and Blood!"
At the forefront was Mountain!Bran, who's conviction was now of Iron.
Bran [aside soliloquy]: Ever since my transfer into this Paragon Body, I have indulged in sexual pleasures

and combat thrills and also I was starting to drink a bit. I realize now that it was because I was previously

dead and crippled in a shell, and that now that I could walk and run again I wanted to feel as alive as

possible and sought to do so in the simplest ways possible. I see the error of my ways, and realize that

being a Knight is about living for others. I vow that if I get out of this I shall live for others."
Mentor Voice: "You have spoken true Brandon son of Eddard, now fulfill your destiny. Arise Ser Bran,

The Sword of Winter!"
Bran realized that Dawn, the sword he took from Arthur Dayne after killing him in the trial-by-combat,

was strapped at his hide the whole time. Count Badguy's henchmen never confiscated it, and Bran always

assumed they did. As House Dayne went extinct with Arthur's death (Ned Dayne is actually a bastard of

House Wyl, and Darkstar was actually a whelp found abandoned on the side of the road and brought in by

Lord Dayne), Bran can wield their ancestrally blade without guilt.
Ser Bran: *wielding Dawn and speaking with a booming voice* "Winter is Coming!!!"
So it is that they cut down all the guards from the dungeon to the confiscated weapons bin located

conveniently in the same hallway. Reequipping their arms and armor, The Heroic Fellowship made a route

for Count Balerion's throneroom. And cursed be the one who stands between them.


BR and BS were bathed in an ethereal light, while a sappy chorus went

"Ye challenge before us is naught less than to chart a course outen helle!" said Non-Dunk Real-Count.

innediately, Melisandre accosted the Heroic Fellowship and said: "Not-Dunk, you are really the actual

Count Balerion. You were enchanted by Count Badguy."

ND: "I knowest. Weyrde told me and TJ usedeth his leet translation skills."
Mel: "TJ, you find me a turn-on because I'm naked and have a sultry exotic accent."
ND: "Art thou on yon Badguyeth side?"
Mel: "No, but the showrunners told me to do some gratuitous nudity and sex stuff while LB  gets

prepared in the kitchen. They're alternating between here and the kitchen to jack up the suspense. As i was

saying: TJ, thou lustest after me."

Deadly: "Omnipotence, did I not counsel that the non-integrated human resources (NIHRs, the term used

in Weternazi ideology to describe any opponent of CB) be placed in solitary confinement?"

CB: "Are you my consellor or my slave? I wanted them to watch each other being tortured. Now send

Roose Bolton and his army of vampire leeches after them." [roose has a ring of power]

[here's the order of difficulty for badguys:
CB: will take several epic battles, i fear. 1st, LB needs to be saved, then he needs to be overthrown, then

his attempt to destry the world has to be thwarted at least once. somewhere in there his plot to destroy

GRRM's books by dumping in the abysm of hell has to be stopped, pref'bly at the last minute. may need

oz-man's help.

FR: prob'ly only 1-2 epic battles; but almost invincible b/c show guys think he's kewl, so he's next in


other named badguys: 3rd in difficulty. they have rings of power. this includes sand snakes, who don't have

rings but are showrunners' faves.

19 Good Men: since they don't have names or personalities, they can't be TOO hard; but OTOH they do

have hellfire.

other nameless mooks: a million isn't too hard, but a billion is a little harder. a billion mooks = 19 GM =

1 named badguy = .75 FR= .15 CB.]

LB: Someone is in trouble.  Someone seems to have made up to and made off with my muse.  Two days

into NaNo and I have fewer than 300 words.  This is unacceptable, people!
I. Want. My. Muse. Back.  Hand her over, and I promise to let you escape with your lives.

TJ: As attractive as Melisandre was, I knew if I slept with her I would never be able to look Mya Stone in

the eyes again. Her blue, radiant eyes.
Me: "I will not betray my betrothed!"
With that, I grab Bloodraven's bow and arrow. I string it and shoot it directly at Melisandre, hitting her in

the heart.
Mel: "I am lungshot! I do not fear my death, for I will be with R'hllor. Oh Lord of Light, take me into your

fiery embrace ... Oh No, this can't be! It's The Great Other! I SEE THE GREAT OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: "R'hllorism isn't a religion, it's a pyramid scheme! If it was legitimate, why would new members need

to pay a subscription fee?! Bran, do The Old Gods demand a subscription fee?"
Mountain!Bran: "No, any and all donations are mandatory."
Me: "Sorry Mel, but come back when The Red Faith no longer requires human sacrifice or slavery."
We left Melisandre behind in the armory, neglecting to check if she was dead or to finish her off. Surely

this can only mean she is dead.
With Melisandre dying a hard death on the ground, I hand Bloodraven his weapon again and push forward.
We get to the Slytherin room, and Mountain!Bran uses his sword Dawn to block all the spells they shoot

at us. We slaughter them to a man, but as they attacked first it was technically self-defense and therefore

we still looked heroic in the eyes of the narrative.
Sword of Winter: "This is my destiny!"
Once that room was done with, we charged towards the kitchen. We could hear two Ramsay's arguing in

Ramsay Gordon: "Look at your cooking, it's bland."
Ramsay Snow: "Blood sausage is my specialty. Perhaps your pallet is just sucky."
Ramsay Gordon: "I'm from bloody Britian, a bloody culinary graveyard. So you know you should be

worried when I tell you your food is bloody bland!"
Ramsay Snow: "So I need a few spices-"
Ramsay Gordon: I don't think you get it, do you!?! Your blood saushage tastes like a Reaver's Ass."
Ramsay Snow: "Reek is an aquired taste-"
Ramsay Gordon: "IT'S BLOODY RAW AND BLOODY BLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

CB: More later. But it seems that Count Badguy stole her muse on top of everything else!!!!!???!!

When she gets out of that kitchen. she's going to be one angry undead being. If she isn't already. For the

badguys' sake, I hope they didn't put any paprika on her.

More melodrama coming up!

Unfortunately, Mel has now become an undead spirit of dread. she now hates both sides and is determined

to destroy as many of each as posible. "We Rh'lorists are the ones who are trying to get rid of slavery!!!

Of all the cheek!"
As the HF stod there, they slipped on the ooze-blood and their feet were nibbled by sentient slime.

Demons reached from under the floor and began dragging them down to Hell. "DESPAIR AND DIE!!!!!!"

said a voice that reverberated within the depths of their being. A miasma of horror defecated upon their

heads, and the ectoplasm of the damned blekhed upon them. A ghoul tapped TJ on the shoulder and said,

"Hey, bud! Got a light?" "This is so terrifying it has destroyed my soul!" said an audience member. The

sense of despair waas so extreme that Ser Random Rando had already committed suicide, screaming "I

AM DAMNED!!!!!!!!" before Baelor could say "Heed not the despair that engulfs your being. It is one of

Count Badguy's enchantments."

Meanwhile, the kitchen itself was full of living gore that screamed aloud in torment. For Count badguy's

magic made it so that the human nutritional and gustatory resources (HNGRs) experienced every moment

of their food preparation processing as though they were alive. Nothing, after all, adds spice to a meal

quite like a tormented soul.

just then, the 2 Ramsays noticed the HF and stopped their quarrel at once. Actually, 2 million. There were

2 million cooks and they were all named Ramsay; it was a popular name among evil beings. In addition,

the kitchen was guarded by giant demon-tapeworms.

"HOT DOG, GRUB!" said Ramsay. All of him.

And at that moment, Roose had arrived with his army of a billion vampire-leeches. Oh, and giant ticks

leapt upon them and gorged upon their blood and destroyed their souls. "AWESOME CGI!" said an

audience member.

"What do you mean, destroyed our souls????!!!" said the HF.

"Just go with the flow," said Narr. "It's hyperbole, OK?"

"I'm not afraid of this scurvy rabble," said Ser Glendon. I hope he's not wearing a red shirt.

TJ: Seeing so many Ramsay's in the room would have shocked the others, had not Bloodraven revealed

the illusion.
Bloodraven: "There arn't 2 million: it's just a spell that makes it look like there are. See?"
He waved his arms, and the spell was lifted. It was just Ramsay Snow and Chef Gordon in the room now.
Flame-Ramsay: *picking up meat cleaver* "After I'm done with you, I'll show Myranda what happens to

Mountain!Bran wanted to strangle the monster there and then, but his Mentor Voice told him to temper

his anger. So Bran decided to stay calm and make Ramsay lose his cool instead.
Mountain!Bran: *pissed off* "You're just jealous because I showed her what a real man looks like. I bet

you cut dicks off 'cause yours is too small!"
Qyburn: "Bran is 10 times the son-in-law you'll ever be. Plus he's trueborn."
Flame-Ramsay: *frothing with rage* "I'LL KILL [email protected]$#^$%*%#*&%$^%$(%$&(^$(&^ YOU!"
And so, an epic battle began.


Although there were only 2 Ramsays in the room (3, counting FR), they had been enchanted so that when

one was killed, he would immediately split in two, like the brooms in The sorcerer's Apprentice. Also, by

now Roose and his leech-army were coming in from behind. In addition, there were several million

demon-tapeworms and demon-leeches and demon-this and demon that, all made of state-of-the-art CGI.

"Whence did Falme-Ramsay comen from?" wondered Real-Count.

"I ad-libbed myself," said FR. "And I'll ad lib 19 Good Men as soon as Narr gives me the OK."

"Why do we always get into these messes?" said Ser Nameless Mook. And he at any rate *was* wearing a

red shirt.

Weyrde appeared to TJ and said, "Tutti frutti enrutti bibbity bobbity boo," which meant, "Thou gottest

thyself bad karma when thou shot that unarmed nude female, even if she was annoying. Thou couldst have

just shoved past her, thou know. That limits my ability to protect thee from Melisandre's wrath (or "wroth"

as GRRM would say) until thou performest an act of stunning self-sacrifice and heroism."

Then things started getting hot, as Mel's unquiet spirit  tossed all the members of the HF into cauldrons

and mixers (this same fate also befell several anonymous demon-thingies; don't miss the scene where the

giant tapeworm-leech demon named Trolly falls into a juice-pumping amchine!). Some fell into burger

machines and were besprinkled with lettuce and cheese and ketchup as the meat tenderizer descended

upon them; others landed in ragù or Thai peanut sauce or sweet and sour sauce; others in a ghoulash

cauldron or a human chow mein cauldron; others on a grill where cheese was spread upon them. Real-

Count was particularly unfortunate. "Why doth I hast to fall in cottage cheese?" he said, gagging. Sentient

bran muffins began to jeer at them, while LB and Arya sped upon the conveyor-belt towards their

heartless doom! Arya cut her way out of her bonds with Needle, but was immediately tied up in

unbreakable bonds by an enormous bran muffin-tapeworm-demon-thing. "Someone rescue us, stupid,"

said Arya. "Give me back my muse!" probably said LB. They could at least have given her a pain reliever.

Especially since all the human body parts blukhing about and screaming in torments are enough to make a

stomach of iron retch.

"When I get out of here, I'm challenging the narrator to single combat!" said Ser Glendon.

"Oh, come off it! Like you can't climb out and use your plot armour!" said the narrator.

"I don't HAVE any plot armour!" said Ser nameless. "HELP!!! Every time I try to climb out, one of

Roose's leeches shoves me back in! And I hate Chinese! And here comes the eggbeater!"

"Use your tourney lances," said Baelor.

"Let me see; who to cook first?" sneered FR. "Oh, Branny-wanny will do nicely!"

"You shouldn't use level "fry" quite so often, Flame-Ram," said Roose. " it'll give the count a heart-attack.

Free-range in a wood stove with healthful spices is better; personally, i'm for organic all the way."

Meanwhile, at Highgarden, Sam Tarly turns up and kills a million Others. He is very macho and bro, "Ya

sorry you were a jerk now?" he asks his father.

"No," says Randyll. "Shut up."
Mya Stone sneaks through enemy lines out of the Vale in search of her man, and then is suddenly pursued

by giant demon-lobsters.
A subset of gators are starting to go off evil. Bats are involved in a bloody (and bloodsucking) civil war.

Luckily, BR wargs one of the smaller demon-things and jams the conveyor-belt, buying some time. But

how long can he hold it back? At least now it's only moving at 1 metre per second, not 20 as it was

before.It's a long conveyor-belt and has several cute and cuddly kittens and bunny-rabbits as well as

humans. I forgot to mention that Shireen is on there, too with her onion knight doll.

Real Count then did his first heroic deed in this story.  He began grabbing cottage cheese and hurling it at

the leeches, tapeworms, bran muffins, and other assorted things, until they began to gag and retch.

"Waste of good cottage cheese", said Roose, pelting RC with eggs.  

[there's one post i don't have: the Mya update. I think I have it on another computer.]

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Found it!

Running for her life through the southern coast of The Vale, Mya Stone struggled to keep out of The Lobster's Hands. However, the lightning flashing above seemed to call to her. 
Mya: "It beckons to me."
Mya ran towards a golfing field, grabbed a metal club, and threw it at the Lobster. The Lobster grabbed it, not knowing to let go.
Mya: "Who want's Steamed Lobster!?"
A bolt of lightning struck the golf club, electrocuting the Lobster and killing it. Large wafts of steam misted up from it, and it occured to Mya Stone that this could use butter. 
Mya: "It's to bad my fieancee isn't here; he usually carries a stick of butter in his pocket."
With that, she fainted. 
Targaryens have Dragon Dreams and Northmen have Green Dreams, but Durridon's have what are called Brain Storms.
In Mya's Brain Storm, she was on the cliffs of Storm's End. The large grey stormclouds in the sky formed into the shape of a bearded man who once threw her in the air and caught her. 
Mya: " ... Father?"
CloudRobert: "It is me. I am so proud to have seen what you have become."
Mya: "Why didn't you love me?"

CloudRobert: *looks hurt* "I have always loved you."
Mya: "Not enough to raise me."
CloudRobert: "I know I could not always be there for you, and for that I am sorry, but I love you none the less."
Mya: "Why couldn't you be there with me."
CloudRobert: "Someone threatened to murder you if I did."
Mya: "Oh."
CloudRobert: "I have more than words and winds, I have proof of my love for you." *holds out valyrian steel hilt with a blade made of lightning* "The Storm Sword, House Durridon's ancestral weapon. I want you to wield it."
When Mya woke up, she found the valyrian steel hilt in her hands and wondered how it got there. 
Mya: "Useless piece of- Woah!!!"
As she was swinging it in frustration, she shot s bolt of lightning at the water nearby, evaporating a patch of it. 
Mya: "This will make rescuing hubby a lot easier. Then maybe now he'll put a ring on it."

[Now I think we're caught up.]

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At Highgarden, Samwell arriving with guns a-blazing gave everyone a shock.

Randyll: "You should be at The Wall? I'll kill you for deserting The Night's Watch."

Samwell: "What Night's Watch? Jon Snow joined The Wildlings, Count Balerion Nationalized the order, and Janos is turning it into a money laundering scheme. The Night's Watch is pretty much done with. 

Randyll: "Well, I'm still not impressed."

Dickon: "Well I am! Samwell, I'm so happy you decided to come back. You have no idea how sad I was when father told me you went to The Wall on your own free will. I hereby step aside so you can inherit Horn Hill and Heartsbane when father dies."

Randyll: *frothing with rage*

Meanwhile, Wildling King Jon Snow and his wife Ygritte Snow just crawled through sixty miles of raw sewage from the dungeons of Winterfell all the way to White Harbor. Miraculously, they emerged clean on the other side. 

King Jon Snow: "And now my Watch has ended."

Ygritte: "So where to next."

King Jon Snow: "......" *shrugs shoulders*

Ygritte: "You know nothing."

King Jon Snow: *nods*

At that moment, a whirl of smoke erupted. When it cleared, Darth Sansa was standing before them. 

King Jon Snow: "Sansa! I haven't seen you in 1-3 years. What have you been up to?"

Darth Sansa: "You know; magic, greenseeress activities, Theon and I have a thing going on. Oh, I also started a political satire show with the help of Duncan and Tanselee. How about you?"

King Jon Snow: "Well, I deserted from The Night's Watch, got elected King of The Free Folk, recently escaped Bolton Imprisonment, married Ygritte, she gave birth to a child that is supposedly mine-"

Ygritte: "I didn't sleep with Maester Aemon! How many times must I tell you this!"

King Jon Snow: "Why does the baby have purple eyes?"

Darth Sansa: *examines the baby* "Those eyes are Stark Grey. I think you're colorblind."

King Jon Snow: "I am not! Next you'll be telling me your hair isn't the color of the sea."

Darth Sansa: "My hair is red."

King Jon Snow: "Exact;y. Like the sea." 

Darth Sansa: *rolls her eyes*

King Jon Snow: "Now help me defeat The Great Other so all these Trillians of Others turn back into inanimate snowmen."

Darth Sansa: "Ok."

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This is a Frankenstein amalgamation of rotting limbs and carcasses that you two tore from me before, CB and TJ. That it was purged in holy fire of the updates was an act of mercy by the gods, but you waited for the lightning to strike with a CRACK so that you may breath an unnatural life into this body. Well mark my words, this creation turned against me as it shall turn against you. It has a life of its own that shall see you undone.


(P.s. This was the format that we origionally followed before two guys started to yammer on about some story they made up.)

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This is a Frankenstein amalgamation of rotting limbs and carcasses that you two tore from me before, CB and TJ. That it was purged in holy fire of the updates was an act of mercy by the gods, but you waited for the lightning to strike with a CRACK so that you may breath an unnatural life into this body. Well mark my words, this creation turned against me as it shall turn against you. It has a life of its own that shall see you undone.


(P.s. This was the format that we origionally followed before two guys started to yammer on about some story they made up.)

thy soul is the used laundrey detergent of the goat, and thou shouldst be grateful that we turned thy thread into the greatest literary work produced in the history of the universe.

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And what is CB up to meanwhile?

"You are mine, Yara. I will sate my lust upon thee."

Showrunners: "This is gonna be shocking!"

Asha: "Who's Yara? I'm Asha."

Count: "Bother."

(Asha escapes through a plothole.)  Count: "Oh well, at least there's dinner."

Or *is* there?

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This is a Frankenstein amalgamation of rotting limbs and carcasses that you two tore from me before, CB and TJ. That it was purged in holy fire of the updates was an act of mercy by the gods, but you waited for the lightning to strike with a CRACK so that you may breath an unnatural life into this body. Well mark my words, this creation turned against me as it shall turn against you. It has a life of its own that shall see you undone.


(P.s. This was the format that we origionally followed before two guys started to yammer on about some story they made up.)

The instructions you gave us originally were explicit; anything was allowed so long as it was hammy. 

Now, have you EVER seen anything so hammy and melodramatic as this story Count Balerion and I have unleashed upon the world?!? Truly the Heavens themselves roar upon our mellow drama!!!

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In the Kitchen of Nightmares, Timjames98 has trouble understanding why killing Melisandre gave him bad karma. 

Me: "But Weyrde, I was doing a good thing. She was trying to tempt me, so by killing her I stayed true to my betrothed; ergo I'm a hero."

However, the brillient necromancer Timjames98 knew there was no arguing with that voice inside his head that nobody else could see or hear.

Me: "Ugh fine. I'll do a heroic sacrifice to get my companions out of a sticky situation."

Hearing this, the other members of The Heroic Fellowship are so shocked that they don't even notice that I was adressing this to an imagionary morality pet.

MountianBran: "But Timjames98, we need you."

Me: "Yes. You need me to sacrifice myself for the good of us all."

With that, Timjames 98 stretches his arms out and starts running. With his left arm he grabs Ramsay, with his right he grabs Count Balerion, and with his feet he runs with both of them. He runs all the way across the kitchen, all the way to the Portal to The Seven Hells that sits in the corner (where do you think CB gets all his demonic groceries?).

We all fall in, falling down seven stories to the bottom. Grabbing an RPG that was inexplictly hanging around, I fired it at the entrance. It caved in, trapping me here along with CB and Ramsay. 

Me: "Being good sucks!"

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"Yes, it does," said the Count affably. "You should be evil like me. It's much more fun."

"Rh'llor is pleased with your sacrifice," says Weyrde. "Or is it R'hllor. Whatwver. Anyway, that means if you don't 

find a way out of Hell I can resurrect you. The drag is that the Count comes back too. The other drag being that we 

have to do some shcoking sensationalistic scenes first. But that's not my doing, or even Ruhoohah's; it comes from 

higher up, or lwer down, depending on your point of view." Only of course she said all this in Asshai lingo, so it 

sounded like shewas talking about Mickey Mouse.

[more on Hell later.]
#[email protected]%
The TJ fans in the audience were flabbergasted. "He spent almost a whole season in the dungeon, and now they're 

telling him to go to Hell???? Doe we really need MORE torture porn?????!!!1/1/1/1/1"

"I'm not watching anymore!" sobbed a show-only n00b.

"Oh, calm down. If you'd read the books, you'd see all the clues that he *has* to resurrected in order to learn about his ancestry," said an Expert.

"Oh, I hope they don't resurrect him. They've ruined his character so much, killing him is almost a mercy," huffed a Ranter.

Then there was a long, drawn-out flamewar about whether TJ is good or bad, with many a "strawman" and "fanboy", until the mods shut it down.

Meanwhile, the Count's fans were also annoyed. "How did he get to the kitchen so fast?"

"Obviously through a secret passageway, because he was hungry. They don't have to show everything because book purists are stupid," said a showpologist.

The mods locked that one, too.
"OK, Mel; you got your sacrifice. Now lay off," said Weyrde to Melisandre.
"That's all very well," said Mel. "But I didn't get to star in a disgusting sex-scene."
Weyrde heaved a sigh. "Oh, *all right*," she said, taking off her clothes. "We'll do the lesbo-quasi-necrophiliac scene and get it over with, if it'll shut you up. Of course, it makes nonsense of my character; but hey." (this whole conversation of course was in Asshai'i and sounded like a Dr. Seuss book to the uninitiated.)

"You guys can watch for just 3 gold dragons!" said Batfinger.


"Hey, for once i agree," said Martin.

"What, we lsot the whole Stormlands storyline with Yoahn Qhooger for *this* trash????!!!!" said a Raver.

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In the Seventh Circle of The Seventh Hell, TimJames98 was miserable. The lava pit they were burning in was only ankle deep, he was pretty sure somebody had pooped in it, and worse yet he still had to look at Ramsay's ugly ugly piggy face. 

Me: "County, being good may suck but being evil sucks more. When you're evil, a handsome scholar and his faithful companions throw you into the fiery pits of The Seventh Hell."

When Weyrde mentioned that Fire Demon, I had to correct her. Even if she was my jiminy cricket/imaginary friend/very early-onset dementia symptom, I still had to clear the record.

Even though Weyrde had already left to sleep with Melisandre. Despite that being wildly uncharacteristic. 

Me: "That wasn't a sacrifice in honor of R'hllor, that was a Heroic Sacrifice to save my pals from trouble. I was trying to be heroic, to counter-balance killing an innocent woman. Ok, well not innocent, but Melisandre didn't wrong me personally. As far as I know. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that she didn't know I was engaged to Mya Stone."

Ramsay: "Who are you talking to!?!?!?!???"

Me: "Well? Ummm??? Shut up!"

Fortunately, The Lord of The Seven Hells showed up to dole out our punishments. He had the legs of a goat, horns all over his body, and a hood that hid his face behind a shadow. 

Also he played a golden fiddle.

The Stranger: "Well well well! What have we here, if not sinners ready to receive their custom tailored punishments!!!"

Ramsay: "You're not that evil."

The Stranger: " Ramsay, you were an evil rapist. You tortured people because your parents never loved you. Now, you will be put through a simulator where you experience all your crimes through the eyes of your victims. Also you will hear your parents constantly telling you they never loved you. Bastard."

Ramsay: "Wow, you put a lot of work into this."

The Stranger: "If you love your job, you'll never work a day in your afterlife."

Ramsay: *nods in agreement as demons drag him to his torture chamber*

The Stranger: "Tywin! You valued your public appearance and reputation above all else, you were a proud and insensitive man. Now, you will be the butt of every joke in The Seven Hells. Forever! Also, you have to watch videos of all the Reynes you killed enjoying their time in The Seven Heavens."

Tywin: "You shouldn't have. I don't deserve this." *smiling in appreciation for the thoughtfulness of the torment*

The Stranger: "Hay, you were an evil son of a bitch in life so you deserve everything you get. Now, TimJames98!"

I face him, waiting for my torment. 

The Stranger: "You will stab yourself in the stomach with this knife. Forever."

Me: "Doesn't feel very thoughtful. I mean, everyone else got customized torments."

The Stranger: "You're hard to find torments for!!! Here, take these 200 Gold Dragons: I know it's not thoughtful, but I'm sure you can buy a torture you like."

Me: "Don't beat yourself up too bad. I'm just happy you tried."

The Stranger: "Awwwww!"

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"Yo Stranger d00d," says the Count.  "Don't you think that's rather rude? Rammy was going to fetch me some groceries. And he's commander of my Countsguard."

"Sorry," said the Stranger.  "Expiration date was yesterday, so you'll have to wait a fortnight to get him back. Meanwhile, you can find another damned soul.  I suggest Aerys. We can give him a break from being attacked by iron chairs made out of swords."

"Why isn't the Count getting any punishments?" said someone, maybe Tywin.

"Oh, but he is," said the Stranger. "He has bad dialogue reverberating in his screaming soul. Besides, he and I have an agreement."

"Now," said the Count to TJ, "I know just the place for your torture needs.  We'll get you fitted out for an Iron Fangirl at Torturers R Us.  Then we can pick up Aerys and go for a little stroll, watching the torments of the damned and now and then raping their souls and shocking people.  And speaking of raping, there are some vlovely brothels in Hell, and the succubi are to die for.  So to speak.  When we've got some nice torture going, I'll recruit some demons and head for the nearest portal (there should still be six left, one for each Hell) and take over the world.  Now excuse me a moment, I have to phone someone." He got on  his mobile and said: "Deadly, I'm in Hell and may be a bit delayed.  You're in charge until I get back.  Public Enemy Number 1 filled in the portal in the kitchen, so have some prisoners dig it up again.  The priority, though, is to destroy GRRM's books.  Toss them down the portal in the garderobe." (The Count is too special to have a mere privy.)

So they wander a bit, stopping to watch Joff being cut open by demon cats, which causes the audience (already feeling queasy after the sex scene with Weyrde and Melisandre) to retch out its bowels.
Meanwhile, back in the Count's kitchen, things look a little less hopeless.  Of course, Lady Blizzardborn, Arya, and Shireen were still headed down the conveyor belt (rather more slowly) to a heartless doom; but Roose, Ramsay Gordon and Snow, two or three Good Men, and a million or so demon-vermin and demon parasites should be manageable, no?

But then…

Who should come in but the Sand Snakes! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!! BAD %^&^^%%$!!!!" they cackled again and again, pitilessly.

"No wonder Count Bad is evil!" screamed the goodguys unmanned, as they plugged their ears, in vain.

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Wandering through The Seventh Hell, TimJames98 came across a restaurant. Here, the customers became full to the point of sickness the moment they crossed the door, and instead of eating they just vomit up the foods that would have tasted good going down but tastes horrible coming up instead. 

Once he gets enters, he vomits so much that his throat is bloody by the end of it. Crawling to a table made of Angry Weirwood Faces That Constantly Shout Insults, he sees someone familiar already sitting at the table.

Me: "Hey! I know you! You're Cersei Lannister!"

Cersei: *looks annoyed* "Yes. Well?"

Me: "I just want to say I hate literally everything you've done."

Cersei: "Thank you, that is nice of you to say."

Me: "No, I mean I despise everything you stand for."

Cersei: Ok. Do you want a picture or-"

Me: "No, no, oh Gods no. Well ... an autograph wouldn't hurt." *pulls out scrapbook of encounters both extraordinary and mundane*

Cersei: "Ok, fine." 

In the scrapbook she signed, "Cersei Lannister. Remember, in the game of thrones you win or die."

Me: "Thank you. And I just want to say, I was truly appalled by the widespread brutality and animalistic inhuman cruelty of The Dance of The Dragons."

Cersei: " ... That. Wasn't. Me. I wasn't even born yet! You're an idout!"

Me: "No wonder you're sitting here alone."

Cersei: "If you must know, I'm waiting for my deadbeat husband. We never had a dinner together in live, and I can't think of a worse way to spend eternity."

Me: "Maybe I can call him. I have Robert Baratheon on speed-dial, what with him being my future father-in law. By the way, you did a great job raising Mya Stone."

Cersei: "That peasant bastard is not my daughter!" *slaps me*

Me: *punching in number* "Hello? Robert?"

Robert: "Where are you?"

Me: "Seventh Hell, heroic sacrifice and all. How about you?"

Robert: "I'm in the middle of nowhere. The Seven Purgatories, I think."

Me: "Do you see me? I'm the guy covered in the blood of dead jerks."

Robert: "Oh! I think I see you. I'm running to you now!"

Me: "I don't see you, but ok."

Robert: "Nevermind, it's actually Sandor Clegane. The Hound says 'hi'". 

Me: "Oh, well when I get out I'll find a way to get the two of you out of there. I need you to give Mya Stone away at the wedding. I'll pop the question when I find the Crown Jewels of Old Sarnor, as only those beautiful diamonds are worthy to sit upon Mya's finger." *hang up*

Cersei: "Let me guess, Robert's hanging with his drinking buddies again?"

Me: "Well, he and The Hound are more like coworkers. But if you want, I can give Maegar the Cruel your number when I see him."

Cersei: "Thank you! He's like Gregor Clegane was Rhaegar's burly older brother! Now to repay you-"

Me: "If you're offering sexual favors, no thank you. I'm already spoken for."

Cersei: "-I will give you the keys to a Lava Airboat. Gods, get your mind out of the gutter!"

Now with a Lava Airboat, TimJames98 can more speedily traverse the Lava Lakes in The Seven Hells. Though the fan's humming sounded like a audiobook retelling of The Twilight Saga written and voiced by The Sandsnakes. This meant TimJames98 was in bored agony. 

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The presence of the Sandsnakes was such that the conveyor belt attained sentience, ripped itself from the bolts that bound it to the floor, and tried using it's metal supports as arms to block it's hearing mechanism. Sadly, it could not find which part of it was its "ears".

It was at this point that MountainBran noticed that Arya was on the conveyor belt with Shireen and Lady Blizzardborn.

Bran: "Sister!!!"

Arya only recognized Bran by his voice; she could hardly believe he had grown 10 feet and 12 years in the short span of time they were seperated. 

Arya: "Bran?!?"

Bran: "Don't worry, I'll save you!!" 

Bran then picked up the entire conveyor belt (which Arya, Shireen, and LB were still sitting on), hoisted it upon his shoulder, and began running out of the room. 

Bittersteel: "Friends, follow him. I'll make a stand."

Bloodraven: "Brother! I will not leave you again!!!"

Bittersteel: *grabbing Bloodraven by the shoulders* "I might be able to buy us a few minutes."

Bloodraven: *grabbing Bittersteel's hand* "Then together we can double that time."

Together, they held off the Sandsnakes and the assorted evil things while their Heroic Companions left. 

Bloodraven: "Hello ladies. Have you met my brother. He's called Bittersteel because he has a big dick."

Bittersteel: "And he's called Bloodraven because he also has a big dick."

Obara Sand: "Those nicknames don't make sense." 

Nymeria Sand: "Would you like to hear our dialogue? We got thirty pages worth of it!"

Bittersteel & Bloodraven: *both cringing, answering in unison* "Sure!"

Obara Sand: "If you can listen through the whole thing we'll sleep with you."

So the two brothers, recently reconsiled, stayed behind to let the rest of The Heroic Fellowship escape. 

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