![]() Our hero was wounded, but he saved the day. Tyrion, Joffrey, Davos Seaworth ships fighting with a castle alchemical “wildfire” shooting through the air, making ships burst into green flames. Remember that, White Walker Army? (You watch “Game of Thrones,” right?) Now that was a battle. He raises the stakes a bit, doesn’t he, this freaky Free Folk creep with the penis face? Nope: he stinks too. But what about this Mag Nuk-speaking giant who’s whacking us with a flaming log?, you wonder. ![]() So is getting stuck in traffic-you think it will never end. Can’t you hear us growling and snarling like direwolves, tigers, alligators, professional tennis players? Sure I can. Death itself! The folly of man and his little plans, something bigger than Westeros and its politics and its throne wars! We might even represent climate change-try to stop that, eh? Yes, I know. I’ll never hate you like I hated King Joffrey or Ramsay Bolton or that freaky Jocasta who got shoved through the moon door.īut we represent the very destruction of all mankind!, you protest. But I’m not interested in what you’re up to your evil doesn’t matter. I admit that you got me when you killed all those wildlings, let them lie around for a minute, and then conjured them up again, like a yoga instructor post-Namaste, while staring menacingly at poor Jon Snow as he fled in his little rowboat. ![]() You there, with the icy face and the glowing antifreeze eyes and the Billy Idol head spikes-I scoff at your whole vibe. ![]()
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