Bet you didn’t see this coming. I bet you hated me. For four seasons, I bet you rolled your eyes every time your precious television program spent any time with me, which said much of my likability (or lack thereof) when you factor in that I own a topless witch.
But good news: I’m great now. I’m probably your favorite character.
What a turnaround! I’m like the goddamned Brussels sprouts of Westeros. You spent years hating Brussels sprouts. Now the Brussels sprouts are the rightful heir to the throne and you fucking love it.
Oh God I bet you think your favorite character is Jon Snow. And why not? He’s handsome, proud, brave — everything you want in a leader. But good news! I’m the only one who believes in him. Shit, I even like his fat friend, Samwell. Nobody else calls him that. Not even his beloved Jon. “Samwell.“ Say that out loud a few times. I did in the library because you now love me and so does Samwell. Actually, it sure feels like everyone likes me. I just needed the right social environment (The Wall) to thrive.
Hell, I like everyone you like, which makes sense because I’m your favorite character now.
You know who else I like? Davos. He’s the chillest motherfucker in Westeros and the only reason I was tolerable for years. And you know who his best friend is? My polio-stricken daughter!!! I’ve got it all. Also I hug her now. It wasn’t the most natural hug, sure, but the fact that I have trouble showing my emotions only adds to my recently apparent vulnerability. You eat that shit up! Oh God I didn’t even think about it till now, but … am I the best father on this show? I mean, Eddard Stark — great man, brave man — he knew how to be a father. But his devotion to his family also got him killed. Me, on the other hand, I loved my stone daughter when everyone else would have tossed her in the rivers of Valyria, and I’m very much alive. Go ahead, can you name a better father on this show? Roose Bolton? Uncle Jaime Lannister?
Ha. That uncle part was a joke. Did you get it? I’ll wait till you get it. I also make jokes now. Like that time I corrected someone’s grammar in a dramatic moment. As your favorite character, it’s now my responsibility to provide the comic relief.
Hey, here’s something: I bet you thought I acted reaaal entitled about being the one true king for like four seasons. I bet it was pretty draining hearing me talk about that, while my topless witch with supple breasts delicately prowled in the background. But here’s the thing: Now that I’m your favorite character, you can look back with a clear mind and realize that as far as I know, I am the one true king!!! As far as I’m concerned, everything I’m doing is rational. I don’t have Grantland or Vulture recaps to inform me about the goings on about 100 other characters who I can’t remember the names of. All I’ve got is an illiterate right-hand man and a supple-breasted, topless witch with unsettlingly soft skin.
Did I mention I have a topless witch? Of course I did. Because I have one. This means that whenever you get a scene with me, you get a scene with a topless witch.
The best part is when she’s topless. Love when that happens.
I, like you, also enjoy nudity and soft breasts.