Thousands of Game of Thrones fans had a full-blown panic attack this week when episode 7 opened with something other than the usual credit sequence. Frantically rewinding, checking they had the correct time and shaking their digital boxes, viewers suspected that something had gone horribly wrong. As it turns out, in what now seems like a completely standard move for a television show, they just played a bit of an intro first.
Ian McShane was in it this week. He’s the leader of a bunch of sack and axe motherfuckers who are pounding massive logs into the ground in the hope that it’ll resemble a chapel. They’re building it on a slight mound since they’re bound to need a vantage point for approaching pillagers and immigrants. It’s only a matter of time until their pleasant little community is found. Hmm, why do I keep using ‘ound’ words? Weird. Anyway, The Hound is back.
That’s right, in an episode where not a great deal happens (again), the highlight is Sandor Clegane not being dead. Despite still being fairly miffed about Arya leaving him to die in a pool of his own blood and piss, he seems relatively happy chopping wood. That’s until all of his newfound friends, including McShane, are brutally murdered. See you later, Lovejoy!
Now that he’s all pissed off and ready to start stoving heads in again, we can turn our attention to King’s Landing where Margaery is still acting like a mentalist. Or is she? Just when I was starting to get sick of her Ned Flanders act, she draws the Tyrell sigil on a napkin and hands it to her grandmother, a sign that she’s been playing the High Sparrow all along. I’d like to say I didn’t see it coming, but it was more in my face than her tits in season 2.
Time for a little comic relief, I think. Jump to Jaime bitch slapping a member of the Frey as he and the returning Bronn take over their siege of Blackfish’s castle. It’s one of many talky scenes in the episode that’s only saved by the fact that it reminded me of Monty Python’s Holy Grail. The Jon Snow and Sansa parts are particularly dry. Still trying to build their forces, they seek help from Lady Lyanna Mormont, a 10-year-old girl with enough clout to make Jon look like Varys the eunuch. In so many words, she tells them to fuck off.
Just as things seem to be getting a bit too heavy, we’re whisked to the land of tits. Lesbian tits. Yara and Theon are on their way to see Daenerys and have stopped off at a joyous, boob-filled establishment. It’s a distressing experience for Theon, who must feel like Abu Hamza in a glove shop. This lulled me into a false sense of security. By the time Arya was stabbed by the faceless Victoria Wood I was suitably shocked. I actually gasped, as if I’d just seen an old lady collapse at a self-checkout machine in Tesco. That’s bound to finish off an OAP, but I’m sure Arya will be fine.