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GoT Recap, Ep. 7: Team Dragon-Wolf

 

 

fingergot

Game over

Welcome to the last Game of Thrones recap until we gather again in what seems like 20 years for the final six episodes of Season 7. Many of us may already be dead from what I assume is World War III, co-sponsored by Russia and Donald Trump’s energy drink for the American people: Orange Monster Blast! “Orange You Glad You Got Blasted Today?” Now with 10% more meth (FDA approval still pending).

Just kidding — we won’t have an FDA by then.

The hallowed Game of Thrones recaps that came before:

Episode 1: Winter AF

Episode 2: So Many Storms, Links

Episode 3: Five Queens A-Warring

Episode 4: Being A Dragon

Episode 5: East of Some Shiiiiiit

Episode 6: Expedition of Doom

As always, sexy boat spoilers ahead!

Two Philosophers Talk About Dongs

We open with the Unsullied just hanging in a field outside of King’s Landing. I suspect this is what they do even on their days off — I mean, what would they do in a Target? I also can’t believe how many there are – the Lannister army took over Highgarden with a teeny tiny fraction of this army.

“Maybe it really is all cocks in the end,” Jaime muses as he and Bronn gaze at the army of eunuchs. I think Cersei, Daenerys, Sansa, Arya, Brienne, Melisandre, and Yara would give you major side-eye for that, Jaime.

Add Dany’s battle gods to the mix, those Dothraki horselords – oh, hello, here they are in all their artfully-torn, suede-vested glory – and basically Cersei is doomed.

Bronn: I think we’re about to be the downtrodden.

Jaime: Can’t you just be supportive at these company meetings? Jesus.

The Silence and Euron’s armada are docked menacingly outside King’s Landing as Team Dragon-Wolf sail into the harbor. The Silence is so enormous and imposing and cartoonish that I feel like I’m at Disneyland, waiting for a pirate-themed water ride. The Hound goes below deck to check on Terry, our favorite undead comrade and – you guessed it – he’s feisty as ever. Perhaps it’s the box they put him in for this long ocean voyage, or his thirst for human blood, but that’s what we love about Terry: his can-do spirit in the darkest of boxes times. He also makes a mean guacamole.

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