‘Game Of Thrones’ Recap, Season 6 Episode 4: Sick Burn

Hi, my name is John, and I’m recapping Game of Thrones this season, because it’s a calling, not a job.

Welcome to my fourth recap, and I have to be honest, I’m really, really good at this. Don’t get me wrong: recapping a TV show isn’t difficult. It’s a simple two-step process: 1. Watch an episode of TV. 2. Write down exactly what was on that TV show. But I really feel that I’m going to win the Pulitzer Prize for this series of critical think pieces. I kind of like to think of myself as an Emily Nussbaum-type, only without the insight, intelligence, or talent. I have a beard, she does not. She is respected for her cultural writing and I make excellent avocado toast. Those differences aside, we’re basically the same person, only I’m probably much, much sadder.

This is all my way of saying, dear reader, that this week’s recap really elevates the genre to new heights. Those other recaps? Amateur. My recaps? Art.

One other thing before we get down to business: because I write for the internet, this week’s recap will be full of SEO keywords. Ha, ha, sorry I got a little technical there and you’re a bunch of laypeople. Stupid laypeople who probably don’t understand dynamic digital media strategy stuff. SEO, pronounced “See-yo”, is derived from the Latin for “magic words.” The internet is powered by magic words. It’s very important to include these magic words in your articles, or Google does not love you, and you need the love of Google. My editor told me if this recap doesn’t get 15,000,000 hitviews, I’ll be fired and then a very, very small amount of income would disappear. So if, during the course of this recap, you see a capitalized word, just know that’s a magic word that is telling the search engines that what I have written is excellent and of the highest possible quality.

Okay! So here’s what happened on last night’s episode of “The Game Of Thrones”:

It’s was good! I enjoyed it.

There were reunions and deals were made and, spoiler alert, Ramsay Bolton does something horrible to a woman, because this series doesn’t have enough of that. The producers continue to improve on George RR Martin’s silly Bible-length saga about feudal politics, ancient evil, and JENNIFER LAWRENCE ALL NUDE PICS.

We start back at Castle Black, so named because it’s a castle. The recently resurrected Jon Snow is about to bail on the Nights Watch, the few, the miserable few, who are sworn to protect a realm of largely thankless, backstabbing assholes from the ice zombie comeuppance they so richly deserve. Jon just can’t get over hanging out with the very same people who murdered him, and I understand that, because I’ve been laid off before. But before our hero bounces, the producers give us something the viewers have wanted for years, and it made me, briefly, happy.

Through the gates of Castle Black marched Brienne of Tarth, whatshisface her toadie, and SANSA! SANSA KIM KARDASHIAN BUTT STARK! This reunion was great. Totally satisfying and earned. All I really want from this show, at this point, is for the surviving Starks and those loyal to them to form a super-team, a sword and sorcery Avengers – telepath Bran, undead hunk Jon Snow, gentle hulk Hodor, regal vengeance queen Sansa, suddenly 30 year old Rickon, and Arya, a.k.a Daredevil. It’s a simple dream, and I am a complicated man.

The next scene features more reunion love between Jon and Sansa. It’s a troubling scene because it features the first smiles from non-Ramsay Bolton characters in years. This is upsetting because you know what smiling means in Westeros. That’s right. Impalement and/or disembowelment. Anyway, Sansa is growing up into vengeful murderess nicely, and Jon Snow is being a wuss.

Up next, Brienne of Tarth tells Davos and the red witch MESOTHELIOMA LAW FIRM that it was she who killed their king Stannis. Like, she interrupts Davos, who is lightly bringing up the fact that Stannis’ sweet daughter was burned alive for no reason, to just casually inform them that she sent their beloved king to whatever hell the people of Westeros believe in, which is probably just Westeros. Then she turns on her heels and pimp walks away. I love you Brienne of Tarth. I have prepared you a meal and sharpened your sword and here I am, laying naked, on this great direbearskin rug that I’ve dragged in front of this roaring fire. Let me love you, if just for this one night. Because the night is dark and full of terrors and we should probably just make sweet love now because who knows that horrors we will face tomorrow, together. I have written myself into Game of Thrones and I am okay with that.

Oh, hey, we’re back at the Vale! Remember the Vale? The castle there is a really high tower and there’s a hole in the floor of the throneroom that people can be thrown out of. It’s called the moon door. Do you remember? It’s okay if you don’t. It doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is NBA PLAYOFFS FREE IPADS.

But surely you remember Lord Robin Arryn, the doepy mush-brained king who loved suckling on his mother’s breasts until the age of 25, that is, until she was murdered. This kid! He’s a mess. A gene pool full of oatmeal. But he sure loves his Uncle Littlefinger. We haven’t seen the Machiavellian side talker this season, and it’s a real pleasure to see him slither back into the plot. Remember that it was he who showed Robin’s mom the door… the moon door, that is *chuckles emoji*. Well, he’s back and he’s going to manipulate the emotionally-unstable king into threatening his own uncle, and marshalling an army to rescue Sansa from the Boltons. Littlefinger loves Sansa because in Westeros, what people think is love is actually creepy sexual obsession. Littlefinger gon’ little finger.

In the HOTEL DEALS Mereen, Tyrion is negotiating an imperfect peace between the former slaves and the slave masters of Slaver’s Bay on behalf of the absent Daenerys. Grey Worm and Missandei are unsure of Tyrion’s compromises, but back him nonetheless in front of the freed slaves who do not trust the maniac slave masters who have been waging a guerilla war against them. Tyrion proves himself a wise and apt diplomat and politician and that’s how you know Game of Thrones is a fantasy. Only in a make-believe adult fairy tale would a hero broker an uneasy compromise with opponents he does not trust but whose self-interests are clear in order to further a broader agenda. What total bullshit. In reality, politicians are ideologically intractable sloganeers who see compromise as weakness. ‘Game of Thrones’ can be so unbelievable sometimes. IS JAY-Z CHEATING ON BEYONCE?

Next we catch up with Daario and Jorah, or as I like to call them, Sexy Granddad and Williamsburg Cheesemonger. They hatch a plan to rescue the woman they love, Daenerys, from Dothraki Coachella. Before they do, however, Daario learns that Jorah has the leprosy-like skin disease greyscale and now I’m going to sneak a personal essay into my recap.

A week or so ago I decided to get an expensive haircut and beard trim at a fancy hipster barbershop. I don’t know why I did this. I don’t like to get my haircut because I don’t like strange fingers in my body. I think I wanted to get a new haircut because I’ve been dating someone new and I wanted to not look like unemployed Hagrid. I think this is a normal impulse, or at least, that’s what I told myself. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw that the place I was getting my haircut at was half old-timey barbershop, half record store. When I walked in, a Wes Anderson lookalike was spinning some pretty chill tunes. I am not making that up. The haircut itself was fine – my hair stylist was Scottish and he had nice breath and we talked about the BBC show The Thick Of It. Then he wrapped my face in a hot towel infused with eucalyptus oil. An hour later, I learned I was horribly allergic to eucalyptus oil, because my body was suddenly covered in candy cane red welts and hives and bubbly rashes.

I went to the ER. Brooklyn is a place where the artisanal pizzas are excellent, but the hospitals are terrible. I tried an Urgent Care first, but the nurse looked at me and winced and told me to admit myself. I mean, I did look like walking beef carpaccio. If I had been in Westeros, I would have just gone to a Maester and he would have prescribed wine and whores. But better safe than sorry, right? Wrong. There was no facial swelling, and I was breathing okay. I should have stayed home and popped Benadryl. It takes an emergency room to really take stock of where we are as a people. ERs really pull back the curtain on our civilization. Our existence is nothing but suffering and paperwork. I joked to a friend that I had grayscale via text and we laughed while the man next to me begged me to help him escape and I may have if I had had a bobby pin to pick his handcuffs. Five hours later they gave me a shot of Benadryl and I went home to my dog who I left in the dark. She cried when I walked in. A day later my greyscale was gone. But I learned some important lessons, like, avoid barbershop/vinyl store hybrids. Never, under any circumstance, let Koala fuel touch me. Our healthcare system is broken and human and scary. Having grayscale would be awful because it turns you into a mindless murder monster. I also learned PORN SEXY SEXXXY AMATEUR LESBIAN MILF HOW TO GET LAID ON TINDER.

Annnnnnd we’re back: Daario and Jorah get into a fight and kill a couple of Brothrakis and that’s problematic. The Real Housewives of the Khals have a fireside talk about feelings with Daenerys. The hashtag #BanDothrakiMen is born. Then Daenerys and another of the widows leave the knitting circle to answer nature’s call. Daario and Jorah pop up and are all “We’re here to rescue you because we’re both hopelessly in lurv with you.” And Daenerys, always the unflappable broad, is like “No, because I have a badass plan.” And she does.

Oh god, another High Sparrow scene. Did Jonathan Pryce shoot 15 scenes in his spare evil preist office in one day? Blerg. Look: Queen Margaery is reunited with her brother Loras, and it’s bittersweet. Cersei then squeezes King Tommen for information and learns that the High Sparrow is going to force Margery to do the gross walk of shame through King’s Landing. I did one of those once, but I was walking home drunk after having spent sixty dollars at a 7-11. All you need to know is that Cersei and Margaery’s grandmother are now allied and that is awesome because they are a pair of bitches with whom one does not fuck with.

The next scene reunites Theon and his sister on the island where Pirates of the Caribbean Costumes Go To Die. Theon thinks his sister should rule the Ironborn and, you know, so do I. One last thought on this scene: viking pirates don’t like crying.

So Ramsay Bolton kills Osha, the Wildling who protected Rickon. I really hated this scene. I loved Osha in the books and the actor playing her was great. What a lame way to quickly off a character. It’s like the producers were like “Do you think the viewers know Ramsey is a really bad guy who rapes and murders women?” Yes, we know. Wow, do we know. No one is thinking “I wonder if Ramsey is different from last episode, and all the episodes before?” We get it. It sucks to be a woman in Westeros, and, also, most actual real places.

The next scene is back at The Wall. Sansa bullies Jon into plotting an invasion of Winterfell, their home. He has the wildlings and “the north remembers.” Let’s do this! The only other significant moment in this scene is the wildling leader Tormund making sex eyes at Brienne while they eat. (Hands off, Tormund, she is mine!) And, yet, love is not possession. She will choose between us. Or we will have a threesome. That may make things weird at Castle Black, but the apocalypse is happening on the other side of that giant magic ice wall so why not?

The end of this episode is awesome. All the Dothraki Khals are having a sausage hang when Daenerys is brought in. They are going to decide her fate. But then the Mother of Dragons is like “I’m the boss now,” and the bros are all “ha ha no,” and then she pushes over torches and sets their entire sweat lodge on fire. She is fireproof and they are not. Oh, man, those Dothraki guys burn to death while a strong woman watches with an imperceptible smirk. It’s basically Donald Trump’s greatest nightmare. She walks naked out of the burning hut, and all the Dothraki bow before her. It’s a tasteful nude scene, though. Yes, we see the breasts of the Mother of Dragons. But these are “look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair” boobs, not “softcore aren’t you glad you subscribed to HBO” boobs. So now we have three armies in play: the Vale, Snow’s wildling/northman, and Daenerys new army of Horse Klingons. Sucks to be a Bolton, or a Lannister, or a Frosty the Death King.

Good stuff! I can’t wait until next week. So, in conclusion, EMMA WATSON SEX TAPE WHEN IS THE SUPERBOWL KANYE WEST JUSTIN BIEBER FREE VIAGRA BOOBS GAME OF THRONES GAME OF THRONES GAME OF THRONES.

[Watch Game Of Thrones on HBO Go and HBO Now]

John DeVore is a writer who lives in Brooklyn, the Paris of Long Island. Follow his undiagnosed narcissism on Twitter at @JohnDeVore.