So we start out on Some Beach
With Ser Jorah knocking out a random dude, leaving behind coins for a boat rental. And that’s why I never advertise anything on Craigslist.

In another ship
Jamie and Bronn talk about geography and what Dorne is known for – fighting and f*cking. In my home state of Maryland our official sport is jousting and we’re famous for crabs. So, pretty much the same thing.

Also, I’m guessing they are sailing near Egypt, because Jamie is in denial. He pretends Myrcella is his niece and then denies setting Tyrion free. De-nial, De-Nile… see what I did there?

I’ll see myself out.

At King’s Landing
It’s Open Mic Night! Mace Tyrell tries his hand at a joke which falls flat. Or did it kill? Because he’s sent off to the Iron Bank with that King’s Guard who’s known for being all murdery.

Cersei then dispatches Jonathan Pryce to enforce religious justice by arresting Loras Tyrell, trashing the brothels and breaking all of the kegs. But really, did they have to go after that poor Etsy artist too?

King Tommen politely asks those Stargate SG-1 fanboys (you know, the bald guys with those weird forehead tattoos) if he can see the High Sparrow. They tell him to frack off. Instead of cutting them down Joffrey style, he retreats and decides to pout then write a strongly worded letter. The Lannister boys really are the Goldilocks of Westeros, one was Vladimir Putin, the other the UN.

The Wall
Melisandre’s boobs! Melisandre’s boobs! Melisandre’s boobs!

Then some other stuff happened.

D Day
Jamie and Bronn hit the beach at Dorne pretending to be 70’s detectives Cooper and Darnell, but they forget who is who and have to kill four guys from the yellow checkered cab company.

BTW, you think Bronn is tired of Jamie using his one-hand thing as a crutch so he can get out of doing any dirty work? Someone needs to commission a swiss-army-hand attachment. You know, turn it once, it’s an oar, twice, it’s a shovel, once again and it’s a giant ‘The Lannisters Are #1’ foam finger…

Just down the way, we finally meet the Sand Snakes, who are playing Dornish Lawn Darts. Not familiar? It’s that thing where you bury a back-stabbing merchant up to his head in sand, pour scorpions all over his face, then toss spears at his noggin.

Winterfell
Littlefinger uses his quiet voice to say a bunch of words to Sansa, so you know he’s being all schemey. I’m still thinking about ginger witchy boobs.

And finally, in Mereen
Ser Barristan dies. Book readers fill the internet with angry emojis.

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Until next time…