A Game of Thrones Script by Me, Someone Who Has Never Seen Game of Thrones
SCENE: A THRONE ROOM.
PETER DINKLAGE is staring pensively out a window.
PETER DINKLAGE: Ah, what a time it has been, in this particular era and place.
A lady with long, blond/white hair and incongruously dark eyebrows enters.
PETER DINKLAGE: There you are, you.
EYEBROWS LADY: I would have come sooner, but I had to feed the dragons.
SOME DRAGONS: Roar! Hiss!
PETER DINKLAGE: As you know, you and I have unfinished business.
EYEBROWS LADY: Of course. It’s a question of honor, and as a member of the house of [mumbling, indistinct] I always defend my honor.
PETER DINKLAGE: Then the time has come for our game…of thrones.
Cut to THRONES, menacing.
EYEBROWS LADY: Don’t you think that’s kind of an intense way to describe musical chairs?
PETER DINKLAGE: No matter. All the other characters have already lost the game, which is why they’re not here. Like..armor-wearing man?
EYEBROWS LADY: I remember him fondly. Unless he was my enemy.
PETER DINKLAGE: Enough chitchat. We’re running out of time. Winter is coming!
EYEBROWS LADY: You’re right. We must begin the game of thrones. Dragons — music!
DRAGONS hum a haunting melody while fanning their wings, creating a delicate, otherworldly whistling that accompanies their song.
PETER DINKLAGE and EYEBROWS LADY circle the room, eyes locked on each other. EYEBROWS LADY walks gracefully, like she went to one of those schools where they make girls carry books on their heads, but also assertively, in a way that lets you know she’s killed folks. The music crescendos as tension builds.
PETER DINKLAGE: Both of our complex backstories lend significant implications to this moment.
The music stops. EYEBROWS LADY and PETER DINKLAGE rush to thrones. PETER DINKLAGE does an athletic vault to land in the seat of one. EYEBROWS LADY sits in another and crosses her ankles, but in a tough way.
Pause.
EYEBROWS LADY: Damnit, there’s supposed to be only one chair!
PETER DINKLAGE: I forgot! Armor-wearing man always used to set this up for me.
DRAGONS: Woof! Squawk!
EYEBROWS LADY: I don’t have time for this. I need to go re-dye my eyebrows, or my hair. Can we just call it a draw?
PETER DINKLAGE: All right. This show has been on for long enough that I’m probably mellowing out in my old age. Plus, who has time to hold grudges when either of us could die at any moment? Or might already be dead?
EYEBROWS LADY: Later I’m going to have some steamy and gratuitous sex, possibly with a relative.
PETER DINKLAGE: Make it good. 200 million Americans are watching!
HODOR: Hodor!
