Game of Moans 9: ‘Final’

 

It all started kicking off round the back of Aldi, just down the road from the Winterfell estate. The Night King and his gang of undead thugs had upturned all the bins and were now taking it in turns riding the abandoned shopping trolleys.

 

“‘Heading South,’ you say?,” said Jon. “He didn’t get very far.”

 

“White walkers aren’t allowed on public transport,” said Brienne. “I also imagine too many pints of Ice Dragon can slow a man down.”

 

Meanwhile Sansa was making preparations. She had got Jon’s text saying, The Night King is heading South, then five minutes later, Scratch that, he’s heading into town, so she had called all her mates.

 

“What now?,” said the Umbers, the Karstarks and the Tullys.

 

The five thousand dragonglass dagger Construct-a-Kits Sansa had ordered hadn’t arrived in time, so she started handing out the little plastic sporks you get with pre-packed salads.

 

“What are we supposed to do with these?,” said Arya.

 

“They’re actually surprisingly sharp,” said Sansa.

 

“If you say so.”

 

Things were gathering momentum, as more and more white walkers started to arrive. Some of them with cans of spray paint.

 

“I know they’re the Army of the Dead and all,” said Theon Greyjoy, “but I really don’t know about actually stabbing people.”

 

“Oh just grow a pair, will you?,” said Varys.

 

“You can talk.”

 

It was then that Store Manager Dany flew in on her dragon.

 

“Woah there,” she said, as the beast skidded to a halt in front of the bus that Jaime and Bronn had just arrived on, which was subsequently set alight by the flame that erupted from the majestic creature’s butt.

 

“Fucking dragons!,” said Bronn, as he scrabbled to get out of the burning vehicle.

 

Jaime, however, was not so fortunate and burnt to a crisp.

 

(The bus driver, George, who had gotten off the bus in plenty of time, sniggered and did a big tick on a handwritten list.)

 

“Dracarys!,” said Dany, but a little prematurely, as the ensuing fiery carnage took out Bronn, Theon, some of Sansa’s mates and only a couple of the white walkers.

 

(Bus driver George started jumping up and down like a happy little gremlin.)

 

“I’m here!,” said Gendry, brandishing his hairdressing scissors, then a white walker chopped his head off.

 

(Tick.)

 

One of the white walkers with a can of spray paint finished writing ‘wniter iz hear’ on a wall, then turned to survey the gathering crowd. Said white walker wasn’t much of a fighter, however, so he nipped down an alleyway and sloped off to the nearest pub.

 

When all those present had engaged in a bit of scrappery - involving lots of stabbing, chopping, screaming and holding in of wee (because no one seems to think about going to the toilet before going into battle) - over a sea of corpses and empty crisp packets (because fighting was hungry work), the Night King finally came face-to-face with Jon Snow.

 

“But wait,” said the Night King; “you’re...”

 

“The barman?,” said Jon Snow.

 

“Yes, but how? I thought you were...”

 

“Dead?”

 

“Will you stop finishing my sentences?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“S’okay. But how are you alive?”

 

“Didn’t you realise you were playing darts with sucker darts?”

 

“But what about all those people I killed at The Wall?”

 

“Oh just one sucker dart then. That was lucky. For it spared me to be able to do this...”

 

Jon Snow stabbed the Night King with a dragonglass dagger he had constructed that morning.

 

The Night King just smiled.

 

“Oh,” said Jon Snow.

 

“Didn’t you realise they don’t use real dragonglass with Construct-a-Kits?,” said the Night King.

 

“Oh dear.”

 

“Oh dear indeed.”

 

The Night King then stabbed Jon Snow with a big sword and made him dead.

 

(Tick!)

 

The Night King looked all around and about. In the preceding battle, everyone else had died - including all of the white walkers.

 

(Many ticks.)

 

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” said the Night King.

 

The Night King’s phone rang. The Night King answered it.

 

“Hello dear,” said the Night King.

 

“Have you finished yet?,” said the Night King’s wife.

 

“Well... um...”

 

“Your dinner’s in the undead dragon.”

 

The Night King’s wife hung up.

 

The Night King returned to the pub.

 

[ the end ]