I had originally posted this story and picture a few months ago but took it down while I was applying for a job that I thought might not think this was funny. I didn't get the job, so I decided to put it back up. I put a censor bar over Hodor just to be safe, but note that the wolf's back made it so you couldn't see anything before. I just decided to make it that much less sketchy. Now, without further ado: a stupid fanfic story I wrote that was inspired by a gchat conversation.
A chill sweeps through an eerily quiet field as two armies prepare for battle. On one side: an army led by Rob Stark The King of the North as some have taken to calling him. On the other: a massive army led by the rich and powerful Tywin Lannister. As they ready for battle, a third army can be seen cresting the horizon. At the front of an enormous force is the steely face of the Lord of Light, Stannis Baratheon. A sword made from the finest Valyrian steel would be unable to cut through the tension. The three generals rally their troops as a section of forest burst into flames. As though birthed from the fire, Daenerys Targaryen comes soaring from the flaming trees riding a dragon. Also, she is naked. One dragon would cause all but the most courageous knights to wet their armor and she has brought three to this battle.
Every man on that field looks at one another and knows that today may just be their last. The dragons might win that day with their fiery breath and air superiority. Or, perhaps, Stannis will come out victorious with his endless army and magical ginger chick. Then again, Tywin surely has the best equipped and well fed army. Funding has not been an issue for his men. But then, the Stark boy has shown himself the victor time and time again, particularly when his opponents have completely dismissed him. Suddenly, the beach head fills with ship bows as a force led by Theon Greyjoy joins the fight. Theon’s eyes quickly gaze over the forces around him and he wisely decides that he is way over his head and is a super pussy. Theon’s army leaves as quickly as it arrives.
All of the remaining armies return their attention to one another. Men will die today. Nobody knows where the horn comes from, but every man hears it and knows; the time for peace has ended. The four armies charge towards one another. Every sheath is emptied and every bow has an arrow nocked. Before a single drop of blood can be spilled, a direwolf comes galloping out of the chaos and into the very center of the field. A fat retarded guy rides the beast.
“HODOR!!!”, the rider yells.
Every man stops.
Maybe it was magic or fear or maybe those men just did not want to die but silence falls across the field and nobody knows why. “Hodor,” the fat, retarded guy continues, “Hodor, hodor hodor hodor.” The men look at one another, seeing humanity in each other’s eyes for the first time. “Hodor! Hodor hodor hodor hodor,” the fat retarded guy speaks with passion. The mood begins to change as his speech draws on. “Hodor hodor hodor. Hodor. Hodor...”. As the nameless, fat, retarded guy’s speech comes to a close the unmistakable clang of a sword falling to the ground can be heard. Then, a few more swords can be heard. The field fills with the deafening sound of men releasing their weapons. The fat retarded guy begins to weep as he utters his final words, “Hodor. Hodor.” The men all applaud for they know that this one man has saved all of their lives.
In time, that field became known as “The Field of the Nameless Fat Retarded Guy” and every year a festival is held on that land to remember how many lives he saved that day.
No comments:
Post a Comment