It was late in the week when a horrible scream
rang out out while my husband was watching TV.
"What the hell??" I said, panicked, expecting to find
Something awful had happened, like Tom Hanks had died.
"Sorry!" Jordan winced, "Nothing is wrong,
I was just catching up - Game of Thrones is on."
Rolling my eyes, I plopped down on the couch,
Hating this show and being a grouch.
"Have you given it a chance?" he asked with sincerity,
Though watching this show is, for me, an act of charity.
"I watched Season One," I replied, unamused,
"Then I'd had my fill of torture and boobs."
"Just see what you think. Here, this episode is ending,
give it a go. And at least we'll be spending
time together watching TV, 'cause you know
I can't watch the Housewives." "THAT'S NOT MY ONLY SHOW.
But fine," I sneered. "I'll give it a shot.
You've roped me into the world of GoT,
But just for one episode." Then I proceeded
to watch dead, naked people, and good guys get cheated.
The scene opened on a pack of mean, scary dogs
Eating a girl alive in the dense forest fog.
I then watched two siblings have sex near a coffin -
Not an anomaly! They do this quite often!
An army attacked a small village and killed
A boy's mother and father, and because still
That wasn't enough, they ate them for fun.
Ate them. As in, cannibalism. Not done!
I grew attached to a character, then learned my lesson:
Your favorites will soon become delicatessen.
Sliced up like a sandwich tray. It's a guarantee:
You like them? They're dead now. Hooray! Whoopee!
Some horrible child of the devil named Ramsay
Did awful things to some women, then later - WHAM! he
cut off this poor bastard's penis! For REAL!
He did it with joy! He did it with zeal!
I sat there in horror, mouth hanging agape,
"How many storylines on this show include rape?!"
"I know," Jordan said. "It's awful. It's true.
But the plot is compelling. It really stays with you."
Leaving the room in a dignified huff,
I swore off the show and any similar stuff.
Jordan clicked "PLAY" on the next episode,
And I made sure my indignance apparently showed.
And then something happened. I'm not proud to say
that I woke up, rolled over, and whispered, "Hey...
I don't want to watch it again, that's still true,
but real quick - what happened in Episode 2?"
Sleepy Jord filled me in and I sat there enraptured
Amazed at the attention this dumpster fire had captured.
I couldn't stop thinking - consuming my thoughts
were dragons, The Hound, and whether Arya got caught.
How had this happened?? Surely there was some cure.
I couldn't care this much; my heart is too pure!
"No," I thought, solemnly. "You're a person of principle.
...but what about The Mountain? IS HE invincible?!"
After dinner, the dishes were cleaned and put up,
I casually wandered to the couch with my pup.
"I'm not watching," I said. "I'm working on my computer."
And secretly watched Sansa marry her suitor.
Four episodes later, my lower back ached,
My eyeballs were dry and unblinkingly awake.
"WHOA," I breathed out. "A hell of a season."
"No kidding," said Jordan. "NOW you see the reason."
Begrudgingly, I have to admit I was wrong.
The fantasy nerds had it right all along.
The gore and the sex and the torture and smut
Are too much, it's true, but it's not that clear-cut:
If you turn up your nose at the thought of this series,
or hold fast to pacifist, feminist theories,
I get it. I do. And all I can say
Is that my heart is still with you. Yet later today,
I'll be on the couch, digesting my meal,
Watching Jon Snow wield Valyrian steel.
And later, I'll dream of those bone-chilling stalkers
I saw for the first time last episode: White Walkers.
So hear this lesson, stay far away.
Don't yield to the old "Just one episode," play.
You'll find yourself falling in love with Khaleesi
And learn that resistance just isn't that easy.
I have no self-respect. My dignity is gone.
and yet, I don't care once the TV is on.
Heed this eulogy, friends, be not deaf to its tones -
My soul is now owned by Game of FREAKING Thrones.