Lame of Thrones by The Harvard Lampoon

Author:The Harvard Lampoon [Lampoon, The Harvard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2020-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

The Wintersmells Great Hall was abuzz with hundreds of spectators. At the head table sat Pantsa and Bland looking somber. Two soldiers escorted Malarya into the room.

“We are gathered here today,” began Pantsa, “to kill someone who is a threat to the North.” Littledingle couldn’t help but smile as he looked at Malarya Snark. His plan had worked. With one little forged note, he was able to turn the Snark girls against each other. Pantsa stood up and faced Malarya. “You stand accused of treason, murder, and attempted murder”—she abruptly shifted to face Littledingle—“Lord Balehead.”

“Huh?” said Littledingle.

“Look at your face!” exclaimed Malarya. “Everyone look at his face. Look at how bad we got him. That face! You got GOT!” She began to do a mocking high-pitched squeak. “‘Oooh, I’m Littledingle, and my plan worked and now they’re going to kill Malarya.’ IDIOT!” The room erupted in laughter. “Me and Pantsa met up and figured all this stuff out,” said Malarya. “We just didn’t include it in the book so there’d be a twist when we actually reveal that this is a trial for you.”

“I, ummmm, I, uhhh.” Littledingle’s face was priceless. He really did look like a fucking idiot.

“You didn’t just pit me and Malarya against each other. You betrayed our father, Deaddard Snark, and assisted in his killing,” said Pantsa. “Do you deny it?”

“Of course I deny it!” shouted Littledingle, his voice cracking. “None of you were there, so I’m innocent.”

Bland rolled his eyes back as they turned pink and crusted over. Suddenly he could see the past, and he was there. “You told him he was ol’ ‘Iron Neck’ Snark,” said Bland. The room fell silent.

Littledingle froze and clammed up like a frozen clam.

Bland continued. “You told our father that he was ol’ ‘Iron Neck’ Snark and that there was nothing a sword could ever do to harm him.”

“Pantsa,” said Littledingle, “you must believe me.”

“You knew he did not have an iron neck,” said Bland. “But you still convinced him to go in front of the sword because you wanted him dead. You conspired with the Bangsisters to have him killed, and then you had him present his own neck for decapitation. And the whole time he thought his neck was too strong to be cut… all because of you.”

“Pantsa, please,” whispered Littledingle. “Forgive me.”

Malarya approached him with a knife. “Don’t worry, Littledingle. You’re ol’ ‘Copper Throat,’” she joked. “This here dagger won’t hurt you.” Malarya cut his throat with a surprising level of difficulty. Damn, he may really be ol’ “Copper Throat,” she thought.

Littledingle held his neck shut with his hands to try to stop the bleeding. “Pantsa, please. I’m sorry.” This fool won’t die fast enough, thought Malarya. She plunged her sword through his heart. Try to keep talking after that.

“Pantsa, forgive me,” said Littledingle, standing right back up. “I really thought he was ol’ ‘Iron Neck,’ okay? This is a huge misunderstanding.”

You just don’t know how to stay down, do you? thought Malarya. She cut a rope that dropped an anvil hung in the rafters right onto Littledingle’s head.

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