Cersei is confronting the corpse of her last living child. She does not appear terribly upset; her eyes water, but she does not fully cry. Cersei is as upset about having three dead children as I am when I realize the crab wontons are missing from my Seamless order. “Burn him,” she instructs her diabolical white-man friend — Herpgot — who just helped her explode thousands of people. Burning is Cersei’s solution to everything. Her entire city? Burn it!! Her children’s fresh corpses? Burn them. Jaime’s cherished collection of Dave Matthews B sides? Burn them. Like, to another CD. So she can listen. Cersei loves DMB because she identifies with the way Dave Matthews’s priorities changed once he became a parent.
Walder Frey is eating a quiche. He asks the hot waitress where his “damn moron sons” are. “They’re here,” she says. She points to the quiche. TL;DR Walder Frey is eating his sons. The hot waitress takes off her face and reveals herself to be Arya. Arya has clearly been reading her Shakespeare; girl is on some Titus shit. Our favorite English major slits Walder Frey’s throat.
