It all started a couple of years ago with a knock at my door one Saturday afternoon. I noted this as a very odd occurrence because I live on a boat. I thought maybe I’d ordered a pizza from the lighthouse guy and then forgotten about it, but that didn’t seem likely because he’d drowned a week before. I opened the door with some trepidation, but I was not prepared for what I saw next. There stood acclaimed fantasy writer and author of the books that inspired the tv series that everybody loves George R.R Martin.
Hello, I am Death
‘Muggle, I must stay in your house for a few days.’ he said. ‘The press and fans are after me because I keep not writing that book I say I’m going to write.’
‘Muggle?’ I said. ‘That’s not in your book. That’s a Harry Potter thing.’
‘She doesn’t own the word!’ he bellowed at me. ‘I’m so sick of people telling me I can’t call them muggles. I wish I’d been published before Harry Potter. Then my wizard trilogy ‘Wizard School’ would have kicked off the wizard school craze.’
‘You were published before J.K Rowling.’ I pointed out. ‘Many years before her.’
‘Enough talk!’ he screamed. ‘The helicopters are closing in.’
There were no helicopters.
About six months later, he was still staying in my house. ‘Hey George.’ I said. ‘Maybe you can move out soon? I have a date tonight and you keep telling all the women I bring back here that you based the character of Joffrey on me. That doesn’t seem cool.’
‘Aha!’ George cried. ‘So, I have eaten of your bread, but still you stab me. Maybe I should call you WALDER FREY!’
‘George.’ I sighed, rubbing my temples. ‘I’ve never read your books. I don’t understand that reference.’
‘The Red Wedding is part of the cultural vocabulary!’ he bellowed like a crazed acclaimed fantasy author. ‘Watch the youtube video of me reacting to people reacting to The Red Wedding.’
‘George, I’m not going to do that. It’s stupid.’
‘You’re stupid.’ he mumbled.
I am also King of the Fishermen
Another six months and he was still living on my couch.
‘George, aren’t you very wealthy? I’ve seen pictures of you with Emilia Clarke.’
‘Yes, I’m very rich.’ he said.
‘Well could you maybe contribute towards the upkeep of my place if you keep living here. Because you won’t leave?’
‘Aha!’ he screamed. ‘This is just like when Littlefinger hid Catelyn Stark in a brothel!’
‘Ok, first, I don’t see how that could possibly be relevant to this situation. And secondly, I still haven’t read your stuff, so I don’t know who you’re talking about.’
‘Still?’ he asked, exasperated. ‘You’ve had a year! No wonder I based Joffrey on you.’
I have miniaturised this woman and shall do the same to you!
Six months later and he’d moved into my room and was sleeping on my bed.
‘George.’ I said. ‘Maybe you could give me my bed back? I actually have a really hard job and I need to sleep.’
‘I would wager your job isn’t as hard as the Brothers who guard the Wall!’ he screamed. ‘Night gathers, and now my watch begins…’
‘Please don’t start reciting the oath again. You recited it to my mum on the phone the other day and she became very worried. She thought I’d joined a cult.’
‘I wish I’d invented a cult like L. Ron Hubbard.’ said George wistfully. ‘Then if anybody asked me when my next book was coming out, I could throw them off the side of my boat.’
‘It’s my boat George.’
‘No I mean my boat. The one that’s just outside. The one that I sleep in when you go away on business because I’m scared of the dark.’
‘You have your own boat?’
‘Of course! I’m very rich!’
I screamed into the pillows he allowed me to take into the living room that night.
I killed this handsome idiot and you’re next!
My last argument with him didn’t go well. I told him that he needed to move out and he said that he was going out to find a woman to birth a shadow baby that would stab me. I guess that’s a reference from his books, so maybe it wasn’t a real threat, but I’m actually really scared. I don’t know what to do guys. How do you get an acclaimed fantasy author out of your house? Please give me some advice. I don’t know what to do anymore.