Ciao, come al solito sono Il Navigatore del Web (Cirdan il marinaio mio secondo Nickname) è ho pescato qualcosa che sicuramente sarà  divertente se tradotto, e cioé delle interpretazioni di ASOAF come avrebbero potuto scriverlo altri autori fantasy e non solo.

C'è ne una ed è forse la piu' divertente di Matt Groening.

Allora qualcuno vuole tradurle... tanto prima che arriva AFFC.... campa cavallo o meglio campa l'estraneo.

1 parte

If ASOIAF had been written by another author...

A Song of Ice and Fire, by David Eddings:

Sansa stood on the battlements. She was feeling melancholy; a feeling she

found not entirely unpleasant.

Hearing the familiar waddle behind her, she turned to face Tyrion. His beard

was even more messy than usual, and his mismatched eyes were shot with red.

"Been drinking again, have you?" she sighed.

Tyrion looked at her grumpily. "I'm happy to see you too, my darling wife.

Any word from my oaf of a brother yet?"

"No, milord." She sniffed. "Don't you think it's time for your annual

shower?"

"I was never made for showering," he growled, then shot her a wicked glance.

"Unless, of course, my lady wife would care to join me?"

Sansa's pretty cheeks turned bright red. "My lord!"

Tyrion's expression became somber. "I'm worried about Jaime. Unless I've

misread the Codex completely, he should've been here by now. I have a

feeling that I'm missing something important."

Sansa looked at him worriedly. "Another twist of the prophecy, Tyrion? Isn't

it about time you told me about my role in it?"

Tyrion groaned. "Haven't we been through this many times already, Sansa? I

don't know! The Codex speaks only of the Little Bird, the Lion, the

Wardrobe, the Mountain and the Fat Walda. Something big is supposed to

happen here, and you're part of it."

Sansa couldn't help it. "Why me?" she said with an impish grin.

Tyrion waddled off, muttering curses under his breath.

------

Author: denstorebog

_____________________________________________________________________________

A Song Of Ice And Fire, by Robert Jordan

Catelyn sniffed, and looked in disgust at her dress. It was a beautiful dark

blue, slashed with black lace, which hugged about a bit too tightly around

the bosom, and was cut lower than she would have preferred. Something to be

worn in private, perhaps.

She decided she did not have time to change, and began to walk back to the

hall. In the wall were niches filled with ceramic lions, and candlesticks so

covered in gilt that they could have been solid gold. The floor was covered

in mosaic dragons that seemed to be hastily repainted with crowned stags.

The ceiling was high, and painted a deep shade of red, and it sloped slowly

up to an even greater height for the entrance to the hall. The door was

thick wood, banded in iron straps, and held in place with a thick wooden

bar. One of the guardsmen was eyeing her bosom with a hungry eye. Catelyn

sniffed and gave the guardsman a level look, and he quickly blushed,

straightened his collar and looked away. Men, she thought, always gazing at

things they can never have.

As the gate swung open with a loud screech, it revealed the dimly lit hall

beyond.

TRANSLATION: Catelyn got ready and went to the hall.

------

Author: Sanelyan

_____________________________________________________________________________

A Song of Ice And Fire, By RA Salvatore:

With a catlike grace Jon was scaling the cliff. The dangerous fire was

leaping in his amber eyes when he thought of the evil descending on the

peaceful population of the Seven Kingdoms. Ygritte-Goat Cheese was climbing

right behind him, her fair beautiful innocent face showing the thinking

process.

"Ther sky is ver' dark and it is gettin' cold, Jon. We're better to set camp"

reasoned Ygritte-Goat Cheese. Jon almost tumbled down stricken by the

incredible wisdom of the woman. "Dear, dear Ygritte," and his eyes watered.

They set up the camp and despite the imminent danger from the presence of

ten thousand fifteen hundred and twelve Others crawling in all of the dark

corners of the region, Jon set to record his diary.

Jon's Diary:

Friendship is a rarest gift to be given to a bastard. Everyone judges me by

me being baseborn and makes vulgar jokes about it and would taunt me and

torment me and cut me into many little pieces, but for the armor of my faith

in my dear friends...

Suddenly they were under attack. Magically two obsidian scimitars appeared

in Jon's hands and Ygritte pulled the string of her curved bow. A striking

shiny silver magical arrow flew past Jon almost taking away his ear and

pierced roughly twenty of Others, causing them terrifying damage and raining

their mis-matched pieces down on Jon.

"Dear Ygritte," sighed Jon, but his orbs were already sparkling with the

excitement of the upcoming battle with evil. The obsidian blades started a

dance of death, the right one gutting one doomed other and the left one

conducting the Rakhmaninov's Second Symphony. He looked in the eyes of the

doomed creature to the right and saw that it does not know of its nearing

death, just like the doomed creature to the left of him. Instead the

ignorant and purely evil Others wiped their transparent hands and cheered

their spider mounts on. Jon went into the sidelong roll, then into the

back long roll, then he did a triple somersault all the while hacking a

slashing until all of the attacking 20 creatures were not dead. Another 40

were cut down by Ygritte's arrows.

"You are hurt!" yelled Jon panicking, seeing a small scratch on Ygritte's

face, "I am going to heal you." And Jon pulled out the bottle with bluish

liquid out of his pocket and gently smeared it all over Ygritte's pretty fair

beautiful face and stood gasping at the incredible shine of her auburn

locks. Ygritte smiled: "What are you stare on? Shut yor stupid mouth and

kiss me already!" Jon felt dizzy and fell down. In all seventy years of his

life on the surface he could not overcome a trauma of his mother being his

father's unknown mistress. He could not possibly kiss Ygritte. Besides it

was only 20 years since that most wonderful woman broke up with her

boyfriend of old.

------

Author: Domi

_____________________________________________________________________________

A Song of Ice and Fire, by Terry Brooks

Bran couldn't walk but they were right behind him. He thought back to home,

to the Vale, where he and every small boy who couldn't defend himself came

from and went on countless horrible journeys and throughout all the

adversity they faced they still came out on top much like the hobbits who

lived further south and also always seemed to overcome adversity in the face

the ultimate evil and it made Bran feel like he was a rip of something else

but he wasn't sure what.

Anyway Bran looked over his shoulder and saw the horrible flying dragons

circling towards him. Oh if only the Coldhands were here now to save me, he

thought, but then he thought again, No Bran, you're on your own. He took a

step forward. In the back of his mind an Indian named Two Bears and Six

Women told him "for a young pup to run he has to first learn to walk." That

made a lot of sense to Bran because horrible Indian clichés always said deep

things that made a lot of sense if you really thought about them so he took

another step. One of the Others jumped in his path, a horrible monster of

tentacles and fur and smashed up snouts and right behind it came the sure

sword of Arthur Dayne. "Run Bran," he told the boy and that was the last

thing he remembered before something hit him in the back of the head and

everything went black.

And then Bran overcomes adversity, learns to walk, finds a pair of magical

stones and a sword that reveals truth and then he wins and then he goes home

and reads the Hobbit and then the LOTR so he can leaves instructions on what

his other little relatives from Culhaven need to do when the ultimate evil

threatens the realm.

------

Author: SimonOfSteele

_____________________________________________________________________________

ASOIAF, By Terry Pratchett

"My Lord," the fat guard said, coming up beside Jon atop the Wall where Jon

stood, looking out at the Haunted Forest, "His Grace would like see you in

the Great Hall."

"His Grace," said Jon, thinking, "I am not too sure about that name."

"Er, pardon, my Lord?"

"His Grace. Just yesterday I was walking across the courtyard when I saw

Stannis Baratheon slip on a puddle of ice. Hardly graceful behavior is it?"

"I suppose not, my Lord."

"It might even be considered clumsy."

"Most probab-"

"So where would His Clumsiness like to see me?"

The guard looked pleased at a question he could answer confidently. "The

Great Hall, my Lord."

"Great hall?" asked Jon, "What's that?"

The guard's face frowned, reminding Jon of the way a ball is dented when

kicked. "The hall where the garrison eats, my Lord."

"Oh, you mean the Common Room."

"Er, yes, my-"

"It is no hall, most definitely. I've been in many halls in my time and that

is most definitely a Room."

"Um."

"And I would not say it was great."

"Well-"

"Has this Common Room made any significant achievements?" Jon pressed. "Has

the Common Room proved itself in combat, rescued any maidens, gained any

qualifications in Business Management?" Jon eyed the fat guard and saw his

jaw begin to quiver.

"No, but, but, it is where we eat my Lord.

Jon gave it some thought. "Eating is necessary," he murmured to himself. He

looked up at the guard.

"Then perhaps we should rename it the Not Great but Necessary Common Room."

he said at last.

"Uh."

"If you are referring to great in the other sense of size, then again I

would have to disagree. Compared to other rooms I have seen it is not all

that big, and even compared to other Common Rooms is not worth note. Sam

took measurements the other day and actually declared it quite small."

The guard frowned again, his mouth working silently. "The Quite Small Not

Great But Necessary Common Room?" he ventured.

"Yes," Jon said, nodding, "yes, that would be more accurate."

Silence. The guard shifted uneasily.

More silence. The guard again shifted, making Jon wonder absently if the fat

man was having trouble supporting his huge wait on his feet.

"So." the guard said at last.

"So... what?" Jon asked, looking up.

"Can you come to The Quite Small Not Great But Necessary Common Room to see

His Clumsiness?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm busy. You should have asked sooner."

------

Author: VarysTheSpider

_____________________________________________________________________________

ASOIAF by Terry Goodkind

Tyrion had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. He had just met her

but he already felt that he loved her more than anything. He couldn't do

anything without her. If she died, he would soon follow after.

*100 pages of the same paragraph over and over, with some lovemaking in

between.*

Tyrion knew that he loved her with all his heart and could never live

without her, but right now he had the problem of that 109823409823092

million wights and Others coming at him. He figured that with that many

enemies at hand he was as good as dead, but at least he sent the love of his

life away. Did he mention that he couldn't live without her and loved her

more than anything in the world?

As the army of undead approached, Tyrion decided he could do with a quick

raping. Even though he loved the other girl with all his heart and would die

without her, what would this chapter be without a gritty rape scene?

After he bagged the wench he remembered that there was an army of

109238927309823409 bazillion wights and Others coming straight at him. The

first one reached him and beat the living crap out of him. Tyrion had never

felt pain like this before. Then, all of the sudden, he remembered. Out of

nowhere he pulled out his trusty nuclear bomb spell and killed the entire

2098230498230928304928304982039 triple gazillion wights, Others, Freys,

mercenaries, dog-faced gremlins, and chia pets that were threatening his

world and the girl that he couldn't live without because he loved her so

much. Did he mention how much he loved her yet? And that he just bear the

thought of living without her?

Now that the enemy was defeated, and Tyrion had barely broken a sweat, he

decided it was time to go have more sex.

The end.

------

Author: Father Rahl

_____________________________________________________________________________

ASOIAF - as an internet chat log:

------

** You entered channel: Harrenhal.

** Your nickname is: Arya

<Arya> hello ?

<Arya> anyone here

<Arya> /who

Users currently in channel: ChIsWyCk, Hot_Pie, ADMIN_Weese

<Arya> hey HP

<Hot_Pie> sup

<Hot_Pie> arya d00d this channel sux

<Arya> yeah

<Arya> lets go to Outside_Harrenhal, its a pretty l33t room

<Hot_Pie> no

<Hot_Pie> i already tried, its password protected, we cant go there

<Arya> wtf, u mean we have to stay here??

<Hot_Pie> yah

<Arya> wtf

<ADMIN_Weese> lol lamers u stfu now or be banned, u hear me?

<Arya> uh oh

<Arya> /nick weasel

** Arya changed nick to: weasel

<ADMIN_Weese> lol weasel ur my bitch now, u hear?

<weasel> yessir

<weasel> grr

<weasel> /msg weasel ser gregor, the hound, the tickler, WEESE...

** Weasel whispers to you: ser gregor, the hound, the tickler, WEESE...

<weasel> /msg weasel ser gregor, the hound, the tickler, WEESE...

** Weasel whispers to you: ser gregor, the hound, the tickler, WEESE...

<weasel> /msg weasel ser gregor, the hound, the tickler, WEESE...

*** Caution: Spamming will not be tolerated.

<weasel> wtf

** ADMIN_Jaquen has entered the channel.

<ADMIN_Jaquen> sup all

<weasel> /msg ADMIN_Jaquen hey its me arya

** ADMIN_Jaquen whispers to you: sup arya, thanx for ur help the other day

<weasel> /msg ADMIN_Jaquen no prob

** ADMIN_Jaquen whispers to you: if anyone bothers u, just lemme know ok? i

got l337 admin rights in here

<ChIsWyCk> lolz yeah ok so me n the other guys went to some porn site the

other days w all these hardcore pics of chicks getting raped

<ChIsWyCk> anyone want the url?

<weasel> wtf

<weasel> /msg ADMIN_Jaquen kick chiswyck

*** ChIsWyCk was banned by ADMIN_Jaquen (valar morghulis, lamer)

<weasel> lol

<weasel> /nick GhostOfHarrenhal

** weasel changed nick to: GhostOfHarrenhal

** Hot_Pie whispers to you: i just talked to gendry, he says he met u irl

and ur not really a guy like u said

<GhostOfHarrenhal> /msg Hot_Pie u just stfu now, dont tell anyone

** Hot_Pie whispers to you: ok ok its cool w me

<ADMIN_Weese> WEASEL u piece of crap where did u go

<GhostOfHarrenhal> wtf

<GhostOfHarrenhal> /msg ADMIN_Jaquen kick ADMIN_Weese

*** ADMIN_Weese was banned by ADMIN_Jaquen (valar morghulis, lamer)

<GhostOfHarrenhal> lol

<Hot_Pie> lol

<ADMIN_Jaquen>

<GhostOfHarrenhal> jaquen u have the pass for channel 'Outside_Harrenhal' ?

<ADMIN_Jaquen> maybe

<GhostOfHarrenhal> give it to me

<ADMIN_Jaquen> naw, i'll ban ppl for u, but i cant give u that pass

<GhostOfHarrenhal> any ppl?

<ADMIN_Jaquen> yah

<GhostOfHarrenhal> /msg ADMIN_Jaquen kick ADMIN_Jaquen

<ADMIN_Jaquen> wtf

<ADMIN_Jaquen> hold on a sec

<ADMIN_Jaquen> u dont mean that

* Hot_Pie yields.

<GhostOfHarrenhal> sure i do - unless u give me the pass

---

Author: denstorebog

_____________________________________________________________________________

John Madden Play by Play of the battle of Kings Landing

John Madden: Ok now you got your ships comin up the stream, they're trying

to blitz the main gate. What the defense is going to want to do is stop

those ships from reaching the interior.

Al Michaels: Both teams want a win real bad

John Madden: Right if you don't want to win, you're not going to win,

winning is all about who plays the hardest and has the biggest heart, cause

when you got winners and losers, only the winners win.

Al Michaels: Looks like Stannis's team fell into a trap

John Madden: Traps are what you got to watch out for, any good defense knows

the best way to win is to do something unexpected. When you do something

unexpected, the other team is taken by surprise.

Al Michaels: I wish you'd die.

------

Author: UOrules

_____________________________________________________________________________

Here's my own (weak, no doubt) attempt to try Vladimir Nabokov; Petyr

Baelish always did have a bit of Humbert Humbert in him, I think...

*******

Sansa, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.

She was Lady Lannister in King's Landing in her too-small gown, standing

next to her runt husband with the mismatched eyes. She was Alayne Stone here

at Eyrie. She was Sansa Stark to her late brothers. But in my arms she was

always Sansa.

Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there

might have been no Sansa at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain

initial girl-child. In a castle atop the Trident. Oh when? About as many

years before Sansa was born as my age was that summer. (You can always count

on a murder for a fancy prose style.)

My dear lords and ladies, my defense is what the singers, the misinformed,

simple, golden-tongued singers envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

------

Author: Harry the Heir

_____________________________________________________________________________

Stand back people, here comes J. R. R. Tolkien.

The sprawling sea flowed around Ser Davos Seaworth as he stood at the prow

of his ship. The Esperanto, who are the Lepancirino, had not been willing to

build a ship, but at the high point of Ser Davos' speech he had appeared to

them so regal that they had known love in their hearts. And they had built

his ship. And they had said among them that Davos was the Prince Who Was

Promised. And Davos knew in his heart that this was wrong but did not

contradict them, nor did he stay their adoration, as he had known pride.

Davos continued to stare and in the distance a great face of rock jutted out

of the flowing sea that looked as like the end of the world, for certainly

no man in the history of Westeros, that is the Seven Kingdoms, that is the

Land of the Andals, had ever sailed this many leagues to the North before.

And lo! No sooner had Ser Davos spotted the rock face than he beheld a great

many ships, thirty in all if his sight was true. Great and tall and big and

wide and strong were the ships, with high banners of green and red and blue.

The banners of the Wildlings.

And Ser Davos, Lord of the Rainwood, found himself drawn to the majesty of

those ships that were his enemy and he discovered that he did not want to

destroy the ships that Melisandre had told him to, but capture them instead

and keep their beauty in the world. Thus he stood in thought as the Wildling

armada grew closer, knowing in his heart what an ill thing it would be to

destroy such magnificent vessels.

And behold! from behind Davos did Salladhor Saan emerge. "The black foe is

thither on the horizon," he said, "we must begin our attack ere nightfall."

"There fleet is poised to assail our shore near Eastwatch?"

"My heart tells me so."

"Now I see the ships I can not bring myself to do the deed." Davos said.

"You must!" cried Saan. "Even if it is through fell sorcery. They can not be

allowed to assault our lands. Nor can we attempt a conventional attack. We

are but one ship and must use the deviltry for the good of the realm."

"Yes," said Davos setting his heart, "Why do they not lift anchor?"

"The minds of Wildlings are oft queer."

"Yes. We must attack now." Davos looked up and saw that the deepening

twilight, heralding the end of yet another day of the world, was fast

ending.

And so it came to pass that Ser Davos Seaworth used the deviltry taught to

him by the lady Melisandre, who claimed to be of the light but wasn't, and

the Wildling fleet was broken, and their masts were torn down, and their

decks sundered, and their seamen cast into the sea, and the host that had

prepared to invade Westeros, that is the Seven Kingdoms, from the North,

that is beyond-the-Wall, was gone from the world save in memory of the

Maesters, those that remember when all else have forgotten.

And from everafter Davos walked in black thought, as though a great burden

was set on his mind and heart, bearing the knowledge that he destroyed ships

that were never meant to be destroyed, that his decision was flawed and his

wisdom was foul, and not a word Stannis Baratheon, King of the Narrow Sea

and Wall, or the boy Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and

natural son to Eddard Stark, who was Warden of the North and The Lord of

Winterfell, could say could pierce that veil of darkness that covered his

heart, till eventually, grown old by twenty years in the space of several

months, so did he die, and his spirit left the world and where it went no

man can say. Alas! such is the doom of all men of Westeros.

------

Author: VarysTheSpider

_____________________________________________________________________________

Well, I figured that it's time to call on heavier artillery, so here is a Dostoyevskiy's attempt....

The fog was blown into the city from the seaside, making it almost

impossible to breath. Jaime Tywinovich Lannister coughed and pulled his

worn white cloak tighter about his bony shoulders. He then walked slowly

through the grayish streets of King's Landing observing lean faces of pacing

people and suddenly his glance would pick up a man or a woman and he would

stop and gaze upon them, his lips twitching in a strange smile. That was not

the way those people looked that amused Jaime, that was the fact that they

were unable to guess at his secret, unable to decipher him.

A beggar girl from the look of her caught a fold of Jamie's cloak: "Bread,

milord, bread, please for the Seventh's sake..." Jaime's hands were

trembling as he with sudden shyness turned his pockets inside out hurriedly,

searching for coins. The girl was no older than seven and her face was

marked by that special sort of pride beggars have and feverish scarlet of

her chick bones betrayed her unfortunate condition to Jamie. "What is your

name, child? " asked he gently, leaning towards her. She was suddenly astir.

"Arya," cried she and pushed away his hand clutching few coins and tried to

run. Her small figure was then shaken by a fit of cough and she collapsed

convulsing on the ground. Jamie leaned over her, and a small crowd started

gathering round. A peasant looking lady with weathered yet kindly face said

pitifully: "'that's old Ned Rickardovich's girl." Jaime turned to the

speaker: "You will know then the way to her home, kind woman?" The woman

nodded and with sudden ease lifted the girls body of the ground. Jaime

tried awkwardly to give woman the money. She shook her head: "You will have

use of them yet, my poor man. Go, dear, nothing for you to do here any

more." Jaime went, hunched and sorrowful.

*****************************

The rooms in the Red Keep were low and unpleasing. "How can they let a man

to leave in the unpleasing room like that? Dark, narrow rooms are poison for

the soul," thought Jaime. Aloud he told slowly thoughtfully: "I have met a

beggar girl today, Cersey Tywinovna. Her name was Arya. The most poor

creature she was. I think I shall marry her." Cersey's face grew pale, and

her gaze clutched to his chin as if its movement when he spoke was the most

important for her to watch. "Arya Eddardovna? I was thinking that you were

Sansa Eddardovna's pet, my dear Jamie Tywinovich." He laughed in agony:

"Even if so, what is the difference, I beg you, Cersey?" Torment appeared in

her eyes and she raised and walked over to the window and turned to him.

"Indeed, no difference Jaime. I am Robert's," and she laughed hard. That

laugh was not a gaily sort of laugh, and her eyes glowed feverishly. Jaime

crossed the room and cried: "You are innocent, Cersey Tywinovna, and you are

pure, you are innocent." She looked at him suddenly quieted and whispered:

"I dreamt that one would come and tell that I am innocent. Sometimes I

dreamt and dreamt about it. And then Robert comes and despoils me."

------

Author: Domi

_____________________________________________________________________________

Here's JK Rowling. More of a satire really.

When Arya arrived at bravos she was sad. She missed her family, her half

brother most of all. Jon had always been nice to her. She felt tears in her

eyes that were wet.

A man approached her from somewhere. He had a big beard and a big head. He

reminded Arya of a big man.

"So," he said loudly, "You have come to be Faceless Man! To learn the ways

of killing."

"I'm Arya Stark and I'm not a killer!" Arya said hotly.

"Yes you are!" The man said fiercely.

"No I'm not!" Arya said just as hotly

"Yes you are! You've killed and that makes you a killer!"

"But I don't want to be!" Arya said angrily.

"You should. A dead enemy is a thing of beauty." The man said grimly.

Arya was shocked. "That's a terrible thing to say!"

The man looked away. "Come with me."

They walked down a grey road to a big blue house. Along the way Arya saw

many strange things. Two men were arguing over a horse that had six legs and

a group of women were talking very quickly about the best way to stew rabbit

with magic.

"Do you have much magic here?" she asked the man.

"Magic?" he rumbled, "Oh yes, plenty of magic around here, especially here."

He gestured at his mid section.

Arya gasped. "Do you have a wand in your pocket?" She asked, hesitating.

The man chuckled. "Well. I don't like to brag, but."

They reached the house. The roof was sloped and the grass outside was green.

Arya thought it was the type of house where someone might live. The man

walked up to the door. "Openus the bloody doorus!" he bellowed. The door

opened revealing a man dressed in clothes.

"You could have just knocked, my Lord. Or used your key." He said

disapprovingly.

"I could have, you're right. Come, Arya." Arya wondered how he knew her name

but then remembered that she had told him.

They walked through a corridor into a large room with a wooden table in the

centre and the man folded his arms.

"These are bad times, Arya. The lord of Myr is lose again." He said gravely.

"You mean Lord Fart."

"Don't say his name!" he hissed.

"Fart."

"Don't!"

"Fart, fart, fart, fart, FART!" She shouted.

The man was silent for a while. "Not many people would dare say a word

filled with such terror as." he paused, "fart," he shuddered. "I think your

first mission as a Faceless Man will be to kill him."

Arya was taken aback. "How can I face Fart? I'm not trained."

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm unprepared."

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm still young."

"Doesn't matter."

"But why do I have to kill him? He's never done me any harm."

The man looked uncomfortable but it might have just been his chair. "Well,

actually he did try to kill you when you were young."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "No one knows."

"Why didn't he succeed?" She asked wonderingly.

"Something to do with love, no one really knows." He said simply.

"Why didn't my parents tell me?" She asked demandingly.

"They're both dead. Look, you just have to kill him that's all." He said

matter-of-factly.

Arya sighed. An untrained, young, inexperienced and unprepared child going

up against a lord as terrifying as Lord Fart. Could it really work.?

------

Author: VarysTheSpider

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Seuss on the red wedding

Cat was a very strange woman, at that,

You could say she was an aristocrat.

She was invited, to a par-tay,

She thought, hmm, I'll be on my way.

She came with her son, as an honoured guest,

And back at her home was an empty nest.

She hoped this party would not go astray,

No child's life did she want to pay.

But Lord Frey had a plan, a very nasty one

He killed her first son, he thought it was fun.

Cat was in shock, she knew not what to do,

She grabbed a dagger, she would use it too.

She found Frey's grandson, his name was Jinglebells,

She wanted to send him down to jinglehells.

As she held him there by the throat,

Here's what she said, and I quote:

I really do not like your town,

But I will not put this dagger down,

She said to Lord Frey, she said with a frown.

A son for a son, suggested Cat,

But Walder Frey laughed at that.

She had no choice, she had to act.

Lord Walder had refused her pact.

She slit his throat, she slit it good,

She slit his throat, as hard as she could.

Her next thoughts were of her man Ned,

And now she would join him as one of the dead.

------

Author: lordofthesox

_____________________________________________________________________________

Here comes Tom Clancy! It's short, and it's slightly marked by me reading The Sum of all Fears atm, but whatever.

As Joffrey entered the Council Room, he could see that everyone was busy. A

map was spread out on the table, and Tywin was studying it frantically.

"Morning, Your Highness. Haven't you slept well? You look awful." More awful

than usual, he didn't add. Joffrey poured himself some coffee, and proceeded

to bend down over the map as well. "Do we know when Stannis is coming?" "In

fact we do. FLOWERS sent a new report to Varys last week informing us about

the planned invasion, but the Spider just isn't giving us as much intel as

we could use nowadays". Cersei entered just in time to hear Tywin's last

statement, pouring herself a cup of coffee as well. "Varys is beginning to

be old. And not to mention the fact that he informed Kevan before talking to

Joffrey! He should be relieved of his command." "Cersei dear, there is no

need to worry", Tywin proclaimed. "Our fleet has been armed with this new

special arrow technology that we stole from an Asshai factory two months

ago. Not to mention the fact that we have seeing tubes, and will spot

Stannis' fleet long before he spots ours. Deny them information, enough not

to see the chain, and we will trap them and eliminate them."

------

Author: Nevyn

_____________________________________________________________________________

ASoiAf as if written by Ernest Hemingway...

Tyrion sat down on a bench in the hold of the ship. The great blue sea was

knocking the ship around like a drunken boxer, and Tyrion felt like getting

quite tight now himself. He poured a tall glass of brandy. The old brandy,

that had never failed him. He sighed and let the brandy take his mind back

to days of his youth. He tried hard to remember, tried to see the tall trees

swaying in the wind, the high hills around the Rock. He had been happy then.

Then it came back, an old memory. He saw himself as he and Jaime rode about

their ancestral holdings. It was so easy to see it in his head now. He still

remembered with great clarity how they had found Tysha then. Even then, she

had been beautiful. She had loved him. He had thought it was true, then he

had learned otherwise, then once more learned it to be true. It was no good.

Lies, everything seemed one person's lie or another's. Damn them all to

hell, he thought. They all are all liars, even the good ones. He took

another big pull of the brandy and slammed the glass down. He stared out the

ship's porthole and it began to rain.

------

Author: Jacen Stormblade

_____________________________________________________________________________

Here's a Poe...

As Tyrion sat in his chambers

Deeply thinking, almost sleeping

He heard a creeping outside his door

'Tis the whore, that I adore,

That I hear outside my chambers doors

Only this, and nothing more.

In the moon arose a vision

Ghastly dead and bathed in crimson,

Of a king of yore

Clad for hunting, yet no more

Quote King Robert "I got Gored"

Only this and nothing more....

Or Lovecraft

The other was hideous in it appearance, a monstrous thing from out of time

and space. Its skin was coated with a putrid growth, that glowed in the

darkness, revealing its gaunt, malformed figure. A slimy broth erupted from

where its mouth should have been, and it reach out of the shadows with

elongated limbs that bent and twisted in ways not of this earth. As a scream

tore from Jon's throat, he became aware of a deep hum coming from the

creature, a low, primordial tune, that was never meant to come from any

living creature. The sound grew louder, a litany of death and madness,

threatening to pull him under its dark current, and devour his very being....

------

Author: Tall Man 13

_____________________________________________________________________________

Monty Python

Gregor: 'Tis but a scratch'

Oberyn: 'A scratch? I've pinned you to the bleedin' ground'

Gregor: 'No you haven't'

Oberyn: 'Well what's that bloomin' great spear doing then?'

Gregor: 'I'm invincible'

Oberyn: 'You're a psycho'

or

Oberyn: 'So, Tyrion, your sister - does she 'go'? Eh? Nudge, nudge. Wink,

wink'

------

Author: dajamieson

_____________________________________________________________________________

And now FRANZ KAFKA!

When he woke up one morning from troubled dreams, Ser Waymar Royce discovered

he'd become a wight.

This was most bothersome for Waymar, as he was a common sort of man who

believed in doing his job, and hardly held with age-old wars to destroy the

race of men. Such things were foolishness, and he wondered why people would

dare persist in them. Still he could not deny that his hands were black, and

his eyes flickered blue, and his body most certainly felt stiff and cold,

and so, with a heavy heart, he went to see his dark masters, the Others.

The Others were sitting a dark room, with red floors, and black walls.

"You're late," announced one.

"I didn't know I was to come here at all,†stated Waymar.

"You always knew. You were born knowing. When you went to bed at nights,

this meeting was at the back of your mind. You planned ahead on it. But you

have arrived late, and now you try to deny it, and so you claim that did not

know," stated another Other.

"You are a fool and weakling," said another Other. "I despise you - yes,

despise you! You fill my heart with loathing!"

The first Other glanced at him again. "You are to go to Castle Black."

Waymar nodded. Yes, he would go to Castle Black, and there, perhaps, he

would slaughter those who opposed him, and the world would again make sense.

"Which way to Castle Black?"

The second Other laughed. "He wants to know the way to Castle Black." After

this, all the Others started to laugh in unison.

Eventually, the third Other spoke. "There is no Castle Black. There never

was a Castle Black. You imagined Castle Black."

Waymar felt colour rising to his cheeks, or would have, if his blood could

flow. "But you told me to go to Castle Black!"

The first Other shook its head. "We said no such thing. My how you lie! Has

there ever been such a liar as you...?"

------

Author: Rhialto the Marvellous

_____________________________________________________________________________

If Jane Austen had written ASOIAF

It was Lady Oleanna Tyrell's habit to partake of tea in the Great Hall every

day at 5pm. During this time she would gather around her those of her

relatives who were most in need of good matchmaking advice - for it is a

truth commonly acknowledged that a young woman of fine birth and finer

manners is most often in need of a helping hand where potential husbands are

concerned.

On this particular day her niece Margaery Tyrell, a young woman of uncommon

breeding and wit, sat next to Ned Stark's heir Sansa. Oleanna viewed Sansa

with something approaching distaste. It wasn't that the girl was lacking in

looks, indeed she had distinct possibilities, but something about her was

wrong. Perhaps, Lady Tyrell mused, it was true that these Northern girls

were bred differently - instead of a prince possibly Sansa would be happier

with a fine upstanding gentleman farmer. She ran the possibilities over in

her mind before alighting on the one she thought would best suit.

Delicately fingering the plate of honey cakes in front of her, she began her

assault.

"Sansa my dear - have you given any more thought to the plan we suggested."

Sansa stared wistfully round the hall.

"Lord Joffrey is a fine man my lady," she said. "But."

Margaery leaned over. "Don't fret, dear Sansa, we understand that a man of

Joffrey's uncommon good looks and fine manners might seem overwhelming at

first."

Oleanna held up one graceful hand. "Enough Margaery dear," she said employing

the commanding tone of voice that had so swiftly silenced the King himself.

"I have given some thought to your plight and come up with the perfect

solution. My grandson, I feel, would suit. He is a kind man and one whom I

feel in time you could come to love."

A slow blush spread over Sansa's cheeks. "Oh your ladyship how wonderful,"

she said. "I never dreamed that you would so clearly understand. I will

endeavour to do my best to make Ser Loras a fine wife."

"Silence child." Oleanna sighed inwardly. The girl was clearly more stupid

than even she had imagined.

------

Author: sarah

_____________________________________________________________________________

And now--Alfred Bester...

The Demolished Dragon

Jaime Lannister's eyes flashed defiant on his savage face, a beast of prey

in the shape of a man. His hand gripped Rorge's throat. "Tell me who made

the order! And what are these Dragons I keep hearing about...?"

Rorge squirmed uncomfortable. "Don't know man, no. Keep me in the dark. I

just do job, see..."

Jaime snarled. "Damn you, you must know something..."

Rorge whimpered. "Hoat, man, Hoat. He do it, it him!"

Jaime shook his head. "No. Hoat's dead, and anyway he lacked the guts for

that kind of work. This order had a purpose..."

Rorge winced, the strain visible. "Don't know man, don't know..." Suddenly,

his head jerked back like a puppet on a string. There was a sickening crack,

and then he was dead.

Jaime's eyes darted around, wary. "Who's there? Answer me!"

An almost bodiless voice came back to him. Merely an interested party, Ser

Lannister. Do go on with your work.

Jaime ran towards where the voice seemed to come from. "Damn it, do you

think I don't know what you are? I've felt you before..."

Yes, you have. In Harrenhal. And then again in King's Landing. But don't let

that fact cloud your judgement...

Jaime stopped and screamed. "It was you wasn't it? You're the one who had

them maim me!"

There was a sort of rustling that might have served as a chuckle. Very

astute, Ser Lannister. But also incomplete...

"What are you saying?" Jaime snarled, looking desperately for an opponent he

could fight.

The clever man never reveals all his tricks. You should know that. The voice

paused. Though as you've no doubt realized, it involves dragons...

Jaime realized quickly that the presence was now gone. Choking back a cry of

rage he began to move again. So his enemy wanted to play games? Well, let

him. His agony had remade him into something more powerful than before, and

he had sworn that he would have his revenge.

Jaime walked ahead, not knowing where he would have to go, and not caring.

Far away, Bran opened his eyes. "He does not suspect. He has only the merest

inklings of what we intend..."

Tyrion glanced at him, worried. "This is a dangerous move, I'd say. Jaime

Lannister is far too unwieldy to be used so lightly."

Bran smirked at him, a cynical expression on his face. "Are you sure you're

not letting personal feelings cloud your judgement, Tyrion?"

Tyrion shrugged. "He is my brother, but that's not what worries me. Jaime is

all temper, no discipline..."

Dany nodded. "I agree. We've spent too much time on the Dragons to risk

this. If this goes wrong - then we have nothing left..."

Bran shook his head. "We have no choice. Jaime is what is needed to unlock

the Dragon's powers. He is an unstable tool, yes, but an unstable tool is

what's needed for this job." Bran leaned back in his chair. "Besides, I've

included a safety." He shut his eyes. "Arya...?"

Yes, brother.

"Is he still in your sights..."

Say the word and he is dead...

Bran nodded. "Very good sister. That is all." He opened his eyes, and

regarded his fellows amusedly. "It takes an animal to kill an animal, does

it not?" His expression straightened. "This may have begun with vengeance,

but it's moved beyond that. Jaime is the trigger." A cold smile crossed his

face. "And we hold the gun..."

In the distance, a wolf howled.

------

Author: Rhialto the Marvellous

_____________________________________________________________________________

Well, here goes a piece written by a group of "female novelists" headed by Barbara Delinsky and Danielle Steel.

Chapter 1

Brienne gave a last critical look to her outfit. The pink sateen lay loosely

around her small breasts, embraced her waist tightly and then fall to her

feet in generous folds. Brienne acquired this dress by chance, and now it

was the only thing that she could wear for the occasion. The hand-made

Myrish lace decorated the bodice generously, and made it unnecessary to add

any other accessories. So from jewellery Brienne left only a small bracelet

with pink garnets given to her by her father. It matched the colour of her

dress marvellously.

It was an important event, meeting with the bear. Brienne wondered for a

moment if Jaime will be there, but than she was angry at herself for her own

silliness. She knew very well, that Jaime had left Harrenhal yesterday.

Besides, even if he did not, he cared not for her, that much was obvious.

"Remember, he saw you all naked, and he acted like you were a piece of

furniture? No, Brienne, you should stop dreaming about THAT man. He is rude,

impossible and he is in love with that fabulous Cersei," said Brienne to

herself and went on with her chores. Indeed, who can afford to dream of

Jaime, when they have a bear to face?

Chapter 2.

Jaime did not know why he went back to Harrenhal. May be it was that vision

of Brienne's fabulous body in the dim bathhouse that he caught by chance,

may be it was something else, he did not realize yet. So he was back in

Harrenhal. It was not long before he found Brienne, of course surrounded by

other men's attention as she was fighting a bear in the bear pit. Jaime

found himself admiring the woman again. He was getting used to living with

that admiration. And she had fabulous body too. One can say immediately that

she spent long hours in a gym. Jaime did not notice how he jumped down the

bear pit too involved into his fantasies about Brienne. The fantasies he

should not have had. After all he was a Kingslayer and in love with that

fabulous Cersei - a wonderful woman like Brienne deserved more.

------

Author: Domi

_____________________________________________________________________________

Here we go, folks, "ASOIAF" as interpreted by Emily Brontà«:

Sansa Stark's unearthly beauty was only enhanced by the soft melancholy in

her eyes, which seemed to gaze through objects, as though she were not

looking at them at all, but at some distant scene yet to come.

Sandor crossed the room in two big strides, then took her in his arms and

covered her face with kisses, thousands of kisses, more kisses than he had

ever given or received in his lifetime, though he found it agony to look

upon her face, the face he had loved for so long and yet would never have,

as she was married to another.

'I shall never be at peace,' said Sansa, 'for as long as we are parted peace

shall never find me. And parted we shall be, for I shall die.'

He wrenched free of her and ground his teeth. 'You deserve death, for you

had no right to refuse me, to marry another man. You are cruelty itself, and

false.'

Sansa moaned and was overcome with a paroxysm of the heart, and covered her

face to hide the livid emotion which was plainly written upon it. 'You're

not the Sandor I knew, the Sandor who is captured inside my soul, as I am

enclosed inside this prison. Soon I shall escape into the glorious world

beyond this one, where I shall be so far and above you that you will seem

most insignificant. I shall love you yet; do not be sullen.'

Sandor caressed her as she clasped his neck. 'Truly you must be possessed by

R'hllor,' cried he savagely as he looked upon the bloodless vindictiveness

on her white face. 'You torment me now, and will even when you are taken

from me and buried deep within the earth. The words you say to me now will

haunt me for all time; may YOU not rest so long as I am living!'

'Let me alone, let me alone,' sobbed Sansa.

'WHY did you despise and betray me; I, who was your own heart? No god could

have parted us, no force in this or any other realm, excepting YOUR own

will. Haunt me then, as the murdered to their murderers, do not abandon me

to this abyss in which I cannot find you!'

He dashed his head until the blood flowed and howled like some great hound,

and his lover observed that he was quite beyond being consoled or quieted.

Sansa held him as tightly as her strength would allow, a mad resolution in

her mind, her tears washing his face.

'You must not go,' sobbed she, 'for this is the last time! I have done wrong

and I am paying for it! I shall die, I shall die!'

------

Author: Nichol Storm

_____________________________________________________________________________

JOFFREY I (PART 2)

Act 5 Scene ii

Enter Littlefinger

Littlefinger :

To both the sisters have I sworn my love,

But only one of them stayed constant to me.

A pity it's the one I never cared for!

Which of them did I take? Both? One? Well...Lysa -

I knocked her up. But was it Cat that first time?

I thought so then - it's why I challenged Brandon.

(What a romantic fool calf love had made me!)

But if it was, why did she spurn me later?

Now I think back, I really can't be certain.

(Well, it was dark....I'd had a few too many.....)

In any case, Cat went and married Eddard -

After old Aerys barbecued his father

And Brandon learnt that threatening a Dragon

In public is a very bad idea -

So in revenge I "leaked" to all and sundry

That I had had her first! And Hoster Tully,

He wouldn't even let me marry Lysa,

The pompous prat! She went to old Jon Arryn,

With lots of Tully archers as a sweetener.

But I showed them! Oh no... hang on a minute -

That revelation's for a later volume!

(The GUCT crowd have got an inkling

But Martin still has quite a few surprises

Tucked up his sleeve, and plenty of red herrings -

My money is on him to keep them guessing.)

Where was I? Oh yes! Lysa came in handy

With my career, and then, when I was ready,

I tipped the wink to her to off her husband

And write that letter to the Starks accusing

The Lannisters - and all the rest is history!

I really have been very very clever.

Cut to the chase! I've got my hands on Sansa,

Who is the spitting image of her mother

At the same age - it's really quite uncanny -

And much to my surprise the little ninny

Is causing me some very odd sensations.

Does this derail my plans? To take young Sansa

Exasperates, makes mad her aunty Lysa

(Though she's been pretty flaky now for ages

In any case, as well as fat and maudlin,

And doting on her wretched puling offspring)

And hardly shall I carry out my side,

Her husband being alive...but then he won't be,

Thanks to the Tyrells, so that just leaves Lysa.

Do I still need her? What about young Robert?

And Sansa's masquerading as my bastard,

Which could prove awkward. Well, let's wait and see.

I trust the inspiration of the moment.

Though deeplaid schemes are good, they're hardly needed

When everyone around me is so stupid.

I've got it all now - title, money, land,

Revenge on those who slighted me before,

And this is just the start. From no-one to...

King perhaps? As I 'm sure you'll all agree

I've earned it! Oh, the cleverness of me!

------

Author: The Sea King's Daughter

_____________________________________________________________________________

WAITING FOR STANNIS By Samuel Beckett...

(A stage with a large tree. TYRION and POD stand next to it, dressed as

bums.)

POD. Why are we here?

TYRION. We're waiting for Stannis.

POD. What if he doesn't come?

TYRION. He'll come.

POD. But what if he doesn't.

TYRION. Then we'll wait for him tomorrow.

POD. You said that yesterday.

TYRION. I did not!

POD. Yes, you did.

TYRION. All right, I did, but only because you asked me yesterday.

POD. I did not.

TYRION. Yes, you did.

POD. What will we do when he gets here?

TYRION. Kill him.

POD. What?

TYRION. We'll kill him.

POD. Well then why would he come if he knows he'll die?

TYRION. He doesn't know that. In fact, he thinks he'll kill us.

POD. And what if he does?

TYRION. What?

POD. Kill us.

TYRION. He won't.

POD. But what if he does?

(Tyrion shrugs)

TYRION. Well, it will be a change of scenery.

(Pod glares at him.)

POD. Why'd you say that?

TYRION. I thought it was clever.

POD. Well it wasn't.

TYRION. Someone's coming.

(Bronn and Varys walk onstage. Bronn is leading Varys on a rope.)

BRONN. Why are you on my land?

TYRION. We're waiting for Stannis.

BRONN. And why--oh, bugger all this. I'm the wrong character for this sort

of nonsense...

(He walks offstage, and pushes Littlefinger on. Littlefinger grabs Varys's

rope, and glances at Tyrion.)

LITTLEFINGER. And why are you waiting for Stannis?

TYRION. To kill him.

LITTLEFINGER. What?

TYRION. To kill him.

LITTLEFINGER. What?

TYRION. To kill him!

LITTLEFINGER. What?

TYRION. TO KILL HIM!

LITTLEFINGER. Well, you don't have to yell.

(He walks off, yanking Varys after him. Varys is annoyed)

VARYS. But I didn't do my speech...

LITTLEFINGER. Just forget it.

VARYS. Can I at least have a line?

LITTLEFINGER. No.

(They walk off. Davos enters.)

DAVOS. Stannis sent me to tell you he won't be coming.

TYRION. Have we met?

DAVOS. Of course not. We haven't even shared a scene.

(He exits. Pod looks at Tyrion.)

POD. Can we go now?

TYRION. No.

POD. Why not?

TYRION. Because we're wait- oh, Bronn had the right idea. Let's go Pod.

There's a brothel and a bottle of wine with my name on it...

(They exit.)

FIN

------

Author: Rhialto the Marvellous

_____________________________________________________________________________

If Matt Stone and Trey Parker wrote ASOIAF:

"Oh my God! They killed Ned!"

"You bastards!"

"Oh my God! They killed Robb!"

"You bastards!"

Oh my God! They killed Oberyn!"

"You Bastards!"

Jon Scowls, "I had nothing to do with it! Anyway they need me now to avenge

my father and my half brother, so screw you guys, I'm going home!"

Bran looks thoughtful, "You know, I learned something today. It doesn't

matter if my legs will ever work, what matters is me trying my best to learn

to use the abilities I have. So I can go and totally destroy the

Lannisters!"

"Errrrrlivnalie, Hodor!"

------

Author: Drawkcabi

_____________________________________________________________________________

A Song of Ice and Fire by the late (and great) Douglas Adams.

A Freerider's guide to the Seven Kingdoms (Don't Panic!)

In the unfashionable northern end of Westeros live a family that go by the

name of Stark. There are many things odd about this family when compared

with the rest of Westeros. Firstly, they like the cold, which is strange in

itself, and secondly, they value honour, which is equally strange if only

because it is as equally bad for your health as the cold. In fact, maesters

in the Citadel (living in the hot, as normal people should) have shown that

there is a clear link health wise between valuing honour and beating

yourself over the head with a spiked club while riding on the back of a

shark.

This family's head is a man named Eddard Stark. He looks a lot like any

other man of Westeros, with brown hair, a brown beard and strong arms for

when he had to dispose of deserters, poachers and criminals. i.e. Not anyone

to lose sleep over. What makes him especially like many people in Westeros

is that he is missing a head. Not that this is a big problem, however,

because were the head and body reunited it would not result in the

spontaneous reanimation of his corpse, as even the Maesters with their

limited medical knowledge can tell you.

Bran is the second smallest of the household and formerly liked to spend

his free time climbing about on the rooftops. This activity came to an

abrupt end when he lost the use of his legs, as annoying to him as it was to

Hodor, who then had to carry a boy around on his back for the better part of

a day. Even a man as mentally handicapped as Hodor would be hard pushed not

to notice how Bran is taking advantage of him.

Most recently, Catelyn, the Lady of the House, is often at a loss for words.

This may be partly due to the gaping knife wound she suffered in her neck,

but many people have theorised that this may simply be her way of realising

that many of her past problems have been due to the fact that she could

talk, and now, given a second chance of life in Westeros, has vowed never to

make the same mistakes again. In earlier, happier times she liked to

light candles under statues and worry a lot.

Robb is the oldest of the family and stuck to the Stark tradition of

worshipping trees. Another Stark tradition Robb has stuck to is dying at a

young age. He is certainly his father's son. However, it could be argued

that he actually improved upon his father, because though he did lose his

human head, he gained a wolf one in its place. Though, admittedly, this

didn't help him much in the present, it shows promising things for the

future.

Sansa Stark is the oldest girl of the family. What little space she has in

her head is filled with songs and stories about knights. Though not directly

following on with most Stark traditions (preferring to worship statues

rather than trees, as any rational person would) it is often said by many

that she doesn't have a head on her shoulders. And though not willing to

contribute herself to this tradition, she nonetheless tried her utmost to

make sure her father did, though to be fair she felt a bit bad about it

afterwards.

Arya Stark is the adventurer of the family and enjoys long treks around the

Riverlands. She is often mistaken for a boy and this could be the reason

that she has decided to become a Faceless man, mistakenly believing she was

to become a Headless Man and thinking to do her bit for the Stark family,

being jealous of Sansa's empty headedness and Robb's wolf head.

Rickon liked to scream and set his wolf on people. He enjoyed the crypts of

Winterfell (though his fondness of the dead is premature even for a male

Stark). At present his position is unknown, but it has been said by a few

(well, a couple. Well, one) that Rickon and Osha are in fact Hodor in

disguise. This would explain Hodor's size, if nothing else. The holes in his

twist can be put down to being attention freaks, and not appreciating a good

thing when you see it.

Remember, Don't Panic!

------

Author: VarysTheSpider

_____________________________________________________________________________

If Raymond Chandler had written ASOIAF

It was a colder than a witch's teat the day I rode into Winterfell. The sort

of cold that chills you to the bone and leaves you on your knees and begging

for mercy. So cold that as I drew my greatcoat

non potresti postarlo ad un moderatore o a qualcuno che possa tradurlo?

Ciao Howland, spero che qualcuno si prenda la briga di tradurre questa roba che per quanto ci capiso....limitatamente al mio striminzito inglese è parecchio divertente..... sono in pratica delle parodie di ASOIF, senza offendere il mitico Zio George.... quando si ama qualcosa ci si puo' scherzare anche sù..... non credi? Nella discussione seconda parte c'è un brano interpretativo alla Matt Groening (l'ideatore dei Simpson)

che deve fare parecchio ridere per quel poco che sono riuscito a capirci.

Per ora i Moderatori non hanno scritto niente.... spero che ci sia voglia di un po' di humor in questo forum.

Purtroppo direi che il 98% di quello che si puo' trovare sul web relativo alle cronache di Martin è solo in inglese. Noi Italiani siamo parecchio indietro.... a quanto ne so per ora ci sono solo tre siti su Martin.

Ciao

è vero non ci sono molti siti. il materiale scarseggia, tu sei tra quelli che si sono dati più da fare, hai postato molto materiale inedito. per questo tanto di cappello.

Per chi guarda Southpark c'è questo pezzettino tra quelli trovati da Gil:

ATTENZIONE QUA SOTTO PESANTI SPOILERS DE :IL GRANDE INVERNO , I FIUMI DELLA GUERRA E IL PORTALE DELLE TENEBRE

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"Oh mio Dio, hanno ucciso Ned!"

"Brutti Bastardi !!"

"Oh mio Dio, hanno ucciso Robb!"

"Brutti Bastardi !!"

"Oh mio Dio, hanno ucciso Oberyn!"

"Brutti Bastardi !!"

Jon Scowls (l'accigliato) : " Non ho niente a che fare con questo! Comunque hanno bisogno di me a casa per vendicare mio padre e il mio fratellastro, vi saluto ragazzi, vado a casa!"

Bran guarda pensieroso: "Sai, ho imparato qualcosa oggi. Non importa se le mie gambe non funzioneranno mai più, quello che conta è che farò del mio meglio per imparare ad usare le abilità  che ho. Così potrò distruggere definitivamente i Lannister!!"

"Errrrrlivnalie, Hodor!"

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Ciao!!

Ho trovato il sito delle parodie inglesi. Tra quelle postate da Gil-Galad non c'è quella di Matt Groening anche se lui scrive il contrario

Probabilmente perchè lo spazio per postare è limitato.

Rimedio io, visto che è davvero divertente, almeno per chi apprezza i Simpson oltre che Martin.

Spoiler Il Grande Inverno

Scene:

A grossly overweight and bald Ned sits under the heart tree, patiently

waiting for the arrival of Cersei. He is eating a club sandwich.

Cersei arrives.

Ned's Brain: Don't tell her you know about her incest.

Ned: I know about your incest. Grrr!

Ned: D'oh!

Ned's Brain: OK, that one slipped past, just don't tell her you're going to

tell Robert.

Ned: I'm going to tell Robert.

Ned: D'oh!

Ned's Brain: I'm getting out of here.

------

Author: The Prentice Boy

Che tradotto suona più o meno:

Scena: un Ned calvo e nettamente sovrappeso è seduto sotto un albero cuore, aspettando pazientemente l'arrivo Cersei. Sta mangiando un grosso pannino imbottito.

Arriva Cersei.

Cervello di Ned: Non dirle che sai del suo incesto!

Ned: Cersei, so del tuo incesto. Grrr!

Ned: D'ho!

Cervello di Ned: OK, questa ti è scappata, basta non dirle che lo dirai a Robert.

Ned: Lo dirò a Robert.

Ned: D'ho!

Cervello di Ned: Io me ne vado.

Fine spoilers

Ehm, nessuno è riuscito a tradurle in italiano... non c'è un anima pia... prer favore...!!!

Uahahahh quella dei simpson è stupenda!!!!!!!!

Bwahahahah sto ancora ridendo!!!!!!!!!!

Complimeti come sempre a Gil.... ma qualcuno sarebbe cosi gnetile da tradurlo?

molto simpatico.....l'ho tradotto,quando avro tempo forse lo posto!

Spisciosi! anche se non ho avuto il tempo di leggerli tutti, e ho letto Brooks tanto di quel tempo fa che non mi ricordo il suo stile abbastanza bene da ridere della parodia. mi piacerebbe tradurre qualcosa, ma già  questo post lo vivo con rimorsi di coscienza...

tesi!

Qa'pla!

bwahahahahahahahah!XD

quella sui Simpson é 1 collasso globale!XDDD

e pure quella su Samuel Beckett!XDD

complimenti a Gil

mauahah ce ne sono certe di fantastiche!jean austen e tom clancy sono fantastici ..anche tolkien non è male

per tradurli non so..non ho molto tempo questi giorni..magari i più corti...ora vedo!

Secondo me i più belli sono Beckett e E.A. Poe!

Ma anche Clancy rende...

Ancora nessuna anima pia che li traduca?

ok inizio con tom clancy..ho provato a date un tono "militare" ed un lessico simile all'originale, spero che il risultato sia decente

tom clancy:

Come Joffrey entrò nella Sala del Concilio, notò che erano tutti occupati. Una mappa era distesa sul tavolo, e Tywin la studiava freneticamente. "'Giorno, Vostra Altezza. Non hai dormito bene? Hai un aspetto terribile." Più terribile del solito, non aggiunse. Joffrey si versò del caffè, e si chinò anche lui sulla mappa. "Sappiamo quando arriverà  Stannis?" "In effetti si. FLOWERS ha mandato un rapporto a Varys la scorsa settimana, informandoci circa l'invasione pianificata, ma il Ragno non ci sta passando tante informazioni quante potrebbero esserci necessarie di questi tempi". Cersei entrò giusto in tempo per sentire l'ultima affermazione di Tywin, versandosi anche lei una tazza di caffè. "Varys sta diventando vecchio. Senza contare che ha informato Kevan prima di parlare a Joffrey! Dovrebbe essere destituito." "Cersei cara, non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi", disse Tywin. "La nostra flotta è stata equipaggiata con queste speciali frecce di nuova ideazione che abbiamo rubato da una fabbrica di Asshai due mesi fa. Senza contare che abbiamo cannocchiali, e individueremo la flotta di Stannis molto prima che lui individui la nostra. Non facciamo pervenire loro informazioni, abbastanza per non vedere la catena, e li intrappoleremo ed elimineremo tutti quanti!"