Drinking Game

This is a storythread by Baurus of the story title, Purple Days, in which Joffrey is looping back into time, 
suffering countless events and dying until he realizes that life is more than the Seven Vales and Kings Landings and goes out adventuring..

Excerpt from CH  11

Joffrey’s carefully thought out timetable was blown to pieces when the Umbers managed, not entirely against his will, to make him stay there for a full week. Things only got worse when a one man rescue party (or half-man rescue party as he liked to call himself) arrived at Last Hearth to “make sure he was alright”.

Things degenerated completely when Tyrion somehow managed to orchestrate a double team drinking competition between him and Joffrey against the Jon’s.

It had been an epic encounter worthy of being written in by a Maester and stored in the Citadel for future generations to come. They must have been surrounded by the entire living population of Last Hearth as the main keep’s table resounded with each empty ale mug crashing against it, Lannisters facing off against the Umbers. Joffrey had completely lost control of his motor skills but had still somehow managed to see the whole thing. He had been taken out early and Tyrion had withstood the Great and Small Jon’s tag team for a straight hour before he drunk the Smalljon under the table and only the Lord of Last Hearth remained, eying the half man as one would survey an enemy commander.

The battlefield was a table filled with empty tankards and barrels, spilled beers, and the bodies of the fallen that had joined one side or the other.

“Uncle… don’t!” had muttered Joffrey, pleading with his groggy eyes from his chair next to the Imp.

Tyrion had a small serene smile as he gripped his tankard, wobbling from side to side. “Lannister’s never quit, Nephew” He said with a faraway look.

The Greatjon nodded with infinite respect as they both toasted their tankards, and downed them in one gulp.

Fifteen seconds passed as the two contestants watched each other, and the hall was silent as everybody looked on in expectation.

Suddenly, the Greatjon rolled his eyes and his head bumped against the table, fast asleep.

Tyrion, face absolutely serious, raised both his arms in silent victory, not having the strength to say anything.

The keep went absolutely fucking mad.


TBC


Art © Me
Characters © George RR Martin
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