Adapted from George R.R. Martin’s award-winning A Song of Ice and Fire novels, HBO’s record-breaking hit Game of Thrones returns for its sixth season this Sunday, and fans around the globe couldn’t be more excited to once again watch as their favorite characters are gruesomely killed off. For our readers who want to celebrate this joyous occasion the right way, the Record has created a ten-step guide to throwing your friends a truly unforgettable GoT premiere party.
- Advertise your party by creating an epic trailer that splices together quick video cuts of your friends chatting about the weather at last year’s premiere, cherry-picked sound bites of the eventual awkward silence that ruined the mood, and background music ripped straight from the Inception soundtrack. Don’t worry about whether the trailer answers any lingering questions; focus only on generating hype and confusion.
- Dress up as your favorite character from the show. This is your chance to show your friends that Jon Snow costume you’ve been shelling out embarrassing amounts of money to make from scratch! For bonus points, reflect the fact that showers don’t exist in the Thrones universe by coating your skin in grime and feces.
- Decorate your common room to look like a real tavern from the Middle Ages. If you want to turn off the lights in favor of candles, make sure you cover your smoke detector. If you’re going for accuracy over discretion, recruiting some prostitutes to drunkenly sing sea shanties in the background is strongly encouraged. And if you’re interested in a decrepit look, remember that your walls may already have wood rot!
- You’ll need to cook a full medieval meal to wow your friends with a period-appropriate experience. Become a farmer. Lovingly raise livestock and plant a variety of vegetables. Avoid being slain by bands of robbers long enough to cook up some honeyed chicken, pigeon pie, and, of course, lemon cakes. But above all else, it is essential that you leave ample time for slow-cooking your mutton chops to perfection.
- Don’t invite series creator George R.R. Martin this time. Last year, he was late and kept telling you he was “almost there,” ultimately delaying the start of your party by, like, three hours.
- Do invite your high school mascot with the dragon costume, since that’s an awesome addition to the party. We mean, it’s true that he never takes the thing off and supposedly wears it to furry conventions, but come on, a dragon’s a dragon. Just be sure you’re not the one who has to sit next to him when the show starts.
- When your guests arrive, be courteous and address them all as “m’lord”, “m’lady”, or “you dirty peasant.” People love that. Also, when they politely decline that delicious mutton you spent four hours preparing, be the bigger person and offer them that wine you’ve been saving for a special occasion. While your friends drink, sullenly begin to eat the chops yourself.
- Once the show begins, be sure to pause every few minutes so you can educate your friends on how the scene they’re watching was so much better in the books. As host, it’s your duty to let your guests know that what they’re watching is derivative drivel compared to the source material. For some unknown reason, they’ll keep drinking your wine.
- Save yourself the potential embarrassment and have a pillow on hand to discreetly cover your lap during the inevitable gratuitous sex scenes. Bring another pillow for your furry friend, as the show’s dragons are usually nude as well.
- Once the show is over, discuss it with your friends and postulate what will happen next week. As you do this, look on as the poison you’d slipped into your friends’ “special wine” finally takes effect in a cruel and horrifying twist. As they gasp for air, remove your mask and reveal that you were actually George R.R. Martin the whole time! The last thing your guests will see is your face cackling in perverse delight as you bite into another delicious chop. Looking upon the horror you’ve wrought, however, you’ll realize that you don’t feel an ounce of guilt. After all, you spent all day preparing that delicious mutton, and goddamn if it isn’t cooked to perfection.
—M. Abuzalaf and A. Ringlein