What if, on April 1st, we all tune in to HBO to watch season two of Game of Thrones, but after the little static-y HBO thing pops up, the screen goes black and George R.R. Martin appears and says “APRIL FOOLS, BITCHES! Nah, you have to wait six years for season two. G double-R Martin out.”
no, you have no idea what i’m capable of op. i will fly to wherever the hell it is that he lives, break into his home and take a shit on his chest while he sleeps. don’t fuck around with my shows or i’ll shit on you.
