[winces painfully] Aw shit, I think I'm... I think I'm gonna faint.
George R.R. Martin: It's the Red Wedding, isn't it? You hate how I killed everyone off?
Butters Stotch: Uh, no sir, we just really need to know about the dragons, but they never seem to show up.
George R.R. Martin: Oh, they're coming; the dragons are on their way.
Butters Stotch: When?
George R.R. Martin: You really wanna know?
Butters Stotch: Please, it's urgent!
George R.R. Martin: All right. King Joffrey is still at King's Landing, but there is a young blacksmith who wakes up one morning with a plan. And his weiner gently hangs down between his legs, soft and flaccid, his weiner glistens in the golden sunlight...
Butters Stotch: No! No! Can we just skip the weiner stuff and just get to the dragons?
Scott Malkinson: [winces painfully] Aw shit, I think I'm... I think I'm gonna faint.