A Song of Fire(place) and (N)ice (chair)

Tim of Task and Samantha of Mission arrived at Winterfell... I mean, Herne Hill, to dismantle Mr K's cushty throne and carry it downstairs, along with an old fireplace.

"Hah hah!" said Tim, "this shall be done in the shake of a dragon's tail".

"For sure", replied Samantha, "we shall finish quicker than Sean Bean dies in every programme ever".

Turns out, like Jon Snow, they knew nothing.

They unscrewed the screws they could see. Nothing happened. They flipped the chair upside down. Nothing happened. They unscrewed a bolt in the side. Nothing happened. Tim pretty much climbed into the chair. Nothing happened.

After a while, Mrs K was worried that she had been sent fools instead of knights. But Tim and Samantha rallied; "there is only one thing we say to a chair who thinks it can defeat us – not today!".

So armed with trusty spanner and screwdriver they attacked. Bolts fell. Screws tumbled. Lining was ripped. Wires were cut. The chair was disarmed and soon the Battle of Dismantle was won.

But the task was not yet complete. They still had to carry the chair and an old fireplace down two flights of stairs, ready for the Small Council to collect. With Tim at one end and Samantha at the other, they carried their enemy out of Mr K's home.

"Hold the door!" said Samantha.
"Hold the door!"
"Holdthedoor!"
"Holddedoor!"
"HOLDEDOR!"
"HOLDOR!"
"HODOR!"
"HODOR!"
"HODOR!"

And Tim did, so that was ok.

Downstairs the throne was laid to rest and the old fireplace quickly joined it. Mr and Mrs K were grateful, sending us both on our way with a regal wave.

And now the night gathers and tracking on my running watch begins.