Having heard much and more of the popular HBO series Game of Thrones, I decided it was time to journey to Blockbuster and acquire mine own VHS copy of the show. So I loaded up my VHS rack, five of my favorite dogs, and a Costco-sized box of Reese's peanut butter cups into my trusty Honda Accord.
The only Blockbuster still in business is way in the South part of town, so I was in for a long quest. If it wasn't for the sugary sustenance provided by the Reese's cups, the companionship provided by my dogs, and the listening pleasure of "The Lord of the Rings" (unabridged) on cassette tape, I could have very easily gone mad.
Although many long years had passed, Blockbuster was just the way I remembered it. The same off-white plaster, squarish building, with blocky Blockbuster lettering on the front, and the promise of a plethora of VHS tapes within.
"I come seeking the Game of Thrones," I told the young man at the counter. "On VHS. Please bring it to me forthwith."
The young man, who's naming plate said Scott, was a dubious knave, clearly of lowbirth. He squinted his vacant eyeballs and knitted his bushy, bear-like eyebrows and said, "I'm sorry, but we don't carry that on VHS."
"Do not play such games with me, boy," I warned him. "I see your Game of Thrones display right before my own eyes."
"Yeah... those are DVDs. I can rent you a DVD?"
"A DVD? Do you take me for a fool, boy?"
"Hi, I'm Adam, the manager," said a trollish-looking imp-man. He had long snaggly yellow-brown teeth, and two large, watery eyeballs that seemed way too large for his head. "Is there a problem here sir?"
"This guy wants to rent some VHS tapes," said Scott, the idiot.
"Okay. I understand. I am very sorry sir, but we no longer carry VHS tapes at this location," said the imp.
What game were they playing here? A video store without videos. A riddle worthy of my late tutor, Brometheus.
Clearly they were both liars. For some reason they didn't want to rent me the Game of Thrones, but why? What secrets were they trying to conceal?
But I was tired from my long journey. And I was starting to crash from the sugar from all the peanut butter cups I had eaten. And the sound of the dogs howling from the car reminded me that I hadn't fed them or given them water in a great while. I had no choice but to leave this cursed place.
"Psst." On my way out of the Blockbuster, I heard a strange sound. "Psst. Hey buddy. I heard you want a VHS."
There was a hairy, hunchbacked man standing half in the shadows. He was clad in stinking garments. He smelled like a rancid applecart full of old cheese and rotting apples.
"I got all kinds of VHS-es," he whispered breathily. He opened his cloak to reveal a hidden collection of VHS tapes, more than one could count.
"Do you have Game of Thrones?" I asked.
"I have Game of Throats," he replied. "It's basically the same thing."
"Fine, I'll take it." I gave him five dollars.
After watching Game of Throats several times, I have come to the conclusion that the production values are poor, and the script is pretty weak for an HBO series. But despite all that, it is just as captivating as everyone says.
4 out of 5 stars.