Tyrion Lannister's life had gone to shit very quickly.
He didn't like King's Landing at all and he outright despised his fool of agood brother. Not that the Realm was any better off with Joffrey, as its King, after Robert's death. Still, he knew things and he could calculate, because the board had been set and he knew the rules of the Game, much better, than most. Now, it all had gone to shit.
There were three Targaryens alive, united with three dragons at their beck and call.
The Riverlands and the North rose in their support immediately. (And since Rhaenys was alive- and considering the alliance, the North and Dorne had- the Dornish would soon follow.)
Stannis had been captured and Dragonstone had been cut off, likely to aid the Targaryens the moment they were near King's Landing, courtesy of House Velaryon. In hindsight, Robert had every reason to be mistrustful with the bannermen of Dragonstone... Not that they could allow wasting men and resources, trying to secure the island. Not now, when the Targaryens had control of the Realm's breadbasket.
AStark had married aTyrell bringing them into the fold.
And Jaime had been sighted with the Targaryens, as the personal Kingsguard of one Jaehaerys Targaryen.
Yes, Tyrion decided, if Jaime had willingly joined the Targaryens- and so far, it seemed he had indeed joinedwillingly- then the world was going to shit.
He needed adrink and awhore, the Seven damn what his father had said about his vices. He rubbed his face, turning toward Cathayaya's brothel.
'What's next? Some sorry fool tells me that the grumpkins and snakrs beyond the Wall actually exist?'
The world had gone to shit or Jaime had become stark raving mad, from all those hours of standing by and not fucking awoman for years.
For some reason, he would have bet his money on the second option.