Jon and Sam (at right) hit it off this episode. Courtesy of HBO.Oh—hello, you startled me, I must have fallen asleep. In my defense, I did consume an hour’s worth of Game of Thrones exposition last night, which, as we know, will just knock you right out. Most people prefer NyQuil as their favorite nighttime sedative, but, for me, I find the fourth episode of Game of Thrones to be the perfect “so-you-can-rest medicine.” About halfway through last night’s episode, Littlefinger confronts Ned Stark by saying, “I heard you’re reading a boring book.” I was somewhat shocked when Ned didn’t reply, “Yes, I am. It’s called the script for episode four of Game of Thrones.” This was the first episode that I truly didn’t enjoy. (Well, at least until the very end of the episode, which we’ll get to later.) That’s not to say that there weren’t some important developments. It’s just, enough with the exposition that is so bogged down in heavy dialogue my grandmother could serve it with mashed potatoes. Talk, talk, talk. Blah, blah, blah. I get it: each character has a complicated past and, yes, I am going to sit here and listen to each and every one of their stories. At this point, I can’t really tell you what separates Game of Thrones the television series and Game of Thrones the audio book. Even the most exciting scene of the episode, a simple joust that turned expectedly gory, ended with another long tale of sorrow and woe. Come to think of it, Littlefinger has an odd sense of timing when it comes to storytelling. “Oh, Sansa, I know that was quite disturbing, watching a man die because he was stabbed in the jugular with a piece of wood . . . so let me tell you a story that might be even worse.” Wouldn’t it have been easier (and a lot less passive-aggressive) to just say, “Hey, see that knight who just won the joust? He was mean to his little brother and that little brother now protects Prince Joffrey—so don’t mess with him.”

The relationship between Jon Snow (Kit Harington) and his new friend, Samwell Tarly (John Bradley-West), is interesting. Jon sees something in Samwell—an overweight admitted coward—that the rest of the men guarding the wall obviously don’t see. Later, Jon finds himself literally fighting the other men—and going as far as staging a late-night “Code Red,” if you will—in order to protect Sam. The two bond and form what is so far the most interesting relationship on the show. And they now share secrets: both are virgins. O.K., this probably isn’t the most shocking news in Sam’s case, but Jon’s explanation has to do with his reluctance to bring another bastard—another Snow, referring to his last name, signifying he was born out of wedlock—into the world. Here’s where I get a bit confused: wouldn’t his offspring be named Snow whether he’s married or not?

Ned Stark (Sean Bean), our hero, spent most of the episode reading a boring book. Actually, it was a book of very detailed genealogy that basically seems to be the Wikipedia of King’s Landing. But it also happens to be the last book the former king’s hand was reading before he died, so Ned has a professional interest in its meaning. What it translates to, in terms of television, though, is another episode of Ned doing nothing while walking around looking sad. This week, he’s sad because his youngest daughter, Arya, doesn’t want the traditional lifestyle of producing warrior offspring. She wants to be a warrior herself and, in the interim, seems to be practicing the crane kick from The Karate Kid. (My money is on Arya in the King’s Landing All Valley Tournament.)

My first impulse is to refer to Peter Dinklage, by far the best thing on this show, as a “scene stealer.” But the more I think about it, the more I don’t believe what Dinklage is doing can truly be described as stealing scenes. Just because Dinklage decided to bring some gravitas to his role—something the other characters sorely lack—doesn’t mean the actor is tainting his scenes with too much “Hey, look at me!” It’s actually a testament to Dinklage’s acting that he plays the role of Tyrion as the least predictable character on the show—one, as the imp, who could have very easily verged on caricature. Is Tyrion a dick? Yes. Is Tyrion also the voice of reason? Yes. This is a guy who hands over instructions on how to build a horse saddle for the now paraplegic Bran while insulting everyone possible along the way. Unfortunately, Tyrion is now being accused of Bran’s attempted murder, too, so perhaps his unpredictable manner has gotten him into a bit of trouble. Honestly, I wish the show runners had deviated from the book and given Tyrion some sort of instant teleporting power so that he could be in every scene—because, right now, the show desperately needs more of him.

Fine, yes, I’m complaining about this episode. But do I think the exposition will pay off soon—perhaps even next week? We started to see some payoff with the final scene last night, so it’s not too big of a stretch to think that the payoff won’t continue. They can’t just keep cutting to scenes of Dany and Viserys riding their horses to . . . somewhere, can they? (On second thought, don’t answer that.)

Mike Ryan is a frequent contributor to VanityFair.com. You can contact him directly on Twitter.