Sunday, August 10, 2014

Fifty Shades of Parody (Chapter 12a)

For the first time in my chubby little life, I voluntarily go for a run.
     Ah, who am I kidding? Me and running go together like the words military intelligence.
     I hear tap, tap, tapping from the other side of my front door. Ding! Ding! Ding! goes my computer. I look through the little peep-hole to see who's on the other side. It's Christian. Why's he standing so far away?
     Crap! I put the peep-hole in backward.
     I open the door to let Christian in. He's standing there, tapping on the computer Crocket is holding for him.
     "Good evening, Anastasia." His voice is as cool as, well, something really cool that I can't think of right now. He turns. "That will be all, Crocket."
     "All of what?" Crocket wants to know, looking over the top of his Ray-Bans. Doesn't he ever change out of his white suit?
     I shut the door.
     "All of what?"
     "May I sit?" Christian asks, his eyes dancing with amusement. I think they're doing the Funky
Chicken, but I could be wrong. I'm guessing he's here to chumbawumba or chew bubblegum.
     And I'm all out of bubblegum.
     He walks into another room of the apartment. A room he shouldn't be in.
     "Come here, Ana," he tells--no, orders--me.
     "I shouldn't," I say, meekly. "Not there. Not that room. My mother told me to never take a man into... that room.""
     "I said, COME HERE!"
     His will is too strong. I comply, because, well, that's what I do.
     "Now give me your hands," he tells me. "I want you to feel how big and hard this is."
     I do that, too.
     "Run your hands up and down the sides. Feel the softness? It's both soft and smooth and hard."
     "That's three."
     "What?"
     "You said 'both'. 'Soft' and 'smooth' and 'hard' are three things, not two."
     "Ana."
     "What?"
     "Shut up."
     "Okay."
     "Don't say another word."
     "I won't."
     "I mean it, be quiet."
     "I will."
     "Can you say nothing for just one second?"
     "Of course I can."
     "Then do it."
     "I will."
     "But you're not."
     "Not what?"
     "Being quiet."
     "Of course I am."
     "You're still talking."
     "No, I'm not."
     "Yes, you are."
     "No, I'm not."
     "Yes, you are."
     "No, I'm not."
     "Will you be quiet for a Scooby Snack?"
     "..."
     "Good girl. Now feel the softness, the hardness. The softness, the hardness. How can it be both hard and soft? That's a contradiction in the laws of physics."
     "Yes, it is."
     "You're talking again."
     "Sorry."
     "Now, let me see what you have for me, sweet Ana. Can you move a little to the left? Good girl. Now open it, open it for me."
     "Like this?"
     "Exactly like that, except without you flapping your pie-hole. Let me see it, baby. Show it to me. Man, what a big hole... what a big hole."
     "Gee, you didn't have to say it twice."
     "The second one was an echo. Now reach over here. That's right. Grab it with both your hands. See how's there's almost too much for your sausage-like fingers to hold?"
     "I do."
     "Now put it in the hole."
     "I can't, there's too much."
     "I said, Put It In The Hole."
     "There's just too much."
     "PUT IT IN THE HOLE, ANA!"
     "I'm afraid. I'm afraid it won't fit."
     "Trust me, it will."
     "Oh... oh, yes... I'm trying, but there's just too much."
     "Do it, Ana!"
     "I... I  did it, Christian! I put it all in!"
     "Yes, you did, and see how it completely fills the hole."
     Jeez, does he have to keep calling it The Hole?
     "Yes," I say.
     "That's a good thing."
     "Yes, it is."
     "Now don't move. Stay completely still. See how I'm touching here?"
     "Yes."
     "And pressing there?"
     "I do."
     "And twisting this?"
     "Oh!"
     "And turning that?"
     "Oh! Oh!"
     "Hear that?"
     "Sorry. I had a Hot Pocket for lunch."
     "That's the sound of your love filling for me."
     "That's what I meant."
     "Now put your hands here, on the side. Feel the movement, the rhythm? See how wet it's gotten? How incredibly, sensually wet?"
     "So... wet."
     "Feel the rhythm, Ana. Let yourself go. I love how wet it is. So wet and hot. I can feel the heat, can't you?"
     "Yes, I can."
     "And look at those suds!"
     "Hunh? Ah? Wha?"
     "And that, baby, is how you do the laundry!"
 
 
Fifty Shades of Humor
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