Monday, August 24, 2015

Fifty Shades of Parody (Chapter 20c)

No, it was just Christian's younger sister banging on the door.
     I want to run and hide, but I'm so weak from our naughty shenanigans I couldn't punch my way out of a paper bag. Fortunately, I don't get stuck in a paper bag that often.
     "Here," Christian says, tossing me a pair of edible panties.
     Mmmm... delicious.
     "Those weren't edible," Christian tells me.
     I spit the chewed-up underwear into my hand and look around. Hmm, I don't see a trash receptacle. With no place to throw it away I'll have to hold it in my hand and carry it around. Maybe he won't notice.
     Christian lets his sister in.
     "Ana!" she screams, and lumbers enthusiastically towards me. "Hug! Hug!"
     I put up my hands to ward her off, and she sees what I have.
     "Ooo.. candy," she says, snatching the pre-chewed panties out of my hand and popping them into her mouth. "Yum."
     I nudge Christian.
     "What?" he says.
     "Aren't you going to tell her?"
     "Tell her what?"
 
     We make our way back into the main house, and Kate runs up to say goodbye.
     "We don't mean to rush off," she says, "but Crockett and I are on our way to have sex."
     "Do you two ever do anything besides have sex?" I ask Kate, mortified.
     "Sure, sometimes we go to the park and have sex, or we go to the movies and have sex, or we go to the zoo and have sex."
     "You've had sex at the zoo?"
     "Of course."
     I've always wondered why those animals all have funny looks on their faces.
     "Crockett's promised to make me some Cajun Chili tonight," she whispers confidentially.
     "What's that?"
     "I don't know, but it involves a baby alligator, some Lousiana Hot Sauce, and someone's anus. Preferably mine."
     We watch them as they leave.
     "That Kate," I tell Christian, wistfully, "she's so beautiful."
     "I don't know," Christian tells me, "take away her beauty, her body, and her fortune and what do you have?"
     "Me?"
     "And don't you forget it."
    
     "We'll be going, too," Christian tells his parents.
     "Aw, that's a shame," his father says, turning his attention to me. "We haven't even had a chance to brag about Christian yet."
     "That's true, dear," Christian's mother tells her husband. Then she, too, turns her attention my way. "Did you know Christian was quite the athlete when he was younger, Ana? It's true. In fact, he was the first person to ever throw a no-hitter."
     "Um, I don't mean to correct you, Mrs. Grey," I say, correcting her, "but other people have thrown no-hitters in baseball."
     "Yes," she says, "but he did it in football."
     I look at Christian, impressed. He gives me an aw-shucks grin that I find irresistible.
     "Mother," he says, "please."
     "There's nothing wrong with a mother bragging about her adopted son."
     Adopted?
     His mother comes up to me and gives me a hard hug goodbye.
     "Come back any time, dear," she tells me.
     "Really?"
     "No."
     The hug squeezed something loose inside of me. I excuse myself to go use the bathroom. I have to drop the kids off at the pool, if you get my drift.
     As I sit there, I look around. I've never seen a bathroom so elaborately elaborate. The sink is made of gold. The toilet is made of gold. Even the medicine cabinet is made of SOLID GOLD!
     Hmm, the medicine cabinet.
     I wonder if rich people store the same things in there that a poor person does. Don't get me wrong, I'm not poor. I just don't have a nickel to my name. Perhaps it's just as well, I don't think I'd like to be called Ana Nickel.
     I look at the medicine cabinet.
     I shouldn't, but...
     I open the cabinet door and gasp in shock. It's Christian's mother, Grace, looking at me looking at her. There's a hole on the other side, and she's got her face jammed in it. Apparently, she knew I would give in to the dark side and take a peek like a nosy nellie.
     "Can I help you, dear?" she asks.
     "Um... no," I mew.
     "Please don't be snooping in our medicine cabinets," she tells me, and shuts the cabinet door using a little gold knob that was obviously attached to the inside for just such occasions.
     "Okay," I say meekly, but she's already gone.
 
     On our drive home, Christian tells me, "Well, it seems you're a hit with my parents."
     "Really?"
     "No."
     "Christian?"
     "Yes?"
     "Why didn't you tell me you were adopted?"
     "There's a lot you don't know about me, my darling. Before the Grey's adopted me, I was in a gang with One-eyed Willie, Dom Irrera, and the Petey brothers: Big Petey, Little Petey, Regular-Sized Petey, Ortho-Petey, and the one who always said everything twice, Re-Petey. My friends, S.E. and Hinton, came up with our name, The Outsiders. We were a gang, that is, until we accidentally came across an actual gang, the Tenth Avenue Freeze-Outs. That was when we quickly decided to become a fraternity." Christian smiled at the memory. "Silly as it sounds, we even gave each other nicknames: Soda Pop, Pony Boy, Tube Steak."
     "What did they call you?"
     "They called me Mister Tibbs."
     "Tibbs was your last name?"
     "No, it was just a movie I saw. It's been a long journey from the orphan I was to the man I eventually became. The man who started the Save The Gerbils Foundation."
     "Do you remember your real parents?"
     "Mr. and Mrs. Grey are my real parents."
     "You know what I mean."
     "The only thing I remember about my biological father is a bit of advice he once gave me. He told me not to masturbate because it makes people go blind."
     "What did you tell him?"
     "I told him, 'I'm over here, dad.'"
     Christian's given me a lot to think about.
     "Ana?"
     "Yes, Christian?"
     "Are you familiar with the old nursery rhyme
 
'Milk, milk, lemonade.
Around the corner, fudge is made'?"
 
     "No."
     He grows quiet, thoughtful. There is something on his mind, but I have no idea what. Maybe he's hungry for some fudge. I know I am. And then...
     "Do you ever see yourself indulging in anal sex?"
     "No."
     "But don't you plan on ever getting pregnant?"
     Before I can answer, he says, "We're home."
    
 
American Chimpanzee
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