Fifty Shades of Greg

Breathless, perspiring, woozy with desire, I went up to the ticket counter.

"One f-for Fifty Shades of Grey," I gulped palpitatingly.

"What?" the booth girl said.

"Grey," I panted. "Fifty Shades of it, please."

"Eight bucks."

"Uh, do-do you w-want to see my ID?"

The girl jerked her thumb. "Theater to your left."

"Do you want to check me for nipple clamps?" I had heard a rumor that theaters were confiscating patrons' sexy accoutrements. "My ball gag? My various plugs and silicon gels...?"

The girl ignored me. Well, the joke was on her. My nipple clamps were actually in my pants ha ha.

Trembling all over, I sweatily gripped my ticket and soon entered the velvety dark caress of the theater. Oooooh, I said, biting my lip. My inner goddess was very excited. And a bit gassy.

The theater was filled with young women, all giggling. And now a lone, pudgy middle-aged jackass joined them. Also giggling. And flushed with desire. Biting his lip. And passing gas, discreetly. (Stupid inner goddess.)

I couldn't help noticing the receptacles at various places in the theater. It wasn't until the end that I learned what they were for...

At last the curtain parted and we all let out a moan. YESSSS!!!! FIFTY SHADES!! WHOO!! LET THE INNER GODDESS REIGN!!! *phhooot*

A potent mixture of capitalism, sado-masochism and Down's Syndrome, FIFTY SHADES is about a young collegiate scholar who loves literature. In fact, she loves literature so much that she lands her dream job at a hardware store. Later she hopes to get her MFA in snaking clogs.

"Chaucer could really mortise a PVC pipe hinge...
If you catch my meaning. Uh, how can I help you?"

She meets a man who freely distributes smoky glances to anyone who nicely fills out an Ace Hardware apron.

"Would you like a little more smug in your douche, miss?"

Turns out the guy likes ropes and tape and grommets. By now even the giggling ladies around me can see where this is going: He wants to caulk her!

"Do you have any sexy toilet plungers on sale? 

You know, the double-headed ones, ribbed for her pleasure...?"

The man has a lot of money, and is typical of the rich in that he softly pipes in opera music into every room of his mansion. So let this be a lesson to all you people who want to get rich someday: you'll have to listen to a lot of opera. A LOT

"Okay, don't look, but we're in this movie."

The girl has to go out into the rain to wash the steamy eroticism off her body. I hate it when you get steamy eroticism on yourself. Vinegar with salt will usually get it off. Out, I mean.

"Awww yes, acid rain! I love ecological sadism!"

The guy is emotionally unavailable, like every male who's ever dressed up like a pirate, or a rogue, or a brigand, or a Scottish highlander with broken bagpipes and a dog named Willikers. But no worries, the plucky lady is there to break this bitch and teach him to love shopping at IKEA.

"After this we're going to watch that Britney Spears reality show."

In the end, they shout their safe word to the director. But he ignores them and keeps inflicting luscious pain with his flickering beam of light on our willing eyeballs. CAN I HAVE ANOTHER

"Soon I'll get this parachute open and I'll be FREEEEE!!"

When the lights came back on and we looked around, lip-bitingly sated, we saw that the receptacles were for panty wringing. But the whole thing was a waste because I was the only one doing the wringing!

*phphhphoo*