Fifty Shames of Earl Grey: A Parody by Fanny Merkin (reading an ebook .TXT) 📗

“Your father sent you these flowers,” my mother says, motioning to a marijuana plant on the nightstand. “The good news is, you’re going to make it. Mr. Grey has flown in the best doctors from around the world to treat you.”

Celebrity doctor Drew Pinsky enters the room. Since he’s one of those doctors too good looking to do something so ordinary as wear a white coat, he’s dressed in a tasteful baby-blue button-down shirt with a light-yellow tie. His hair is cropped short and his glasses look like they were designed specifically for his angular face. And his arms! All I can see are his forearms, since his sleeves are rolled up, but RAWR. He works out.

“I see our little Cinderella is awake,” he says to my mother and stepfather. “Mr. Grey flew me in from Los Angeles to treat you.”

“Sleeping Beauty,” I correct him.

“Excuse me?” he says.

“The fairy tale where the girl falls asleep after biting the poison apple is ‛Sleeping Beauty,’ not ‛Cinderella, ’” I say.

Dr. Drew nods. “Of course. I was just, uh, testing your concussion. Sounds like your brain is functioning normally. Always a good sign.” He flashes a penlight into my eyes. “Dilating normally,” he says.

Dr. Drew smiles at my mother and stepfather. “Could I have a moment alone with your daughter? I need to run over some of the more confidential information relating to her condition. If you can wait outside, I’ll let you know when I’m through.” They nod and leave us alone.

“My pupils are dilating. My memory is fine. So am I free to go? Where’s Mr. Grey?”

“I sent him home once your family got here,” Dr. Drew says. “He stood vigil beside your bed for the past seventy-two hours. And I’d like to keep you under observation at least through the night. You broke several bones in your legs, which we were able to heal using the latest medical technology, but you’ve been in a medically induced coma to treat the swelling in your brain.”

Wow. “I guess I was really messed up,” I say. And then it hits me: the baby! Our eyes lock.

He lowers his gaze. “We need to talk about something,” he says.

“The baby,” I say.

He nods. “The baby is fine. But . . .”

A wave of relief floods over me. “But what?”

“I ran some tests, and your baby is a sadist. Just like his father.”

“What? How is that possible?” I ask. Also: it’s a baby boy! But also: WTF?

“It’s very unusual this early in a pregnancy for a baby to be kicking, but I felt it, and I’m sure you have too,” he says.

I nod.

“You’re less than a week along. Can you imagine what this baby will do to your insides at nine months?”

Gulp. “What should I do?”

“First: Does Earl Grey know?”

I shake my head. “I just found out myself days before the accident at the Space Needle.”

“Talk it over with him,” Dr. Drew says. “I’m not saying there isn’t any hope, but I just want you to know the risks involved with carrying Earl Grey’s baby.”

“I don’t know if I can talk it over with him,” I mutter.

“Relationship problems?”

“Where do I begin?” I say. “As you know, he’s a sadist. A controlling, egomaniacal sociopath who treats women as objects to be sexually and psychologically abused.”

“That’s why he’s so attached to his Dungeon Master persona. Role-playing his fantasies is how he handles his sadistic desires. BDSM is a game where he is in total control of himself and the women he invites to play with him. Do you find his antics in the bedroom exciting?”

I sigh. “I do. Sometimes. I mean, I like the idea of an alpha male Dungeon Master tossing me around the bedroom on occasion. But I feel that he’s holding back a part of himself around me, like he’s too ashamed of his own dark impulses to reveal himself fully . . .”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door and Earl steps through. Even though he hasn’t slept for days, he still looks as attractive and alert as ever. He’s dressed in his gray business suit again, which he wears like a boss. I guess that makes sense, because he is a boss. “Knock, knock,” he says.

“Mr. Grey!” I scream.

He rushes across the room to me and we greet each other with a long hug that turns into a deep, passionate kiss with his tongue diving down my throat like a seagull lunging for an old french fry on the pavement. That turns into Earl unbuckling his pants, and me untying my hospital gown. “I want to suck your eyeballs,” I tell him.

“So, ah, I’ll just leave you two alone then,” Dr. Drew says, showing himself out.

Earl has stripped his pants and boxers off, and mounts the bed. I am naked underneath him, ready to accept his rigid disco stick. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that the bathroom door is cracked open slightly. A pair of beady eyes peeks through at us.

“Wait,” I say. “I can see you, Dr. Drew.”

He steps out of the bathroom. “Oh,” he says. “I was just, ah, um, washing my hands before I left. Hospital policy.”

Earl stares him down and Dr. Drew quickly retreats out of the room. “I’ll just tell your parents to wait out here until you’re done,” the doctor says, closing the door.

“Now where were we?” Earl says, pressing his body down on me. “Oh, I remember: we were nearing the city limits of Fucksville,” he says, thrusting into me as my heart monitor beeps wildly out of control.

After we finish fornicating, we dress and let my mother and stepfather back into the room. Thankfully, I don’t have to do any introductions since Earl met them earlier in the day when they first arrived in Seattle. The air is damp with our sweat and our hair is totally JBF, but my mother doesn’t say anything. My stepfather has