Gad. This book. Chapter 15 of Anatwatcrotch Steele’s memoirs is just, so, so double crap with a buttplug. First off, I was fairly sure I was already through Chapter 15, but no. No it was still THERE. All supposedly 18 pages of it, though I don’t really believe it was 18 pages, because I just kept turning pages and the crap just kept going, like that perverted Energizer Bunny. And I thought, I need someone who can clean up the bunch of shit that was this chapter. And then it hit me (not Christian, the idea.)
Alice: Hello, Mrs. Jones.
Mrs. Jones: Hello, Alice. You have a little Jello on your face dear. Now spit.
Alice: I don’t really . . .
Mrs. Jones: Spit into this hanky!
Alice: Okay! Gee, thanks for cleaning my face.
Mrs. Jones: You’re welcome. That’s what I do around here. I clean. So much. So, so much.
Alice: Yeah. So what’s it like working for Christian?
Mrs. Jones: Oh, the pay is nice, and he gives me this place to live. Isn’t it nice? ISN’T IT?
Alice: Yes. Um. So do you like Christian?
Mrs. Jones: Oh, he’s like the little psychotic son I never had. But cleaning up after him? All those buttplugs, Alice. There are SO MANY. And the stuff that gets on them is –
Alice: Thank you! That’s really all I need to know about that. What do you think of Ana? And Christian’s relationship with her?
Mrs. Jones: Well. She looks like all the others, of course. But she’s much more of a , what is the nice way to say this, hmm?
Alice: Bitch? Harpy? Dumbass?
Mrs. Jones: Yes. I mean, before they kept the sex in the playroom. Such a mess, I mean you wouldn’t believe what I would find –
Alice: I would. Anyway?
Mrs. Jones: It was gross, but at least the room was fairly soundproof so I didn’t have to hear all the screaming and thrusting and whatnot.
Alice: They do have sex a lot.
Mrs. Jones: A lot? They do it all the time. Almost every waking second. Except when they stop to drink, or Christian orders me to make a sandwich for Ana. Then it’s back to the fucking. They even did it on the piano. Do you know how long it took me to –
Alice: Once again, I can imagine. So anything interesting happen lately? Did anything happen? At all?
Mrs. Jones: Let’s see. Well, Ana howled and moaned and cried – and she wasn’t even having sex at that point. Christian carried her to bed, because the stupid girl can’t eat or walk for herself. I’m not sure if there really is a brain inside that head at all.
Alice: If so, it ran out of batteries years ago.
Mrs. Jones: Then Christian screamed, but it was nightmare screaming, not the other kind. Just one of the many things you learn to ignore around here. One of the many, many things you learn to ignore . . .
Alice: So then what happened?
Mrs. Jones: Then came the sex. Did you know you can hear a foil packet rip from across the house?
Alice: That’s illuminating.
Mrs. Jones: Then they talked and talked and Ana asked to see Dr. Flynn.
Alice: I hope he shows her what’s in that drawer.
Mrs. Jones: Taylor drove her to work. And then Christian got on the computer.
Alice: Oh, no.
Mrs. Jones: And started emailing Ana. This went back and forth. He was quite upset that she wasn’t using her Blackberry. The raunchy, idiotic emails can be traced on her work computer.
Alice: Did it occur to him to just stop sending her raunchy, idiotic emails?
Mrs. Jones: No. Christian was even more upset because Ana was having a hard day. Her boss, Mr. Hyde, kept yelling at her.
Alice: Because she was emailing instead of doing her coloring sheets?
Mrs. Jones: Also she was late getting to work and late with his lunch. They emailed some more. Ana continued to not use the Blackberry.
Alice: She has no sense of self-preservation and yet she keeps breathing somehow.
Mrs. Jones: Then she called during Christian’s work meeting and they kept telling the other one to hang up, no you hang up . . .
Alice: Just . . . I don’t . . . moving on.
Mrs. Jones: Mia apparently called Ana at one point – come to think of it, so did Jose, and Ethan as well. Christian tracks her calls.
Alice: Of course. No wonder Jack wants to kill the little twit.
Mrs. Jones: Mia let slip about Christian’s birthday. And then Ana and Christian sent emails back and forth about him being so old.
Alice: I hate their emails. So much.
Mrs. Jones: Well, she stopped emailing to go get a cookie since she can’t remember to eat. Taylor and Christian were all ready to pick her up from work, but she didn’t come out. Turns out Jack was trying to rape her in the break room.
Alice: Naturally. Wow. Guess that’s all we have time for today.
Mrs. Jones: There’s so much more I could tell you, though.
Alice: That’s okay. Really. I already know so much no amount of Lysol will ever, ever clean it out. Ever.*
*Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever.