Fifty Mood Swings (Fifty Shades Darker: pgs. 401-450)

Ana calls Christian with the news of her promotion in the beginning of pages 401-450 of Fifty Shades Darker: Meet the Fockers. She worries that he pulled a few strings since he orchestrated the take over of the publishing company, but he is as surprised as the rest of the universe.  

(If you feel the need to torture yourself and want to know how we get to this point, click here)

Apparently Jack really rated me,” Ana tells Christian.

Do you mind if we pause for a second, gentle reader?

First, I don’t know what that means. Did Jack give Ana a movie review of two dongs up? Second, Jack was fired the previous night for trying to attack Ana. I’m just thinking that’s the reason based on the fact that Jack tried to blackmail Ana into sex and then Christian had him fired. Does anyone else find it strange that Jack’s opinion of Ana–oh excuse me, rating of Ana–would be influential in her promotion?

Well Bob, Jack gave Ana, like, five stars on that rating card. 

Hmmm you don’t say, Bill? Wow, that’s fantastic as crap. Who’s Jack again?

Bob, Jack’s the guy we just fired for attempted sexual assault.

Ooh, bummer, Bill, but I guess we should still take his judgement into consideration.

Let’s continue. Christian becomes frosty for one second then caring the next second then pissed the third second and then loving the last second. A toddler hyped up on pixie sticks is more even-keeled than Christian Grey.

Ana forgets she made a lunch date with Christian’s sister Mia. Kate’s brother Ethan turns up conveniently and Ana foists Mia off on him by giving him the “biggest-bluest-longest-eyelashed look.” How is this book popular? Seriously world. I’m giving you the biggest-stinkiest-hairest-eyeballiest hairy eyeball look.

Christian sends her roses and emails something insinuating he wants to fuck outdoors. Fantastic.

Next up is the meeting with Christian’s therapist Dr. Flynn. Ana is pissed that the female receptionist greets Christian warmly. Ana says the office has the atmosphere of a “gentlemen’s club” so I take that to mean strippers and sticky chairs and floor.

Ana wants to talk to Dr. Flynn in private, and Christian is very accommodating of that. Just kidding. He pouts and acts surly like he does 95 percent of the time.

Dr. Flynn explains he’s using the therapy SFBT–Super Fun Butt Teasers for the lay person. Christian has a lot to deal with like his haphephobia, Dr. Flynn explains. Ana immediately thinks Dr. Flynn is talking gay stuff and is relieved when she learns it means fear of being touched because she is the worst.

Dr. Flynn now addresses Ana’s central issue–her brain stem not connecting to her spinal cord Christian’s sadism.

People change, is basically what Dr. Flynn says. “After all what you’re asking for is not unreasonable,” he says. Ana flushes and thinks No, it’s not unreasonable, is it? I just slammed my head into the dining room table, gentle reader, but I’m okay.

Then she digs out this chestnut: “Part of me thinks if he wasn’t broken he wouldn’t want to be with me.” Yikes. Seriously, yikesville.

Before Dr. Flynn can sign Ana up for a year’s worth of sessions with Stuart Smalley, Christian comes back in glaring at both of them, and then perks up and says “Let’s go celebrate your promotion.”

She wants to drive to their celebration, and he doesn’t want her to, but she does want to and this fight goes on and on while the theme song from The Itchy & Scratchy Show plays on repeat in my head. She drives and then pulls over so she can look at him while they talk about Dr. Flynn. They fight and glare and smolder. Then Christian drives fightely.

We’re treated to this very necessary observation:

“Whoa. I’ve never heard him sing, not even in the shower, ever. I frown. He has a lovely voice–of course. Hmm…has he heard me sing?”

WhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhyThanks!

They arrive at a house. A woman opens the door and predictably flushes when she touches Christian. Were you aware that Christian Grey is the finest specimen of shit bag on the planet? Ana sees the “biggest rug I’ve ever seen.” Mmm. Tell me more. Ana looks out the window and my eyes begin to bleed into the cerulean sky as I read this: “Vermilion hues bleed into the cerulean sky, with opals and aquamarines, and meld with the darker purples of the scant wispy clouds and the land beyond the Sound.”

Dear E.L. James,

Never try to describe a sunset again. Just write: The view was neat.

Sincerely,

The earth

Christian wants to buy the house for them.  “Christian you had me at cock ring meadow,” Ana platitudes. Christian is so happy “his hands are suddenly thrusting into (Ana’s) hair.” What is it with the hair fisting and thrusting?

More celebrating at the Mile-High Club, which Christian owns, obvs. He tells Ana to take off her panties. She does in the bathroom while her inner goddess struts around in a pink feather boa, diamonds and fuck-me shoes.

Okay.

She sits next to him, and he alternates between rubbing his thighs and feeding her oysters. He refuses to touch her. This is “sexy.” Ana assumes the mating position by raising her rear quarters and unleashing a torrent of spray, but Christian still won’t touch her.

He wants her to eat. Surprise! She doesn’t want to because she’s hungry for some grey bologna.

She tries to seduce him by eating asparagus and having her urine smell musty, but he rips it from her hands. “(Ana) feels like a child who has been denied candy.”

Excuse me for one sec…I just need to puke a little.

When she finishes her plate, Christian says “Good girl.” Pause again. Just some stomach bile this time.

Then he finger bangs her in the elevator with a bunch of people around. It’s just dry heaves. I have nothing left to bring up.

Christian wants to cock bang at home, but worries they’ll only make it as far as the car. Ana wants to get the gear shift implanted in her butt, and Christian feigns horror at her audacity. And then this completely comprehensible exchange happens:

“‘I’ve never had sex in the car,’ I mumble. Christian halts and places those same fingers (ewwww) under my chin, tipping my head back and glaring down at me.

‘I’m very pleased to hear that. I have to say I’d be very surprise, not to say mad, if you had.’

I flush, blinking up at him. Of course; I’ve only had sex with him. I frown.

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘What did you mean?’ His tone is unexpectedly harsh.

‘Christian, it was just an expression.’”

So that was normal, right?

Now they’re in the apartment. He’s about to plow, and she’s “aware that the usual vase of flowers is missing. Huh?” And that is so relevant because….um..

Then there’s just some good love making. He yells at her “Open your eyes!” and when she doesn’t comply quickly enough, he thrusts “sharply into (her) so that (she) cries out.”

“I blink my eyes open, and he stares down at me wide-eyed. Slowly he withdraws, then sinks into me once more, his mouth slackening and then forming an Ah.” For some reason, this scene reminds me of A Clockwork Orange:

This is “sexy.”

The next day, Ana thinks of another birthday present for Christian. She goes into his closet for one of his ties and finds a box of illicit photographs from the red room of pain. That woman with the genital clamp on her face is so much prettier than me, Ana thinks.

Vermilion ones bleed with cerulean zeros into a meld of words and sentences sent through the darkest purples of cables into the opal networks and aquamarine BlackBerry devices of Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele. Or they send each other emails.

Christian doesn’t reply to the last missive about whether one can really look at clouds from both sides now. Ana begins to worry, and worryingly has drinks with Jose and some other people.

I’m worried I won’t finish this book because of the vomiting.

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37 comments

  1. Oh man. I felt a slight twinge of guilt because I voted for you to continue to keep reading this godawful drivel. I say felt because after I read your blog entry and laughed my ass off, I no longer felt guilty. Now I feel happy. Thank you!
    Honestly, why are all these women obsessed with Mr. Grey? He’s a douche.
    I’ll take Mr. Darcy any day.

  2. When this is all over you should send Hugo and blue bunny out to us like Flat Stanley. Then we can take turns posing them and taking absurd pictures and post them. I think I’m getting way too much into these recraps. :)

    1. I fear what would happen if Hugo got out in the public. He’s verrrrryyy charismatic and it would be only a matter of days he’d be leading a cult of bald-headed women.

  3. Speaker 7,
    You’re so fucking awesome. Oh my fucking God. My son is looking at me funny as I’m laughing in front of a screen, which he should be used to by now. I should punish him, actually. But anyway, you’re so fucking awesome.
    Le Clown

    1. By all means punish your son. I would suggest a wonderful trilogy I’m reading as the perfect punishment.

      Thanks for the Le Clown praise, it made my night.

    1. I fear getting into elevators now knowing how popular these books are and how people are getting turned on by them. It has had the opposite effect on me, and am thinking of sealing my lady bits up with some cement.

    1. Mostly it’s just a little…since this book causes me to lose my appetite as well. I think I might write a dieting book inspired by Fifty Shades.

      1. hehehe…that sounds like a great idea. You can call it, “Fifty Shades of Green”

  4. Another hilarious recap. 2 dongs up was my fav line in this one bahaha. We all owe you big time for suffering through these books.

      1. I actually found the third one the easiest to read, in that it had some form of plot that didn’t entirely focus on all the panvaging. I’m sure your recraps will be amaziballs

  5. We might need to raise funds to send you to rehab after this. I don’t know that I could handle the horrid story-telling. You’re a saint!

  6. First, I would like to say that I REALLY REALLY REALLY hope that you do the third book as well, because damn, you funny lady! Second, I seriously suggest that you read something else before you start the third book, in order to give your brain and esophagus much needed breaks. Your poor brain must be jelly by now.

  7. Maybe Ana works at Penn State?

    Also, I asked my Mom if she’d read these books yesterday and she said yes. And that it was “a nice love story.” Shit just got real.

  8. I loved the sunset description. I flashbacked to my 7th grade English comp class where I wrote something quite similar — you know, right before I doodled a thorny rose against a broken heart (and an eyeball with a teardrop falling from it) on the front of my old trapper keeper.

  9. Dear Speaker7,
    You have saved me. I was finally succumbing to the pressure to read these books when you started posting your reviews. Oh happy day! My brain is now safe.
    Yours, unfortunately, took the bullet for mine. Ah, well. Thanks for that!

    1. I think what is so awesome about her noticing the missing vase is that it foreshadows…um…that scene where we find out why the vase is missing…wait, I finished the book, and the missing vase was never brought up again. Never mind. But I’m so glad Ana pointed that out because I was wondering “Oh, are they going to bang on the floor by that vase? Jeez, I hope the vase doesn’t tip over” and then I could fully enjoy the pirate sounds and sinking in without the worry.

  10. speaker7, I give you a golden-y golden, starry star with my bare hands for your awesomely awesomeness.

    EL James, I give you a bag of my own vomit. Please tell Ana to shove that up her marble jar.

    Side Note: Christian sure sounds like the perfect guy to bring home to the parents.

    “Hey Mom and Dad, guess who this is? Yes, this is the sadistic, effed up bastard who sees his crack whore mother in me.”

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