It was barely two weeks ago that Charlie Hunnam unexpectedly slipped out of Fifty Shades Of Grey, his once-stiff determination to fill its lead role suddenly limp, his eyes suddenly distant in a way that left Universal feeling shunned and therefore aroused. “Holy crap,” the studio and the media cried in unison, coming together as they got to the bottom of it, then took turns pounding out reports that left fans feeling raw. While Hunnam and Universal both characterized the decision as mutual, in the way of all healthy relationships based on sexual humiliation, there were whispers that Hunnam had simply become too demanding, in a way that was undoubtedly hot, but also irreconcilable. “Now, Miss Universal, I want you to rewrite your scripts for me, while I watch,” Hunnam had said, in our own approximation of things people actually say, reportedly becoming disappointed when Universal wouldn’t (oh, it couldn’t!) please him by manipulating its sex until he was satisfied.
And so, Universal had to find a new Christian Grey—one who would only try to dominate it in the way dictated by the contract they’d both signed, as is the basis for all the most romantic affairs. And according to Variety, it’s found him in Jamie Dornan, an Irish actor known for his role as a serial killer in the BBC drama The Fall—his secret, selfish disregard for human feeling making him incredibly attractive—and in America as Sheriff Graham/The Huntsman on ABC’s Once Upon A Time, where he’s garnered the necessary experience with ludicrous fantasy stories based on other people’s intellectual property, thus making him an ideal mate for E.L. James’ Twilight fan fiction. More importantly, Dornan is also a former Calvin Klein model, and so he has the necessary experience with fetishizing underwear to star in a story that is at least 30 percent descriptions of bras and panties. Judging by his official Tumblr (h/t to FilmDrunk), he’s also really great at feeding that ass.
Nevertheless, no sooner had Universal put Dornan inside than Fifty Shades’ inner goddesses began to detonate around him, again and again, shocked by his size. “Christian is tall and masculine not short and scrawny. Ugh!” exclaimed one Variety sort-of-reader, already well on her way to writing her own erotic comment board fan fiction that could then be adapted into a multimillion-dollar franchise, which other women could then complain about when its movie version doesn’t perfectly match the vision they have in their heads when they masturbate. “I AM NO LONGER LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS MOVIE WHAT ARE THEY THINKING THIS GUY IS NOT CHRISTIAN GREY …GEEZ DID THEY READ THE DAMN BOOKS THIS IS NOT SCREAMING CHRISTIAN GREY,” shouted another, her pain mixing with pleasure in a way that she obviously couldn’t help but find exciting.
“Aagh!” Universal thought, its cheeks burning with shame—delicious shame—at continually being punished like this. It realized it had come to need it. Was this what love felt like?