Fifty Shades of Grey is the erotic literary sensation that threw convention and grammar to the wind and reminded sexually adventurous readers that jumper cables are multi-purpose. And after reading what will surely be hailed by future generations as the War and Peace of S&M literature, you’ve probably got just one thought on your mind: Which Fifty Shades of Grey character would I be? Take this frivolous quiz and find out!
1. How often do you say ‘oh, my?’
A. A few times a month, like when I came home early from work to find my butler wearing a negligee and dancing to “I’m Every Woman.”
B. Every time I spill my latte, view an exceptionally girthy phallus, watch an episode of Jersey Shore, spot a pair of Jimmy Choos for fifty percent off, breathe, or see something really shiny.
C. Only when I see something truly breathtaking, like an aura borealis or a picture of a squirrel riding a cat.
D. “Oh, my?” What am I, some Victorian-era featherbrain stumbling to my fainting couch?
2. How do you refer to your psyche?
A. As fifty shades of f----d up. Tragically metaphoric, no?
B. As my inner goddess, but after waking up next to an empty ale jug and an empty onesie, I’m starting to wonder if it’s that one ancient European goddess that gets drunk and eats babies.
C. I call her Tiff.
D. I don’t have a psyche. There are only two real half-baked characters in this whole freaking story, remember?
3. When it comes to impressions, how memorable are you?
A. I take a private helicopter to the 7-eleven when I’m out of milk, so yeah, I turn a few heads.
B. I leave a pretty strong impression because I never. Shut. The. Hell. Up.
C. Not very. I only appear every couple of chapters, seemingly just to giggle.
D. Everything I say is fairly generic, but I’m the only ethnic character in the whole goddamn book so that should count for something.
4. What’s your daily attire of choice?
A. My goal is to bash the clearly retarded reader over the head with metaphor, so I wear a gray suit with a gray tie, which is nicely offset by the gray interiors constantly surrounding me. Oh, yeah—and my last name is Grey.
B. My modest outfits fall just short of those Little House on the Prairie dresses you see women wearing on the news whenever the cops do one of those big-time polygamy compound raids.
C. I’ve been known to sport fallopian-length minidresses.
D. F--k if I know. Try combing that 500-page Iliad of a Penthouse letter for any discerning details regarding my appearance.
5. How did you lose your virginity?
A. To a domineering MILF I talk about in a secretive, ominous tone just to piss off my current girlfriend.
B. To a billionaire fetishist. And I came, like, forty times! Go figure!
C. To the Washington Huskies.
D. The hell if I know. I mostly just wander in and out of the book like a human topiary. I’m not even sure I have genitalia.
Mostly As
Congrats! You’re literary beefcake Christian Grey. Designed by a committee of hair-twirling tweens, you’re a twenty-seven-year-old billionaire with abs like Jesus and a penchant for buying women simple tokens of affection like cars. Oh—and as soon as you’re done whacking your girlfriend with that riding crop, you plan to single-handedly cure world hunger. Alas, you’re also a very sad panda, which is subtly demonstrated by your melancholy late-night piano ballads. But despite all your inner demons, you’ve also got a playful side, as shown by the way your lips “quirk up” at least once per page.
Mostly Bs
Hey there, Anastasia! You’re our novel’s narrator and heroine, a modern Elizabeth Bennet reimagined as a whiny codependent. Sure, some people might find it annoying that you “flush” and “blush” and “oh my” every other nanosecond, but you’ve got plenty of intriguing qualities, too. For instance: You managed to turn what would otherwise be an 80-page book into a 500-page behemoth based solely on your ability to ruminate over your relationship. The good news: All Christian Grey has to do is blow on you and you burst into multiple orgasms.
Mostly Cs
You’re Kate, the vivacious (aka slutty) roommate. And sure, Anastasia might be boinking a dashing billionaire, but when it comes to looks, she’s clearly the Skipper to your Barbie. But don’t get too smug—at the end of the day she’s not the one afraid to get a chlamydia test.
Mostly Ds
Our condolences. You’re José, a forgettable buddy character with the personality of a fichus. Your only apparent purpose in the novel is to pop in between Anastasia’s multiple orgasms.
*Court Burback is the author of the blasphemous parody A Coupla Shades of Taupe, an e-book currently horrifying parents everywhere... including her own.
