Fifty Shades of Debate (2/2)
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twispiteficTitle: Fifty Shades of Debate
Author: Melissa Treglia (
gnosticdiva)
Fandom: Fifty Shades Trilogy/Griffin Unbowed (homebrew)
Word Count: 2195 (for part two only)
Rating: R
Author's Note: See Part 1 for explanation and warnings.
Summary: Griffin Blasko, protagonist of Griffin Unbowed, vs. Christian Grey of the Fifty Shades trilogy.
===========================
Griffin Blasko: Hi. I'm Griffin Scott Blasko, the protagonist of Griffin Unbowed, written by Melissa Treglia and Nicole Harvelle. You know, just in case you missed it from the title. Like this guy, I'm a vampire cop. My job is as a constable with the Toronto Metropolitan Police Department, and my personal life... well, I'm the Pureblood, which is some sort of uber-vamp. I'm still reading the manual, here, because all the vampire stuff is very new to me. But I have a great girlfriend; Laila's sharp as a tack, and she keeps me sane amid the fucked-up-ness that is my life. And I'm a Scorpio, if you're into that astrology stuff.
Christian Grey: I am Christian Trevelyan Grey, CEO of the multinational billion-dollar company Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. My tastes are very singular; I enjoy boating, flying, and beating little brown-haired girls with a stick. Especially when they resemble my dead crack whore mother.
Griffin Blasko: *boggles* Uh, so... I guess we're into the dark, painful past stuff already. In that case... *deep breath* My mother died when I was three, and I spent my life in the foster care system. I don't remember my biological father. My foster father was verbally and emotionally abusive, and I spent my teen years acting out... doing the usual rebellious teenager type things. I straightened up pretty quick though and, once I reached the age of majority, I left foster care and joined the constabulary to protect and serve those who can't speak for themselves... or are too afraid to.
Christian Grey: My mother was a whore who smoked crack and got beaten up by her pimp a lot. She died when I was four, and I starved for days waiting for help.
Griffin Blasko: You already mentioned your mum was a hooker and an addict. And even four-year-olds know how to dial 911. Unfortunately, being as we're both fictional characters, our sad childhoods are neither unique nor special. And, even if they were, it's no excuse for whatever shit we pull now. We're both grown-ass men, dude. So stop blaming your mum for all the shit you can't handle. Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining, yeah?
Christian Grey: You can't possibly understand...
Griffin Blasko: I guess you were so busy drooling over your own reflection, that you spaced when I mentioned I have a dead mum too. My authors keep me self-aware enough to not blame my parents—either my real ones or my foster ones—for the bullshit I have to face now that I'm an adult. Some people in this world are just assholes, and your parents can't always protect you... as much as they might like to. Your mum probably did the best she could with the hand she was dealt—that's all anybody can ever do, especially when the hand you're dealt is complete shit. Believe me, I know a thing or two about that.
Christian Grey: If she hadn't been a fucking crack whore, she wouldn't have died!
Griffin Blasko: Ah, abandonment issues; I know them well. And how the fuck would you know where her life may have led her, if she hadn't been an addict? You got some kind of crystal ball thing going, man? Hell, if she wasn't an addict, she still could've gotten struck by a car while you were at daycare, or maybe had an aneurysm. Those suckers hit fast and hard—that awesome 80's singer Laura Branigan died from a brain aneurysm awhile back, and she was still pretty young at the time.
Christian Grey: You don't understand!
Griffin Blasko: Oh, no. I get it. You're a pretty, white, rich kid with First World problems. Woe is you. I'm sure the kids in Sierra Leone who are forcibly turned into coked-out killing machines, the babies starving in Somalia, the women in Afghanistan who are kept illiterate and under burqas, and the cartoonists being murdered by Muslim extremists in France, are all more than willing to spare a few tears for you. Even though you only care about them when you're bored. You self-centered dick.
Christian Grey: How dare you, you—
Griffin Blasko: *cutting him off* Oh right, right. Your life is so hard, given that you were hungry until the age of four, then immediately after that got the perfect life handed to you on a silver platter. The perfect wealthy foster parents who adore children and basically let you get away with murder. The hundreds of thousands of dollars loaned to you by your “special friend” as start up for your business. The placid, demure wife who never questions you, no matter how shitty you act towards her. You're the king of a twenty-floor castle, and you never have to see how the other half lives anymore. Oh yeah, it's hell being you. Self-made man, my ass.
Christian Grey: *fuming*
Griffin Blasko: You know what happened to me after I left my foster family? I had to start from the bottom rung. I paid for my own education at the academy, while flipping burgers and delivering pizzas, and running on four hours of sleep a day. And, up until a few days ago, I was still living in the same shitty apartment—on the wrong side of town and complete with shady landlord—that I'd first gotten after leaving my foster family. Plus, I started out just like everyone else on the force—a rookie in blues, and I made it to detective in the first place because I work my ass off. And while I'm not exactly swimming in loonies, and my girl is gonna earn more money as a doctor than I'll ever see as one of T.O.'s finest, I worked for every penny that's ever been in my hot little hands. I'm not a trust fund baby like you, and you know what? I'm actually kinda glad for it, because living among the dregs of society made me realize how important it is that someone speaks up for them. I'll never be a rich man... but at least my life has meaning. The hookers and the homeless guys and the drug addicts all need someone to look out for them... because “polite” society forgets they're even there, unless it's for a photo op to make the high-and-mighty set look like they're actually doing something for the “little people”, to feel better about the emptiness of their own lives.
Christian Grey: …
Griffin Blasko: ...That's it, isn't it? That's why you keep bangin' on this “poor me” drum. For all the God-given blessings and for all your wealth, your life is completely meaningless. And, rather than doing the grown-up thing and searching within yourself for the whys and hows, you instead look for someone else to blame. As long as you don't have to take a good hard look in the mirror to see what's really underneath. “An unexamined life is not worth living.” Socrates said it, and it's my motto. You should take it to heart too, boyo.
Christian Grey: I have everything any man could ever want...
Griffin Blasko: And you're still not happy. *rubs his index finger and thumb together* Look, I'm playing the world's smallest violin for you... and what the fuck was that earlier about beating up brown-haired girls?
Christian Grey: Because they look like my dead crack whore mother.
Griffin Blasko: *irritated* Yeah, I got that, dickwad. I know WHY you do it, I'm just curious how you decide a chick looks like Dead Mum. What does she have to look like to pass inspection?
Christian Grey: Long dark hair, fair skin, short and thin, light eyes...
Griffin Blasko: *pondering* Huh. Y'know, there's a lot of brunettes in the world. *runs hand through his short, somewhat spiky hair* Me being one... *suddenly squicked out* My girl Laila fits your description pretty well, even got the right eyes—they're green.
Christian Grey: Hmmm....
Griffin Blasko: Don't even think about touching her, asshole.
Christian Grey: *sneering* Why, you'll kill me?
Griffin Blasko: No, she will. My girl's pretty bad-ass—and what's more awesome than knowing the most important person in your life can pick up the slack when you get benched? I tell ya, it's a good thing Laila's one of the good guys and on my side... 'cos, if she was evil, I'd never be able to stop her. She's smarter than I'll ever be, and has probably forgotten more than I'll ever learn. And thank God she's always there for me when I need her.
Christian Grey: You're a pansy. What would you possibly need a woman for?
Griffin Blasko: Fighting the good fight means using all the weapons at your disposal—I got the muscle, and Laila's got the huge, sexy brain. Together we're even stronger, and it's dicks like you that think she's nothing more than the Pureblood's Main Squeeze. Frankly, I'd love for you to meet her, just to see what would happen.
*There is a knock on the door. Laila pokes her head in, shooting a glare at Christian before returning her gaze back to Griffin. Christian sneers at her, which Laila ignores.*
Laila Chadevsky: Sorry to interrupt but, Griff, there's something you need to see.
Griffin Blasko: *up and out of his chair* No problem, babe. Be with you in a sec. *turns to Christian* You stay here—we're not done yet. We definitely got more to talk about. *walks out, closing door behind him*
*Once Laila and Griffin are out in the hall and away from Christian, she hands him a manila folder—a medical file. The patient's name is type-written in capital letters on the tab: WILLIAMS, LEILA. He flips it open, begins to study the contents.*
Laila Chadevsky: Just got this back today—her psychiatric evaluation. *when he raises an eyebrow* The real one, from an independent source. Had to pull some favours to get it.
Griffin Blasko: Major depressive/unipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress, suicidal tendencies... not a huge surprise, granted. Poor kid.
Laila Chadevsky: *pulling out a second manila file* This is her “official” diagnosis.
Griffin Blasko: *flipping through the second file* Schizophrenia with tendencies towards violence, defiance of authority.... *disgusted, slaps the file down on a nearby table* It's been dummied up.
Laila Chadevsky: Wait—you haven't heard the best part, yet. The psychiatric office where she's currently receiving care? Pacific Star Mental Health Clinic, a private practice, which has recently received a five-hundred thousand dollar grant from... wait for it... Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Griffin Blasko: *growls* Sunnuvabitch. He dropped her in there right where he could keep her under his thumb. And with the dummied-up diagnosis, no one will ever believe her when she says he's dangerous...
Laila Chadevsky: Because that would be seen as “defiance of authority.”
Griffin Blasko: That motherfucker!
Laila Chadevsky: We've gotta get Leila and Ana out of here, as far away from him as possible.
Griffin Blasko: Yeah, we already know that Leila had a “breakdown” just two weeks after she got married, which is really strange timing for a psychotic break. And that she and her new “boyfriend” had an auto accident which Leila, conveniently, was the only survivor.
Laila Chadevsky: Add Grey going missing for a few hours when his chopper went down in the middle of a national park, not long after Ana got back together with him...
Griffin Blasko: Makes sense... if you're a psycho. *off Laila's look* I mean, Ana's the newest and shiniest girl in his stable, and Leila's the most docile. And what do you do when your most prized mares threaten to bolt?
Laila Chadevsky: *grimacing* You tighten the reins.
Griffin Blasko: Yeah. And I thought I hated this fucker before...
Laila Chadevsky: We've gotta do something about him.
Griffin Blasko: But he's human and, speaking as a cop, he's out of my jurisdiction. Or, he seems human, anyway. Hard to tell with that Axe body spray he's wearing... gave me a headache. So Ye Olde Sniffer is off right now.
Laila Chadevsky: Unless we can get some samples, do some tests. Just to make sure. You know?
Griffin Blasko: *light-bulb expression*
Laila Chadevsky: And I think we can agree taking samples can sometimes be unpleasant for the patient, even sting a little.
Griffin Blasko: *grinning* No problem, babe. I can hold him down while you poke at him.
Laila Chadevsky: *with a grin that matches his* My thoughts exactly.
*Griffin and Laila re-enter the room, Laila bringing a medical bag with her and dropping it on a convenient table. When Griffin moves to stand behind Christian's chair, Christian has enough brains to recognize something's up.*
Christian Grey: Hey! *stands up, and is shoved back down into his chair by Griffin*
Laila Chadevsky: Oh, don't be alarmed, Mr. Grey. It's just a simple procedure. *smiles at Christian, goes back to rifling through medical bag* And, if you're a good patient, I'll even give you a lollipop.
*Christian's eyes widen as Laila un-tucks her Star of David necklace from under her shirt, while brandishing a REALLY BIG NEEDLE.*
Laila Chadevsky: Now, hold still. This is really going to hurt.
Author: Melissa Treglia (
Fandom: Fifty Shades Trilogy/Griffin Unbowed (homebrew)
Word Count: 2195 (for part two only)
Rating: R
Author's Note: See Part 1 for explanation and warnings.
Summary: Griffin Blasko, protagonist of Griffin Unbowed, vs. Christian Grey of the Fifty Shades trilogy.
===========================
Griffin Blasko: Hi. I'm Griffin Scott Blasko, the protagonist of Griffin Unbowed, written by Melissa Treglia and Nicole Harvelle. You know, just in case you missed it from the title. Like this guy, I'm a vampire cop. My job is as a constable with the Toronto Metropolitan Police Department, and my personal life... well, I'm the Pureblood, which is some sort of uber-vamp. I'm still reading the manual, here, because all the vampire stuff is very new to me. But I have a great girlfriend; Laila's sharp as a tack, and she keeps me sane amid the fucked-up-ness that is my life. And I'm a Scorpio, if you're into that astrology stuff.
Christian Grey: I am Christian Trevelyan Grey, CEO of the multinational billion-dollar company Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. My tastes are very singular; I enjoy boating, flying, and beating little brown-haired girls with a stick. Especially when they resemble my dead crack whore mother.
Griffin Blasko: *boggles* Uh, so... I guess we're into the dark, painful past stuff already. In that case... *deep breath* My mother died when I was three, and I spent my life in the foster care system. I don't remember my biological father. My foster father was verbally and emotionally abusive, and I spent my teen years acting out... doing the usual rebellious teenager type things. I straightened up pretty quick though and, once I reached the age of majority, I left foster care and joined the constabulary to protect and serve those who can't speak for themselves... or are too afraid to.
Christian Grey: My mother was a whore who smoked crack and got beaten up by her pimp a lot. She died when I was four, and I starved for days waiting for help.
Griffin Blasko: You already mentioned your mum was a hooker and an addict. And even four-year-olds know how to dial 911. Unfortunately, being as we're both fictional characters, our sad childhoods are neither unique nor special. And, even if they were, it's no excuse for whatever shit we pull now. We're both grown-ass men, dude. So stop blaming your mum for all the shit you can't handle. Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining, yeah?
Christian Grey: You can't possibly understand...
Griffin Blasko: I guess you were so busy drooling over your own reflection, that you spaced when I mentioned I have a dead mum too. My authors keep me self-aware enough to not blame my parents—either my real ones or my foster ones—for the bullshit I have to face now that I'm an adult. Some people in this world are just assholes, and your parents can't always protect you... as much as they might like to. Your mum probably did the best she could with the hand she was dealt—that's all anybody can ever do, especially when the hand you're dealt is complete shit. Believe me, I know a thing or two about that.
Christian Grey: If she hadn't been a fucking crack whore, she wouldn't have died!
Griffin Blasko: Ah, abandonment issues; I know them well. And how the fuck would you know where her life may have led her, if she hadn't been an addict? You got some kind of crystal ball thing going, man? Hell, if she wasn't an addict, she still could've gotten struck by a car while you were at daycare, or maybe had an aneurysm. Those suckers hit fast and hard—that awesome 80's singer Laura Branigan died from a brain aneurysm awhile back, and she was still pretty young at the time.
Christian Grey: You don't understand!
Griffin Blasko: Oh, no. I get it. You're a pretty, white, rich kid with First World problems. Woe is you. I'm sure the kids in Sierra Leone who are forcibly turned into coked-out killing machines, the babies starving in Somalia, the women in Afghanistan who are kept illiterate and under burqas, and the cartoonists being murdered by Muslim extremists in France, are all more than willing to spare a few tears for you. Even though you only care about them when you're bored. You self-centered dick.
Christian Grey: How dare you, you—
Griffin Blasko: *cutting him off* Oh right, right. Your life is so hard, given that you were hungry until the age of four, then immediately after that got the perfect life handed to you on a silver platter. The perfect wealthy foster parents who adore children and basically let you get away with murder. The hundreds of thousands of dollars loaned to you by your “special friend” as start up for your business. The placid, demure wife who never questions you, no matter how shitty you act towards her. You're the king of a twenty-floor castle, and you never have to see how the other half lives anymore. Oh yeah, it's hell being you. Self-made man, my ass.
Christian Grey: *fuming*
Griffin Blasko: You know what happened to me after I left my foster family? I had to start from the bottom rung. I paid for my own education at the academy, while flipping burgers and delivering pizzas, and running on four hours of sleep a day. And, up until a few days ago, I was still living in the same shitty apartment—on the wrong side of town and complete with shady landlord—that I'd first gotten after leaving my foster family. Plus, I started out just like everyone else on the force—a rookie in blues, and I made it to detective in the first place because I work my ass off. And while I'm not exactly swimming in loonies, and my girl is gonna earn more money as a doctor than I'll ever see as one of T.O.'s finest, I worked for every penny that's ever been in my hot little hands. I'm not a trust fund baby like you, and you know what? I'm actually kinda glad for it, because living among the dregs of society made me realize how important it is that someone speaks up for them. I'll never be a rich man... but at least my life has meaning. The hookers and the homeless guys and the drug addicts all need someone to look out for them... because “polite” society forgets they're even there, unless it's for a photo op to make the high-and-mighty set look like they're actually doing something for the “little people”, to feel better about the emptiness of their own lives.
Christian Grey: …
Griffin Blasko: ...That's it, isn't it? That's why you keep bangin' on this “poor me” drum. For all the God-given blessings and for all your wealth, your life is completely meaningless. And, rather than doing the grown-up thing and searching within yourself for the whys and hows, you instead look for someone else to blame. As long as you don't have to take a good hard look in the mirror to see what's really underneath. “An unexamined life is not worth living.” Socrates said it, and it's my motto. You should take it to heart too, boyo.
Christian Grey: I have everything any man could ever want...
Griffin Blasko: And you're still not happy. *rubs his index finger and thumb together* Look, I'm playing the world's smallest violin for you... and what the fuck was that earlier about beating up brown-haired girls?
Christian Grey: Because they look like my dead crack whore mother.
Griffin Blasko: *irritated* Yeah, I got that, dickwad. I know WHY you do it, I'm just curious how you decide a chick looks like Dead Mum. What does she have to look like to pass inspection?
Christian Grey: Long dark hair, fair skin, short and thin, light eyes...
Griffin Blasko: *pondering* Huh. Y'know, there's a lot of brunettes in the world. *runs hand through his short, somewhat spiky hair* Me being one... *suddenly squicked out* My girl Laila fits your description pretty well, even got the right eyes—they're green.
Christian Grey: Hmmm....
Griffin Blasko: Don't even think about touching her, asshole.
Christian Grey: *sneering* Why, you'll kill me?
Griffin Blasko: No, she will. My girl's pretty bad-ass—and what's more awesome than knowing the most important person in your life can pick up the slack when you get benched? I tell ya, it's a good thing Laila's one of the good guys and on my side... 'cos, if she was evil, I'd never be able to stop her. She's smarter than I'll ever be, and has probably forgotten more than I'll ever learn. And thank God she's always there for me when I need her.
Christian Grey: You're a pansy. What would you possibly need a woman for?
Griffin Blasko: Fighting the good fight means using all the weapons at your disposal—I got the muscle, and Laila's got the huge, sexy brain. Together we're even stronger, and it's dicks like you that think she's nothing more than the Pureblood's Main Squeeze. Frankly, I'd love for you to meet her, just to see what would happen.
*There is a knock on the door. Laila pokes her head in, shooting a glare at Christian before returning her gaze back to Griffin. Christian sneers at her, which Laila ignores.*
Laila Chadevsky: Sorry to interrupt but, Griff, there's something you need to see.
Griffin Blasko: *up and out of his chair* No problem, babe. Be with you in a sec. *turns to Christian* You stay here—we're not done yet. We definitely got more to talk about. *walks out, closing door behind him*
*Once Laila and Griffin are out in the hall and away from Christian, she hands him a manila folder—a medical file. The patient's name is type-written in capital letters on the tab: WILLIAMS, LEILA. He flips it open, begins to study the contents.*
Laila Chadevsky: Just got this back today—her psychiatric evaluation. *when he raises an eyebrow* The real one, from an independent source. Had to pull some favours to get it.
Griffin Blasko: Major depressive/unipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress, suicidal tendencies... not a huge surprise, granted. Poor kid.
Laila Chadevsky: *pulling out a second manila file* This is her “official” diagnosis.
Griffin Blasko: *flipping through the second file* Schizophrenia with tendencies towards violence, defiance of authority.... *disgusted, slaps the file down on a nearby table* It's been dummied up.
Laila Chadevsky: Wait—you haven't heard the best part, yet. The psychiatric office where she's currently receiving care? Pacific Star Mental Health Clinic, a private practice, which has recently received a five-hundred thousand dollar grant from... wait for it... Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Griffin Blasko: *growls* Sunnuvabitch. He dropped her in there right where he could keep her under his thumb. And with the dummied-up diagnosis, no one will ever believe her when she says he's dangerous...
Laila Chadevsky: Because that would be seen as “defiance of authority.”
Griffin Blasko: That motherfucker!
Laila Chadevsky: We've gotta get Leila and Ana out of here, as far away from him as possible.
Griffin Blasko: Yeah, we already know that Leila had a “breakdown” just two weeks after she got married, which is really strange timing for a psychotic break. And that she and her new “boyfriend” had an auto accident which Leila, conveniently, was the only survivor.
Laila Chadevsky: Add Grey going missing for a few hours when his chopper went down in the middle of a national park, not long after Ana got back together with him...
Griffin Blasko: Makes sense... if you're a psycho. *off Laila's look* I mean, Ana's the newest and shiniest girl in his stable, and Leila's the most docile. And what do you do when your most prized mares threaten to bolt?
Laila Chadevsky: *grimacing* You tighten the reins.
Griffin Blasko: Yeah. And I thought I hated this fucker before...
Laila Chadevsky: We've gotta do something about him.
Griffin Blasko: But he's human and, speaking as a cop, he's out of my jurisdiction. Or, he seems human, anyway. Hard to tell with that Axe body spray he's wearing... gave me a headache. So Ye Olde Sniffer is off right now.
Laila Chadevsky: Unless we can get some samples, do some tests. Just to make sure. You know?
Griffin Blasko: *light-bulb expression*
Laila Chadevsky: And I think we can agree taking samples can sometimes be unpleasant for the patient, even sting a little.
Griffin Blasko: *grinning* No problem, babe. I can hold him down while you poke at him.
Laila Chadevsky: *with a grin that matches his* My thoughts exactly.
*Griffin and Laila re-enter the room, Laila bringing a medical bag with her and dropping it on a convenient table. When Griffin moves to stand behind Christian's chair, Christian has enough brains to recognize something's up.*
Christian Grey: Hey! *stands up, and is shoved back down into his chair by Griffin*
Laila Chadevsky: Oh, don't be alarmed, Mr. Grey. It's just a simple procedure. *smiles at Christian, goes back to rifling through medical bag* And, if you're a good patient, I'll even give you a lollipop.
*Christian's eyes widen as Laila un-tucks her Star of David necklace from under her shirt, while brandishing a REALLY BIG NEEDLE.*
Laila Chadevsky: Now, hold still. This is really going to hurt.
*Fin*
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Date: 2015-05-11 06:48 pm (UTC)