In a promotional video for his new movie The Mountain Between Us, Idris Elba sits down and reads some fanfic and I want to know which one of you hookers goes by the pseudonym Jelly Bean Julia? Diamond Shy, where you at? What I’m saying is this could be any of us. Who among us has not harbored elaborate and unlikely scenarios where Idris springs like a snake in gag can of nuts from the confines of his trousers into our eagerly waiting hands/orifices?
I can only imagine the abject depravity and utter lunacy of the reject pile that’s led to the few tame letters Idris agrees to read. As goofy as they are though, I gotta give it up for Idris because I watched him reading these and had to empty the bucket sitting under my chair three times. Idris could read through Thomas Pynchon’s collected works and I’d sit tingly and erect throughout. Idris could mime an entire Marcel Marceau routine at me and I’d mirror his every move, never once breaking eye-contact. Idris could lecture me about the finer points of corporate tax law and I’d be picturing him stroking my de minimis with his fiduciary holding until I had a comparable uncontrolled transaction, spraying annuities and dividends all over his chest. Yes, Idris is that good.
And Idris knows this, oh how he knows it. Idris is game. Look at the subtle way he leans in to the camera and periodically rubs his hands in a sensual manner. In the story Magical Neon Sexuality, Idris is such a good sport he only gives the slightest hint of “seriously?” with his eyebrows when he reads the description of himself as “chocolate“. Very restrained. He’s working these basic bitches into a froth like a Starbucks barista during pumpkin spice latte season.
Here’s Idris playing us all like fiddles.
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