It was Pinhead's guilty pleasure.
The book had come highly recommended, and he had been sure the others would love it too. But they frowned upon it, calling it frivolous, and ridiculous, and Pinhead had to agree. There was no reason he should have enjoyed it. He had never tried, but he was sure he could have written a better novel himself. He certainly had a far better grasp of the rules of grammar. And as for the content, well – the others could only shake their heads, and Pinhead had no choice but to agree with them and toss the book aside, his face stony.
But that didn't keep him from smuggling his copy away with him, and reading it when he was alone. Though he knew it was essentially sacrilege, he couldn't help but enjoy, just a little bit, Fifty Shades of Grey.
Disclaimer: I hate Fifty Shades of Grey.