Early this morning, in a solemn ceremony during which tragically obsoleted sexy-person Bradley Cooper was relieved of his crown, smeared with hot tar, handed a garbage bag full of grocery-store-quality hair product, and left for dead in the Nevada desert, Channing Tatum was named People's newest Sexiest Man Alive. Considering a breakout year capped by his panty-atomizing stripper shenanigans in Magic Mike, Tatum's coronation was an easy — and dare we say uninspired — choice for the magazine's blue-ribbon panel of hunk-evaluators; one imagines the usually combative Selexxxion Sunday debate began with "Let's watch the 'My Pony' scene again" and ended with an intern ladling smelling salts from a bucket.
It all seems so easy, in fact, that we just couldn't let it go. There's another solution to the Sexiest Man Alive riddle, one far more challenging, but no less deserving, of the supermarket checkout rack's highest honor. And so we picked up the phone to get the reaction of this year's most upsetting snubee: Michael Fassbender's penis. Our conversation follows.