The devastating cyber attack conducted on Newcastle University has uncovered Wattpad-style fan fiction on university servers, entitled “My mum sells me to Chris Day – Newcastle University AU Fanfic”. The news came as a shock to university higher-ups, who were surprised the Vice Chancellor had fans.
Over a month after the cyber attack, Newcastle students are still unable to access S3P, and their timetables have been thrown into chaos. Meanwhile, Vice Chancellor Chris Day can no longer play solitaire on his computer.
It would of course be highly inappropriate to run excerpts from this work of fiction, but it might be funny, and in the interests of free press we feel we have to.
I sat up in bed and threw my hair into a messy bun. The morning sun was just rising, sending light up my wall and over the extra-large poster of Chris Day’s face.
I stood up and stretched. As I studied the prospectus for Warwick University that was lying by my feet, I could hear my mum barrelling up the stairs. She opened the door and leant on the doorknob, her shock of frazzled auburn hair betraying how stressed she was. She looked me up and down with disgust.
“That won’t do at all. Put something nice on: we have a visitor. And put some make-up on.”
“But I don’t wear make-up.”
“I don’t care David!”
The door slammed behind her, and I could hear her rumble down the stairs again. I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, and started putting on something more figure-hugging.
Eventually, I made it down the stairs, and walked into the kitchen. My heart sank faster than Newcastle University in The Guardian rankings.
“Are you here to tell me off again?” I asked Chris Day, who was leaning on the counter sensually.
“No,” came that ambiguous accent, part Geordie, all sex appeal.
“Then…” I looked at my mum, whose face was still stern. “Why are you here?”
“Well,” the silver fox replied, “your mum has sold you to me.”
I stared into Chris Day’s quizzical blue orbs.
“That’s right,” he said.
“I had to come up with the nine grand for your year of Zoom lectures somehow!” my mum cried.
Chris Day walked over in a confident stride.
“You’re mine now.”
I realised he was holding pink fluffy handcuffs, and a whip. For now, the whip was as lax as Newcastle University’s policy on sexual harassment, but I know that would change.
He took me in his confident arms and [REDACTED] me on the mouth. Then he turned me over and ripped off my clothes, before hungrily [REDACTED] me all over. He found my [REDACTED] and put it in his [REDACTED] while I shoved his throbbing [REDACTED] in my [REDACTED]. He [REDACTED] me all day with just [REDACTED] and a lemon.
“Oh, [REDACTED]!” I cried, while he [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] me.
Two of our literary editors – a dominatrix with whom we hotdesk, who has a PhD in renaissance literature, and a Lampoon writer who’s read most of Moby Dick – have decided the other three hundred pages are not suitable for publication.
The Lampoon have attempted to track down the author of the fanfiction, but nothing has been found apart from the username ‘Belieber04’. A spokesperson for Newcastle University has denied that this is a pseudonym for Chris Day, even though we never actually asked them.