Our campus’s most distinguished news outlet shares a name with something young guys like me are all too familiar with. After a dry week when I forget or get too busy to pump one out, I might wake up with a wet thigh. And with each soiled pair of boxer briefs comes an interesting story that led up to such a climactic finish. I will now describe my most recent pipe dream for the sex depraved BUTT fanatics.
Tuesday: I’m alone in the Marketplace at 10 pm. The lights are off and not a single place is open. As I pass by the bookstore I notice something strange at the Baxter the Bearcat bench. The Bearcat seems like he’s moving. I hear a sound on the Spine and turn away for a second and when I turn back around Baxter is in my face asking me to prove my Bearcat spirit. The bearcat starts rubbing it’s cold metal fingers along my face as I start to get uncomfortable and back away. “Baxter, what are you doing,” I say.
Baxter stares deep into my eyes. “Something I’ve always meant to do," they say. "Take a seat on my bench and call me Bianca if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
Before I go deeper into this Bearcat sex dream let me just state that there’s a 25% chance you’ll have this same dream after hearing the conclusion. Now back to Bianca’s bench. Bianca takes off her Binghamton jersey and asks me to touch her tail-Oh- what’s that? My editor is telling me that I can’t go on with the story. Apparently libel laws are still a threat to satire publications? Didn’t the Onion once do erotica? No? Alright, send in your own fanfic ending, if I get anymore descriptive we’ll get punished by the school worse than a frat that waterboards it’s pledges.