Maybe Don’t Come Back? A Message from the Dean of Law & Order’s Hudson University

Dear Members of the Hudson Community,

As you know, in response to the growing concern over the COVID-19 pandemic, last month we were forced to close down our campus and cancel all in-person classes for the foreseeable future. And to be perfectly honest with you, as difficult as the decision was at the time, it has probably been the best thing to ever happen to this university.

I don’t know if you’ve realized it (though I honestly don’t see how you couldn’t), but for the longest time our campus has been plagued by crime—I’m talking a disproportionate amount. Just last semester, for example, we were averaging a murder and/or sexually based offense per week (oddly enough, most criminal activity seems to be committed on Thursdays between 10 and 11 pm). In fact, there’s a very good chance that you or someone you know was either the victim or perpetrator in a serious offense over the past school year. The numbers are simply that staggering.

Statistically speaking, you are 20 times more likely to be sexually assaulted or killed on our campus than you are to contract the coronavirus. Although I don’t have any evidence to prove it just yet, part of me strongly suspects that the sole purpose of this institution is to drive up arrest numbers for the Special Victims Unit of the NYPD. There’s simply no other explanation for the ubiquitous presence of Detective Fin Tutuola on our school grounds. I mean, the man has a meal plan with us.

It almost feels like my entire job consists of responding to criminal complaints. Seriously, on any given school day I’d say I spend about 80% of my time being interviewed by the police or pulling up school records on students who have either met their demise in some sort of grisly fashion or are the prime suspect in an investigation, and the remaining 20% on actually running the school—and I’m being generous.

You can imagine how emotionally taxing that has been on me. I have devoted my entire adult life to higher education, working my way up from associate professor to a tenured position to finally becoming the Dean, only to serve in a damage control capacity. Even then the only reason I got the job in the first place is because the last Dean was brutally murdered by one of the professors, who turned out to be a sociopathic serial killer working under a fake name (where was Detective Tutuola then?).

I am quite frankly stunned that parents continue to send their children to Hudson. Don’t they realize that they’re practically shipping them off to murder camp? They’d be better off sending them to prison, or one of the SUNYs!

I am constantly looking over my shoulder whenever I’m on campus. Hell, you’ve likely seen me sprint from my office to my car each night. You simply can’t be too safe around here. I sometimes tell myself that the only reason I haven’t quit is because I want to try and protect my students, but the more likely explanation is that I feel a certain degree of guilt over all the lives that have been lost under my watch, and sticking around until I meet a similar fate is my way of atoning.

I have been looking for an excuse to shut this place down for ages, but some guy named Dick Wolf has an inexplicable influence over the Board of Trustees, preventing it from ever happening, even as the bodies continue to pile up on the quad. And I mean literally pile up, as the Sophomore Slasher continues to evade apprehension.

Thankfully, given the uncertainty surrounding the COVID-19 situation, it doesn’t seem that the university will be reopening anytime soon, but when it does, I strongly suggest that you consider not returning.



The Dean of Hudson University

American Smile

I clenched my teeth, seething at this age-old American innocence, the belief that at the end of the day, Americans meant well and, really, that ought to be enough. Enough to claim the perch of fame, the pedestal of saviors.

All the Ways