Hall Building Ceilings Lined With Cash, Not Asbestos

“Flowy’s Gold” Discovered, Concordia Looks to Close Funding Gap

Graphic Paul Marsden

Concordia folklore has it that behind the ceiling tiles of our decrepit Hall Building lies enough asbestos to effectively wipe out all 40,000 Concordia students through debilitating respiratory illness.

As a result, the tiles are to be left untouched.

However, a series of documents that have been slipped under the door at The Broken Mirror over the past two weeks suggests otherwise.

Written in a delirious scrawl across 14 pages of the first package are the words, “THERE’S ALWAYS MONEY IN THE HALL BUILDING.”

The document is signed “DJ Flowy,” a name coined by two-time former Concordia President Frederick J. Flowy.

Another package delivered several days after the first contains a map with the title “Flowy’s Gold” etched into the top left corner.
On the reverse side of the map is a long letter detailing the supposed history of the wealth lining the walls of the Hall Building.

Nearing the end of his first term, Flowy describes that he “felt the dogs closing in,” and that he had to hide what money he could before it was too late.

“That old wench was eyein’ me ship, an’ I knew what would happen if she got her hands on the treasure,” explains Flowy in his letter, referencing his predecessor Wormsworth, though clearly suffering from some mania. “Me an’ the fiddlers three chose to stow away the booty till ol’ Wormsworth was gone, yarr.”

Letters have since stopped coming, and Flowy is nowhere to be found.

The Hall Building has been locked since last week, though a large black flag brandishing the Jolly Roger appeared atop the building last night.

Sources close to university administration have suggested that the money will be considered to help in closing the funding gap created by government cuts to universities across Quebec.

In an emergency Board of Governors meeting called to address the issue, Concordia President Alan Pastor could be seen winking at board members and mouthing the word, “Jackpot.”

Pastor erupted in an uncharacteristic show of enthusiasm while leaving the meeting, throwing his arms in the air and shouting, “Mange ma bite, Polly!” before being hauled away by Concordia spokesperson Tina Meta.

In a letter to the community the following day, Pastor expressed his regrets.

“I’ll be the first to admit that I got a bit carried away back there,” wrote Pastor in the letter, which was also distributed to media. “It’s all the French I know.”

The board will decide on “Flowy’s Gold” in a closed meeting next Friday.

NOTE: This is spoof content. All characters and events in this article—even those based on real people—are entirely fictional.