He’s been prowling the halls. He’s been purposefully striding from place to place. He walks, talks, acts like a man—but I know the truth. Andy Evans of Room 58 is, in fact, a stack of ducks wrapped in an inconspicuous trench coat. The amount of evidence to support this inconceivable fact is overwhelming.
Let’s start from the beginning. The average duck is 5 inches tall. Coincidentally, Mr. Evans measures to exactly 6 foot 3 inches tall—75 inches, in other words. How many ducks fit in a 75 inch tall space? Exactly 15 ducks… Plus 2 geese for the arms, of course. Here’s the doozy: If you add 15 (# of ducks) + 2 (# of geese) + 58 (Room number), you get the number 75– coincidentally, Mr. Evans’ exact height in inches.
Coincidence? I think NOT.
Furthermore, a more obvious piece of evidence, just a peek into Andy Evans’ classroom reveals waterfowl of all shapes and sizes dotting the walls of his classroom. The giant, sequined cardboard duck dangling from the ceiling, the ducks above the whiteboard watching benevolently over the classroom, and his otherworldly obsession with having one’s “ducks in a row”; whatever that means. An interest of this caliber doesn’t just allude to good taste, but his concealed identity as well.
In my tireless efforts to expose Westmont’s duck man for who he is, I’ve come up with one last shred of evidence. Anyone who has enjoyed Andy Evans’ teaching style for more than a couple of days can attest that he indeed possesses the most peculiar habit of making odd little noises every now and then. Often sounding similar to a disgruntled duck, some of his most common expletives and mannerisms include “D’oh!” or “Argh!” or extended head movement to exaggerate a point.
The truth is undeniable. Let us recognize our resident stack of intelligent waterfowl for who he is: Andy Evans, the Westmont Duck man.