Jack Percival is without a doubt the hottest piece of action on Whitman campus. Everybody is already queuing up to meet the virile, visionary vice-president from Nevada. Yet what is all the buzz about? Read on to find out.
Given that he is one of the most eligible bachelors on campus, Percival is incredibly modest.
“It’s utterly baffling. I’m so incredibly awkward that I’m sure everyone I interact with just wants to apparate out of there,” said Percival.
Well, I must admit that there is something ungainly about his appearance.
“When I see Jack Percival, all I can think of is a stork that somebody strapped a backpack to and taught how to talk,” said a source close to Percival.
Percival laughs off this description, readily admitting what many on campus suspected: that approximately 75 percent of his height is derived solely from his legs.
This gangling physique yielded one of Whitman’s most defining sights: the Jack Percival walk. Incredibly versatile, Percival’s stride has been likened to “a loping giraffe,” “an elderly man with a hip replacement,” “a spry male ballerina” and “a scuttling crab.” Despite these descriptions, Jack wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I love that people turn their heads to marvel at my walk. It makes me feel powerful,” said Percival.
I’ll admit that there is something strangely entrancing about those wildly swinging arms and bouncing legs.
Yet this is not Percival’s only attention-grabbing feature. His roommate reports that Percival often performs for her, blasting top-forty music whilst executing basic hip gyrations, as well as showing off reportedly more “exotic” moves. I’m still not entirely sure what those entail, but one thing is for sure: this boy has some hot tricks up his sleeve.
Percival has an impeccable sense of style and fashion. Despite owning a monochromatic wardrobe, he still somehow manages to look dashing. “When I’m shopping, I just picture a bunch of rocks and pick things that fit that image. I think it’s super masculine,” said Percival when asked why seemingly every article of clothing he owns is gray.
It certainly is. I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets a little sweaty when I see that stone-tone-clad-body enter the quiet room.
Despite his apparent perfection, Percival assures he is no different. “I’m just like everybody else. Sometimes after a long day of researching postwar liberalism, I just want to put on my suit, sip a corona and pretend I’m Francis Underwood,” he said.
