Good evening ladies and gentlemen.

As we take a moment to look back on this year, I am reminded it is a miracle that we have made it this far. Though our continued thoughts are with Miss Happanovich - may she regain her sense of smell soon.

Our year started as it always does, full of hope and anticipation for the learning and growth to come, a feeling that lasted until a school record of eleven-thirty that first morning. The small fire that started, inexplicably, on the free throw line in the gym was fortunately extinguished when the second floor female bathroom spontaneously flooded causing a small tsunami to rip through the south stairwell.

The remainder of the fall semester was largely uneventful, save of course for the incident with the instant mashed potato delivery and the fire hose, the ensuing and appropriately named “fire mash mountain” attracting a number of rats to the school grounds. As Professor Buttleby, now “retired” head of science, gleefully explained though use of a flip chart, some rather colorful language, and, at one stage, an intricate diorama, the warm potato provided the perfect environment for the rats to form a colony of, and this is no exaggeration, biblical proportions. I am told as of this morning we have successfully reclaimed the Art Studio from the hoard. As always, please be on the lookout for signs of plague.

A new year brought new opportunities for this school to shine. Sadly, Mr Ribald’s Physics class has other ideas with their attempts to build a scale model of the Large Hadron Collider. I must admit I was as surprised as anyone when the thing actually worked when it created a miniature black hole and a trans-dimensional gateway that was helpfully closed by, and I hope I am pronouncing this right, Xlorathanicz the Younger from some unknown level of Hell. The Physics department should be rebuilt over the summer once we can find a way to stop the bricks from floating.

I am glad to say that the Junior’s field trip to the Pentagon went without international incident.

And lastly, our Spring semester, where it seems the entire school set to outdo themselves. The decision for the school production to be a musical version of the Arnold Schwarzenegger classic, Predator, was a brief error in judgement by the Drama faculty. The tale of a rocket-launcher toting alien slaughtering a team of special-Ops soldiers was particularly traumatizing for the visiting first-graders from the elementary school, though I must say that the second act finale, “If It Bleeds, We Can Kill It,” was something of a toe-tapper.

Speaking of teams, congratulations to the lacrosse team for not getting disqualified from the league this year - it is great to see you have the biting under control. And to the football team who won their twenty-seventh straight championship. Who says a propensity for violence is always a bad thing?

But despite all of the adversity this school has faced this year, academically there is progress. Test results are up - some of you actually attended year-end finals, although it seems all were only using the event to make what I am told is known as a “dirty protest.” I say to you that soda machine privileges will only be reinstated upon the safe return of Tibbles the school hamster and I will not be swayed by the use of biochemical weapons.

And now, here we are at prom. Summer is on the horizon, and who knows what tomorrow will bring? Dysentery, no doubt, considering the state of the hot dogs that were served earlier. But as I look out on your youthful faces and remember that right here in this room are the future leaders of our country, I can only think to myself “Thank God.” Because if you can survive this school, you can survive anything.

Good night and goodbye.