The funda of fitting is to and fro,
To Goodman’s tactics we should bow,
Many consider him a pain in the ass,
Including that lonely female lass.

Hexagons & cubes we make,
Some blades, in the process, we break,
Its his approval we vouch for,
His rejection turns us sour.

Getting bumps is very normal,
He makes you feel as if you are paranormal,
There can even be a pothole,
You feel like kicking Goodman with your shoe sole.

Champering, he says, is the finishing touch,
But the file, you find, is difficult to clutch.
He orders you to do it on one side,
Do it on both and you’ve got no place to hide!

There is a wide variety of tools,
But, to use them, are we really fools?
The entrance even exhibits a dick file,
Is the name meant to provoke rile?

His ASSisstant is a puny little guy,
To point out mistakes, he never feels shy,
The Plastics guy knows a lot more,
And he aint such a big bore.

Our hands, in the end, are filled with grease,
Some junta even take a repeat piece!!
All of us use a bastard file,
On a face, you can’t find a smile.

It makes you tired and exhausted,
You feel like crashing in your bed,
In the end, you get a ‘B’ grade,
Into thin air, your efforts fade..

Fitting was one of the workshops in first year. An interesting, painful, but now thinking back, enjoyable, experience.. Captured in the way I can do it best