My son doesn't say get, he says git.
His teacher paddled him after throwing a fit.
His teacher said that he'll learn proper English or pay the price.
I took care of that sorry ba*tard who isn't very nice.
I threatened to whoop him over the phone and he said that I wouldn't say that if we were face to face.
I went to the school and now he has broken arms, broken ribs and a neck brace.
I whooped him so hard that he decided to quit.
He'll never paddle another child for saying git.
(This is a fictional poem.)