Finals, in the form of Poetry

I swear, my best ideas come when I'm half tired or sick.

ICS Test
Horribly ripped off from Jabberwocky

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'Twas chilly, and the geeky boy,
did tire and stumble through the rain.
All tired was the little boy,
For ICO was to truly dread.

"Beware the Comp. Sci. Test, my son,
The logic that bites, the gates that catch!
Beware the Assembly Code, and shun
The frumious Binary math."

He took his Graphite tool in hand,
Long time the lecture hall he sought.
So rested he in the comfy seat,
and sat a while in thought.

And as in weary thought he sat,
The Comp Sci Test, with sheets a many,
Came rushing up the crowded aisle,
And curses heralded its pain.

One-Oh, One-Oh, And True and True!
His Graphite Tool went Clicker-Clack!
He solved it dead, and with it in hand,
He went galumphing back.

"And has thou solved the Comp Sci Test?
Come to my arms, my brilliant boy!
Of fragious day, Good Game Good Game!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas chilly, and the geeky boy,
did tire and stumble through the rain.
All happy was the little boy,
For ICO was truly dead.

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Please don't sue me, Lewis Carrol. I have no money...