You know what? Bugger woodworkers making things in giant workshops. I want to see an amateur from the arse end of urban decay. Cramped in a humid room with the smell of fungus. I want to see them trying to mark and cut a sheet of plywood with it balanced on the back of a chair at an angle, while a pallid energy saving light bulb sweats electric twilight into the room. I want to see the rage boil in their eyes as the pound shop screw driver bits shatter and strip the head for the third time.
