The Talking Clock

Late one night (after a few drinks), a guy is showing some friends around his brand-new apartment. The last stop is the bedroom, where a big brass gong sits next to the bed.

“What’s that gong for?” his friends ask.

“It’s not a gong,” the guy replies. “It’s a talking clock.”

“How does it work?”

The guy picks up a hammer, gives the gong a floor-shaking pound, and steps back. Suddenly, from the other side of the wall, a voice screams, “For cryin’ out loud, you jerk! It’s 3:30 in the bloody morning!”