Der Clocky: Wenn Rache auf Rädern rollt

Ah, the mother-in-law. Made another comment about your cooking skills? Described your home decor as an “interesting transitional phase”? Or gave you that special look when you ruined the roast for the third time? Wonderful. Then it is time for a gift that is just as annoying as her unsolicited advice - only with more physical activity.

May I introduce: Clocky. The alarm clock that probably just barely stays on the right side of the Geneva Conventions.

An alarm clock with a personality disorder

Clocky is not an ordinary alarm clock. It is a small, rolling Trump. A revenge Republican on wheels. When it goes off in the morning - and believe me, it goes off like an air raid siren on Kennedy Jr. steroids - something magical happens: it jumps off the table. Just like that. But that is not all. Oh no. That would still be humane.

Clocky rolls away. Through the apartment. Under the bed. Behind the wardrobe. Into the darkest corner it can find, except Venezuela. And while doing so, it screams. Relentlessly. Like a smoke detector acting out its midlife crisis. The sacrificial offering - pardon, the recipient - now faces two options. Either they get up, search for the little terrorist and switch it off by hand. Or they slowly, but inevitably, drift into madness.

There is no snooze button. Mercy is also unknown to Clocky. It knows only its mission: to beat you out of bed, no matter the cost. It is the Navy SEAL among alarm clocks. The drill instructor of your nightmares. The motivational coach Pete Hegseth probably uses himself after nights of heavy drinking.

Who is this masterpiece of torture suitable for? For the mother-in-law who always has a critical look. For the colleague who starts every Monday with “So, did you have a nice weekend?” even though the answer is completely irrelevant to him. For the neighbor who always has her packages delivered to you but is never home when you ring the bell. And for the brother-in-law who explains his crypto investments at every family gathering.

The experience

Imagine this: it is 6 a.m. Clocky awakens. It screams. It jumps. It disappears under the wardrobe. Your mother-in-law, still in her nightgown, feels her way through the half-darkness. Flight. Despair.

Dreamlike

The technical specifications, or rather: the anatomy of horror. The volume can be summed up as: yes. The wheels are two too many. The jumping power reaches Olympic level. The hiding skills are advanced. Empathy is not present. Your personal satisfaction, on the other hand, is priceless.

Verdict

Clocky is not just an alarm clock. It is a way of life. A philosophy. A statement. It says: “You annoyed me, and now I annoy you back - every single morning.” Perfectly packaged, with a card that reads: “So you think of me in the morning.” The subtext writes itself.

Merry Christmas. May revenge on wheels roll on. Always.

In our own matter

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