The last stop is the bedroom, where a big brass gong sits next to the bed. "What's that gong for?" the friend asks him. "It's not only a gong..." the drunk replies. "It's a talking clock." "Really? How does it work?" The drunk picks up a hammer, gives the gong an ear-shattering pound and steps back. Suddenly, someone on the other side of the apartment wall screams, "YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!! It's 3:30 in the FUCKING morning!"