Win! Awesome Max Payne 3 Stuff!

You may have seen the new Max Payne 3 trailer released last week. If not, click above for noir, male patter baldness and a host of guns that will most likely tear the skin off your face... in slow motion. But that's not why we're here. Well, it's part of why we're here, but the main reason is to give away all this cool Max Payne 3 stuff.

The stuff we're giving away is as follows...

- Max Payne 3 Gun Bag - Max Payne 3 Target Tee (image below) - Max Payne 3 UFE Patch - Max Payne 3 Stickers - GTA III Anniversary Knuckleduster Mug - GTA III Limited Edition Lithograph

I've noticed that some of you guys/girls are great at creative writing so I've got an off kilter idea for this competition. Bear with me.

Kindly watch the above trailer. Right at the end of said trailer a man pulls a gun. That man is wearing a gold watch. For the competition I would like you to tell the story of that gold watch, and how it came to be on that man's wrist at that moment in time.

Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction, when Christopher Walken tells a young Bruce Willis about his Father's watch, and the difficulties he went through to deliver that watch? That's the kind of epic tale I'm looking for!

But there's a catch. You must reference at least two moments from the above trailer in your entry! And you must keep it less than 500 words. Best/funniest/most creative entry wins! And please try and keep it relatively clean!

Terms and Conditions can be found here!

This competition is also running on Gizmodo, but there are separate prize packs for both sites.


Comments

    such an AWESOME comp - can't wait to see some of the entries! :D

      I get the feeling Flu will come up with a cracker :D

        Flu, Bish, Shane, Blagh, Lambo and a few others will be worth the wait :)

          Flu, Bish, Shane, Blagh, Lambo, Chuloopa and a few others will be worth the wait :)**

          **FIXED

          Forgot yourself ;)

            Yep, Im out of this one... you guys (and others) will kill this one. Good luck all.

          I'm flattered to get a mention! Hope my entry don't disappoint!

          Also, how did I miss this article first time around??

      Are you entering Chuloopa? Your entries are awesome.

        "And please try and keep it relatively clean!"
        I doubt it...
        :P

        RC in Australia: awesome videogames as well as Chuloopa's creative writing posts.

          RC - Refused Chuloopa. :P

    Yay, another Kotaku comp!
    Nay, it's a creative writing comp (which I suck at :P)

    I won't be entering but good luck to those who do :D. I'm looking forward to your awesome entries :)

    21/02/2012
    Diary,
    Busy, busy day in the OR today. I barely had time to prepare correctly for most of my operations. Seems we are getting more gunshot wounds than ever before. Today I had a guy on the table that’d had several rounds tear through his bowel. He claimed it happened while he was cleaning his gun, but seriously if this guy wasn’t a criminal who got shot up in a deal gone wrong I’ll eat my scrubs. Took over two hours to patch up the damage he’d had done to him.
    Also, had a couple of teenagers come in. One of them had shot the other in the patella with a crossbow trying to recreate something called a “meem” or some such. Seriously, I think kids need to have their internet usage more strictly regulated if this is the kind of thing they think is actually funny.

    PS. On a slightly more concerning note… I seem to have misplaced the watch that Jennifer gave me for our last anniversary. I told her that I had just left it in my locker at work. However, I have a very bad feeling that I may have lost it in a patient. God I hope it wasn’t the guy with the bowel reconstruction. If it was him he’s going to have to “pass the time” in a most uncomfortable manner (gallows humor, I think I really missed my calling as a stand-up comedian).

    This is gonna be great.
    One question, whats a gun bag? And where do i get the gun to put in it?

    Argh... damn I forgot to reference the trailer. Fails. Count me out.
    *noob walk of shame*

      Though I suppose I technically did reference it twice... I mentioned people being shot (as can be viewed in the trailer) and I also mentioned the watch (which was also something that could be considered a moment from the trailer)... though I suppose mentioning the watch probably doesn't count due to it being a part of the competition.
      Okay how about this... my entry reads like a diary page from a doctor... doctors work at hospitals... at 32 seconds you can clearly see a city... cities have hospitals.

      Yeah? Seems pretty legit to me. I think I just got myself back into the competition. I'll see the rest of you at the party I throw myself once I've won.

    I told you this city was dangerous... But have I told you about this watch I'm wearing? I think in all of the excitement with those Favela gangs earlier I was GOING to tell you, but I got quite terribly distracted. It also doesn't make it any easier that you slow down my thought process - along with everything else - every time your feet aren't in contact with the ground. But I digress; this watch? I pried it from the hands of an infamous, drunken, gun-toting maniac. You see, I had actually been eyeing this watch for some time. Beforehand I wore a crappy silver watch with no real sentimental value – but from the moment I set eyes on this watch, I knew I just had to have it.

    Some time ago, I got my chance. The watch’s legendary original owner was none the wiser. Recognise it? That’s right, it’s yours, Max. Some time ago, you got pretty wasted. The great Max Payne, in the most vulnerable of states! But I didn’t want to kill you, no – there’d be other opportunities for that. I wanted that watch of yours; my thirst would only be sated if I were able to steal your watch so that I may wear it as I gloated in front of you at the climax of my inevitable betrayal! So I performed the old switcheroo; you woke with my crappy silver watch, and meanwhile I claimed this prize for myself.

    It had to have been one of the cleverest heists of all time. Do you know what you get when you combine slow-motion reaction times with hard alcohol? The two cancel each other out. You just get a regular human being with a watch that I really fancy a whole lot. This watch can therefore be thought of as a testament to how I am incredibly smart for having thought of that little equation. And I have to say, you’re pretty unimpressive when you’re normal.

    Checkmate, Max. I’ll wear this amazing watch to your funeral.

    When that man was a little boy he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth he was born with a silver watch. Growing up the man was teased for having a watch in his mouth at all times. He was also teased because the watch was silver instead of gold. So one day the man had his watch made into two pistols and saught vengenance. He killed all those who teased him for having a silver watch in his mouth. He only had one man remaining, the hardest of all to reach. This man was special, he was the one who started the teasing. He decided he only needed one gun to kill this man so he had one of the pistols melted so he could turn it into a watch. He then painted the watch gold because he secrelty wanted to be like the others but he didnt want to forget where he came from. The man with the watch in his mouth is angry and soon his revenge will be complete.

    In Sao Paulo if you’re not eating caviar you’re eating dirt. No other city in the world do you look out of your $20 million mansion and see the rolling hills of favelas, the slums, the shit of society. It’s ironic really that the best real estate in the city, the highest ground, the best views have been taken by the poorest people in the city, but in Sao Paulo that’s how it works. When there is no way to ever earn anything in life, when the government, the whole system is against you, you can’t wait for life to improve; you take what need and take what you want.
    As a child my uncle always told me the government and the corporations had raped our country of its resources and its wealth, so anything we took back was simply evening the score. I started working with my uncle and his friends when I was 12 years old, my mother was a whore, my father who-the-fuck-knows, so I was never missed. At first my uncle would get me to beg from foreigners, steal radios, Walkman’s anything we could get cash for. After a year or two my uncle always needed more ‘firepower’ he said, that was the key to taking this town back from the oligarch. When we got the guns, things got easier but at a cost, armed robbery, extortion, murders, my uncle was making more money in one week that I’d ever seen in my entire life, but we’d all committed unforgiveable sins. My uncle explained the Holy Father would forgive us our trespasses as we were simply taking back what was rightfully ours.
    Years went by, my uncle, myself and his 60 or 70 ‘freedom fighters’ continued to rob, kill and rape anyone that got in our way, and my uncle continued to espouse his rhetoric of fighting the broken system. But this confused me, often it was not the politians or the corporate CEOs that my uncle robbed or tortured, it was our own people, the weak and the unprotected. I even saw my uncle at the club drinking and gambling with police officers, ex-military men, people of power and influence. That is how I met Rodrigo Bronco. He told me he needed protection work, I was sick of my uncle’s hypocrisy so I agreed.
    I was making less money than I would working with my uncle, but for the first time I was fighting for something I could see, Favina Bronco. After protecting her for 4 months I was shot and killed in her kidnapping; the last thing I remember before taking my last breathe was the feeling of a man sliding my watch off my wrist. I had bought the watch with the money Bronco had given me, the only real thing I’d ever earned in life and some puta was prying it off my dead body. But that’s how it goes in Sao Paulo and I should know, I had 32 other men’s watches at home.

    (I'm going to be honest there is 503 words here, if this disqualifies me could you please let me know so I can make some changes and get under 500 words)

    It was a dark night, James was sprinting down the dark alley in his Hawaiian shirt he'd stolen from the local Hawaiin-Shirts shop. He picked up the phone and spoke "Hello? Victor?".
    "God dammit James, where are you? Get here now!" shouted his boss before abruptly hanging up.
    "I need to get there, fast" he mumbled to himself, before leaping into the nearest vehicle.
    "Get out! This ride is mine now!" he yelled, kicking out the elderly driver before screeching off into the distance.

    A few moments later he pulled up outside his office, he sprinted in, noticing the nearby guy with an RPG being a brute working for his enemy.
    He quickly sprinted toward the elevator, the brute noticed him and fired a rocket, it streamed toward him with fury as he dived into the elevator and the doors closed; just in time before the rocket reached him.
    "Hey James" chriped a man inside the elevator.
    "Just another day at the office, eh?" remarked James.

    As he reached the fifth floor, the doors opened and there stood Victor, with a gun pointed at James' face.
    "Boss? What are you doing?" he stuttered in disbelief.
    "You're late, we've almost finished without you" he chuckled lowering the gun, James didn't appreciate jokes that involved his life.
    "So, what do you need? I haven't got much time."
    "James, we're almost done with the trailer but we need something cool for this bad guy to wear" Victor remarked.
    "Hmm, how about a gold watch?"

    And that's the simple day in the life of a Rockstar employee.

    BoBo the clown raised his pistol to the temple of Max's head "I told you this city was dangerous."

    It wasn't always this way, BoBo had a promising career, had won awards, one of the trophies he had won was his wife, she was hot and wanted to be dangerous. She had given him a golden watch and he made a promise to himself never to take it off. During an ill fated children’s party while doing his trade mark 20 foot balloon animal his watch pinched one of the balloons and sent a ripple effect that detonated the entire animal. Balloon pieces flew everywhere, children ran, screaming, trying to escape the carnage. After all the dust settled four children had lost their sight and Spot the dog escaped the yard, never to be seen again. His career was over. His money dried up and his wife left him, leaving only a note explaining how much of a disappointment he was and, most painfully, in the last few lines of the letter explained how she was cheating on him with Max Payne, a real man, dangerous and that the watch was originally his.
    From that day BoBo the clown died. Replaced with a cold man with a burning desire to seek vengeance on Max, the man he blamed for everything, keeping the watch as a constant reminder of his sole purpose in life. Revenge.
    Tonight, hell was going to get a little crowded.

    The history of [Insert semi important player character enemy 201241456 with lines name here] gold watch starts a long time along, at 7am this morning. See [Insert semi important player character enemy 201241456 with lines name here] has a daughter, and that day she missed the bus to school, so here father [Insert semi important player character enemy 201241456 with lines name here] said he will drop her off in an hour after his breakfast. What he didn't know was that for the past few months, her daughter has become quite the artist, after practicing on an Udraw Ps3 tablet she found dumped in the hundreds in an half filled ditch, and had become quite the artist since. So during that morning she noticed that her father couldn't fine his gold watch, so she said I will draw you one, and over that hour she draw what is the masterpiece " [Insert semi important player character enemy 201241456 with lines name here] gold watch". You see people that isn't really a gold watch, it was drawn by an talented person and to never under estimate the Udraw tablet which later went on to sell millions of units because of this story and save THQ.

    Creative writing? Lame..

    Once upon a time a man bought a gold watch from a jewellery store. Then he shot someone and went looking for some guy's wife. The end.

    Max got the watch from his late wife,Michelle. While working for Branco,his watch was stolen.brancos wife was kidnapped.Max went on a killing spree earning money to get brancos wife back.After many nights killing many gang members he came upon Brancos wife,dead.Behind max was Branco,He pistol wipped max.He looks up an sees Branco rising his arm with a gun in hand, an his watch on his wrist!! He tells max that his wife was stealing money from him an that he used him to get it all back.He also told max that maxs expartner who sent him to brazil was brancos son! An that mona sax was his daughter. It was a setup the whole time.Then Max pants's Branco an the gun lands in maxs hand, he kills branco.He walks away to go home. Home to NY..with his watch an his life.

    why do all these comps have to be about people doing inteligent writing??? im just a stupid steel worker that has no degree in writing and can be fucked for that matter and just have give aways?

      You want free stuff, attend a uni open-day or start up a riot in a shopping centre :P
      s'just a bit of fun lol; it's not always creative writing, though it's usually always something involving a bit of creativity. You can still type something up and join in the fun regardless of how confident you are in your writing!

    :D
    http://penny-arcade.com/comic/2004/09/01

    That is how he got the watch!

    Long ago, in the dark dark ages (so like 2003) there was a watchmaker in Brazil. He had started out as a gentle soul, but the ongoing trend of slow motion action was driving him mad.

    One dark knight, after watching another cheesy action film stuffed to the gills with slow motion sequences, he had had enough. He called out to the heavens for a solution to this slo-mo problem, but it was not the heavens that answered.

    The dark forces bestowed upon him a watch, that would curse whoever wore it to die by slow motion.

    He kept the watch on his person, waiting for the perfect opportunity to use it, but his plans were derailed as he was walking down the street. seems he had walked into the middle of a gun fight, and as he sheltered behind a car he heard slow mo bullets impact the car, until it ignited. He only had time to yell "SLOOOOW MOOOOOO" before the vehicle exploded.

    The next morning, after the fire subsided, a policeman was picking through the remains on the street, combing for evidence. "That's a nice and surprisingly untarnished watch," he thought, slapping it onto his wrist. Suddenly a message came over the radio: "crazed slow mo gunman rampaging through the streets." He rounded a corner, and ran right into the gunman, bowling him over. As he drew and pointed his pistol at the gunman, he suddenly realised he was moving in slow motion...

    But the gunman wasn't.

    "Hello Victor"

    "What happened, Max?"

    "I don't know. I was tricked. I think. I went with my mate Stephen down to Highpoint Shopping Centre after you told me about that really nice Tissot T-Sport PRC 100 Titanium you saw on special.."

    "With the unique titanium wristband?"

    "Yes.. That's the one! Anyway, Stephen wanted to have a go on the coin-operated helicopter ride near the entrance (the one with the kittens on it), and also indicated to me he wanted some fairy floss for after, so I told him "Knock yourself out" while I went off to Goldmark.

    "So I get to Goldmark and go to get the watch - a real beaut by the way, Victor, well spotted - and wouldn't you know it, I left my wallet with Stephen, who had since gotten bored and run off somewhere. After walking around Highpoint for about an hour, stopping only briefly to watch that Mouse Trap-type thing from the early 90s where billiard balls roll around on those metal tracks.."

    "I KNOW! That thing's amazing - how do they mock the laws of physics like that?"

    "No one knows, Victor. So anyway, I finally found Stephen, he's waving around a plastic gun and an icypole and he's bought a bag full of random sh*t. I asked him why and he said "I'm hot, and wanted to be dangerous". After I got my wallet back off him he ran off again. Very odd behaviour for a 36 year old man, but it was his first trip down from the country so I could understand his excitement.

    "I checked the wallet and realised Stephen's gone and spent half the money. Disappointed, I walked out to the car park. Just outside the entrance, I saw a reputable looking young man with a van and a nice tracksuit, and as luck would have it, he was selling watches! And you should have seen these prices - for half the cost of that Tissot I got a gold Rolex! Who was I to resist?

    "It wasn't until I was halfway to the car that I realised the watch was Bolex brand. I turned around to tell the savvy young salesman to purchase his stock from a supplier that understands the merit of brand recognition and correct spelling, but he was gone."

    "Pff. Will they ever learn."

    "I found Stephen near the car. In a hyperactive, icypole-fuelled state, he had tripped over and skinned his knee. I picked up his toy pistol and handed it to him.

    "I told you the city was dangerous"

    When I come too I’m face down in the street, surrounded by burning debris. My memory is hazy, and only playing back the important parts of the last 12 hours, seeing Bronco’s wife for the first time…. Nearly taking an RPG to the back of the head. Either they haven’t found me yet or they’re all dead. Neither matters very much. When one enemy dies another is bought to fill his place, they allure of drugs and women to powerful to keep otherwise normal men from doing unspeakable deeds. I hate this country, it reminds
    me of New York.

    Briefly I think back to Mona, and a twinge of guilt pulls at my heart like a lion ripping the insides out of a gazelle. That’s the problem with regaining consciousness, everything comes back to you instantly, but intensified.

    I slowly scramble to my feet and pick up my Beretta. 1 clip left. I see one of the men who tried to double cross my lying dead to my left. I pick up his gun. It was at that moment I copped a boot to the face. I flew backwards and landed on my back.

    A man walks over to me, kicks away my gun and in an act of utter alpha-male robs me of my gold watch. That’s the problem with career soldiers, they forget cops have seen it all, his scare tactics equate to that of a high school bully.

    He raises his gun to my face “I told you this city was dangerous” he says. It was only then I realised who I was speaking too.

    It was only then I started having doubts about getting out of this alive.

    This story started how it ended, with a bang.

    I was production built, steel underlay, gilded to look like gold. A cheap adornment for those who wanted to look rich. I'd been bought by some party-goer, part of the "night life." Life was cushy. Fairly boring though. I was cleaned occasionally, usually just when some broad would chuck her drinks. So once or twice a week at times. I don't think I'll ever understand the appeal of that life. But it all came to an end.

    One night, some classy party, some low class gatecrashers. Guns blazing, they burst in, after some broad. My owner gets in the way, some worthless attempt at chivalry, and *bang*, I'm down here. São Paulo, a perfect place for this guy. Some thug for some gang or another, I don't really pay much attention. Life's still not that interesting, his shoes are involved in kicking some men for money, his dick's involved with some street whores, but his hands only seem involved in hitting his wife, so that's all the action I got. Flecks of skin, the grime from the street, dirt, they all caked me. That all changed yesterday.

    Some guy was causing problems, shooting his way through the town. I think he was after that party broad, though I can't say I'm sure. He ran at this thug, all I can do was tick over, as the life seeped out of his body. A gun pointed at his head, a yelled question, and his body goes limp. Time passes. Three hours, twenty-eight minutes, and sixteen seconds, if we're going to be precise. His wife is there, well, widow now, I guess. She cries a lot, more than she did, even as he beat her, which is surprising. The gang wants the body, but she takes me. I don't really know why, all she does is take me to the boss. A tearful request, and I exchange hands yet again.

    He cares more about me than the last guy, surprising, given he seems to be far richer. Once he gets me, he pulls me apart, takes a look inside. Normally I'd mind, but his hands are gentle, they caress my insides. I'm cleaned, put back together. I haven't felt like that in a long time. That was yesterday. The guy's been found. It didn't take long, a trail of corpses will at least lead you somewhere quickly. The guy puts up a fight, but he's outnumbered. The lead in his body begins to weigh him down, until its just him, and my owner.

    "Oh Max," I hear, my owners voice filled with mock pity, "I told you this city was dangerous."

    And it ends, with a bang.

    It was just another day at the office.

    At least that's how it started.

    It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when everything went to hell, but it was definitely too late by the time I realised what I’d gotten myself into. Rodrigo Branco was not the worst boss I’d ever had, but he seemed to have a particular knack for getting the people around him into trouble too big for them to handle.

    Being kicked awake was not my idea of a pleasant way to be roused, but it was fairly typical for me to sleep through my alarm, especially after a rough night like the night before; sometimes after work, all I’d want to do is crawl deep into my bottle and stay there.

    “Wake up, you drunk. Boss wants to see you.

    Groaning with pain not caused by the steelcaps, I rolled over and hauled myself up off the floor; the Sao Paolo sun hit me like a tonne of bricks, but I managed to squint my way to the boss’ office.

    I had only been here once before, the day I moved down here from NYC, a disgraced mercenary looking for a second chance. My story was no different from most of the white folk in South America; the land of second opportunity was loaded with folks shuffling off the shame and regret of their past lives, their mistakes forgotten and transgressions forgiven. Branco had taken me in and given me a low-level job keeping an eye on his infrastructure.

    Why I’d been summoned here this morning, I had no idea... but I was given a hint before Branco even turned to face me.

    “We’re bringing in a new man,” Branco said, still looking out the window to the crowded streets below. “Max Payne.”

    I flinched; couldn’t help it.

    He was still facing away from me, but his head turned slightly in my direction. “You’ve heard of this Payne.”

    It was not a question.

    “Yeah, I ran into him once in New York. Some years ago now.”

    “And?”

    “If he’s here, we’re all dead. Pretty much what happens to anyone he comes near, whether loyal to him or not.”

    At this Branco nodded once; he gestured with one finger and his heavy stepped forward towards me. I flinched, suddenly acutely aware that I was unarmed and completely unprepared to defend myself. When the thug reached into his inner jacket pocket, all I could do was half-twist away in some pathetic instinct-driven desire to at least look like I was trying to save myself.

    Branco’s eyes never left mine. “This is what we have heard also.

    “You are one of the few men who have survived an encounter with this man. So we are reassigning you.”

    At this last, his thug clicked something into place around my wrist.

    It was the golden watch. The contract.

    My redemption.

    I knew what I had to do.

      (Compliance details: Marked in bold are the trailer references. Total word count = 485)

        Also fair to mention: I entered here (different story though): http://www.gizmodo.com.au/2012/02/win-awesome-max-payne-3-stuff/comment-page-1/#comment-248668

        Only want to win one prize please! :P

    The man drops to the floor, dazed and confused. He sees his daughter being dragged away, soundlessly sobbing. He fumbles with his feet, trying to get back up. A hand swipes out, the gold watch making contact with his now bleeding face.
    "Wait!" The man cries out.
    They pause, looking at him curiously.
    "You're messing with the wrong man. With the wrong mob."
    They smile at him, like a child with deluded dreams.
    "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you."
    "Good luck."
    The man leaps into action, pulling out a hidden gun from underneath his bed. Four shots, four bodies. Four pools of blood, merging into one. They never stood a chance.
    The man gets up, picks up the gold watch and puts it on. His daughter is on a heap on the floor, blood seeping into her dress, evidently in too much shock to react in any other way other than to sob hysterically.
    The man drops to the floor and comforts his daughter.

    Always.
    Always on the side of good. He will save the kingdom they say, He will save his family they say, but most of all...he will save himself...so they say.

    We obey. Through the ages we helped these men. We were embodied in a different form each time but we were there. In a dagger, in chewing tobacco, in a battle suit, in epidural drugs...in a simple watch.

    We were called many things - Reflex time, Slow Down Time, V.A.T.S, Dead Eye, Bullet Time. Some of my kin termed our roles as "Keepers of Time". I do not like that. The name suggests a kind of omnipotence reserved for the Gods. And we are not Gods. How can we be?

    Always.
    Always on the side of good. When was the last time our powers helped anyone save themselves? The prince who wielded the dagger of time never escaped his dark fate. The cowboy who was gifted the Dead Eye was murdered in cold blood. My union with Mr Payne...My powers only brought him despair. After the episode with his family and Mona Sax, he was a shadow of his former self. Did you see it? A pissing drunk, unshaven and scraggy, passed out on the table in his underwear. What a pathetic sight. I was still on his wrist then, under the guise of a silver watch.

    I've had time to think. The good side never wins. Maybe I was picking the wrong side. What if I granted someone else this power? Someone who was not bound by the chains of human morality, who regarded life no more sacred than the mud on his shoes? So I left Mr Payne and I turned my back on my kin. They were wrong! The good does not deserve our powers! They squander it on petty self-righteous acts, pitifully clinging to the naive hope of somehow saving everyone. Ultimately they fail to save even themselves.

    This is where I belong. In the hands of a worthy man. Did you see it? When I slowed down the flight of the rocket as it blasted through wood and metal? It has been years since I last saw Mr Payne, I am surprised he mustered the courage to come back. He had lost his hair. He has a new watch.

    Always.
    Always on the side of good. They will never learn. When I left, It looks like another of my kin took my place. A new silver watch...But they chose the wrong side. The worthier man stands victorious. I am not glad to see Mr Payne die, but this is how it should be. As the worthier man raises the gun, I, now in the guise of a golden watch, have got a clear view of Mr Payne's face. He will not survive this. I will make sure of it.

    Well, hello, beautiful. And you *are* beautiful. You look nervous. Is it the watch? You want to know how I got it? Come here. Hey! Look at it. So I had a wife, beautiful, like you, who tells me I’m late too often. Who tells me I ought to be on time more. Who has this great big grandfather clock… look at me! One day, I accidentally smash the clock face. And we have no money to fix it. She can’t take it. I just want to my wife back, hmm? I just want her to know that I don’t care about her grandfather clock. So… I stick a finger in my mouth and do this… [flicks the finger out of his mouth and makes a loud pop sound] …to myself. And you know what? She can’t stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I can afford gold watch. Now I’m always on time!

    Wanna know how I got this watch? My father was... a local business man, built things! And one night he comes home later than usual. Mommy points to the clock on the kitchen wall and berates him; he doesn't like that. Not... one... bit. So, me watching - he shows the watch to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me, and says.. "Why so LATE?" So, he comes at me with the watch, "Why so LATE?!" He sticks the gold watch in my face, "See the broken dial on that face! That’s.... why so late?”

Join the discussion!