He definitely got the hint this time; “If you come back once more drunk at three in the morning we’re quits.” Separate rooms, was already an ongoing punishment since years. But habits are pragmatic survivors, albeit quarter to three this time as he left the pub. As he ventured stealthily through the hallway towards the steps not daring to use the lights the Coucou clock sounded three in the morning all bells and whistles. It dawned onto him that if he would finish off the remaining nine coucous, so that if his wife was listening he would at least have one ally in the house; smart thinking Huh! Next morning during breakfast the wife said “I’m bringing the Coucou-clock in for repairs.” “Oups! Why? What for my dear?” “Well, last night at midnight it coucou’d great up to three, but then after that it started going weird, quack-quack, and even started swearing and being vulgar just as you do when you’re drunk!”
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