Clocks Don't Tell Lies (Don't Hug Me I'm Scared)

((A short thing I wrote for the Don't Hug Me I'm Scared page I admin on. I think I got a bit too creative. Maybe I had too much time on my hands.
-PLB is great at puns))

Harry blew his nose. He had listened to the rain too much, and now he was sick. But he supposed Paige would find that... "creative." He shook his head and wrapped some more blankets tightly around his torso. Manny had brought him hot soup, at least the kid was good for something.

Harry was 30 years old, he was supposed to be able to handle himself. Not living in a house with an eleven-year-old and... however ageless the green dude was. Not to mention a psychopathic notebook. This was just getting fucking ridiculous. The room was oddly silent other than the soothing ticking of the clock above the door. Harry didn't need to turn around, he knew it was there. That clock always kept remarkably perfect time.

At 29 past 8 in the morning, the ticking changed. It had become oddly guttural, as though someone was clicking with their tongue. It was still in perfect time, however. The noise seemed to get louder, as though the clock was moving towards Harry's ear.

"It's half past eight, you're going to be late."

Harry very nearly had a heart attack at the silky voice in his ear. He startled and turned around to see a rather attractive blue humanoid being staring him right in the face with relish.

"Who the hell are you?!" This would have sounded much more impressive if his nose hadn't been so stuffed up. The blue person handed him a box of tissues, neatly sitting down on the bed at the same time with barely a creak of bedsprings.

"I'm Tony the Clock, I'm not one to mock. I may speak in rhyme, but I do keep the time... after all." He swiftly pulled a pocket watch out of his breast pocket, clicking his tongue. "Tick tock tick tock tick tock... Oh dear, that won't do, out of bed with you!"

"What- why?" Harry yelped as Tony pulled the blankets off of him with one swift tug and began dragging him out of bed. The clock had Harry standing upright, now inches apart from his own face. Harry noted that Tony was taller than him, if only by a few centimetres.

Tony smiled devilishly, grabbing Harry by the hips. "Well, there is nothing wrong, but the show must go on. I have many important things to do, some of them are for me, but I'm starting with you."

Harry gulped and wriggled away from the clock. "What?"

"Darling, the show must go on," the clock crooned, grinning and pulling Harry in a half circle. "We are all alone, the curtains are closed, it's just us-"

"Oh would you look at the time," gasped Harry. "it's getting pretty late..."

The clock seemed to contemplate this for a moment, before rattling and transforming back into his first form. Harry shuddered, kicking the object across the room.

"Manny!" Harry called. The kid with the blue hair came running, as expected.

"Yessir?"

"Can you just... move the clock to the living room or something?"

"Why?" asked Manny. "It does keep perfect time."

"Oh, uh... so we can tell when the show's on." Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. That was uncannily alike to what Ton- the clock had said.

Manny shot Harry one last confused look, and snagging the clock with his fingertips, carried it off to the living room. Harry blew his nose. Thank god he was already red, it hid his blush as he thought of what the clock had said.

"I have many important things to do, some of them are for me, but I'm starting with you."

Tony was kind of hot.