Percy arrived home in the early hours of the morning, drunk as a skunk. Not wanting to face his wife’s wrath, he very quietly tiptoed up the stairs, but just as he got to the top the cuckoo clock cuckooed once. Percy cursed and, thinking quickly, cuckooed another eleven times, knowing his wife would have woken up at the sound of the clock.
“You’re very late,” said his wife, sitting up in bed.
“Oh, perhaps a little,” he replied, “it’s only 12 o’clock.”
With that he slipped into bed and was just closing his eyes when she replied, “Mmm, by the way, you’d better take the clock in for repairs tomorrow. It cuckooed once at four o’clock, said, ‘Oh, f*ck’, belched, farted and then cuckooed another eleven times.”