Proudly showing off his newly-leased downtown apartment to a couple of friends late one night, a drunk Samoan led the ay to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong hanging on the wall ‘What’s that big brass gong for?’ one of the friend’s asked.
‘Issss nod a gong. Issss a talking Maori clock’ he drunkenly replied.
‘A talking Maori clock – seriously?’
‘Yup.’ ‘Hmmm (hic).’
‘How’s it work?’ the second friend asked, squinting at it.
‘Just watch’ he said.
He picked up a hammer, gave the gong an ‘ear-shattering bash’ and stepped back.
His three mates stood looking at one another for a moment in astounded silence.
Suddenly, a Maori voice from the other side of the wall screamed,
‘For fuxxak’s sake, you stupid bastards. It’s ten past three in the f*#king morning !!!’
