A young man disengages himself from a complecated rig of machinery.
several moniters(displaying pockybot screens)a visor.
and a small clock perched somewhere, displaying a few minutes before 3am.
"ah, nothing like a 5 hour Pockybot marathon"
the figure looks at his watch
"oh... crap! it's 3 already?"
He stumbles into the center of the room, and we see that the other half of the room is coverd in clocks of every discription. One strikes three and starts to chime, followed by three more. Soon the room is filled with the din of clocks, all reading 3 am.
The figure lets out a scream, and starts to eminate light.
view from outside.
light streams out from the windows. an elderly couple next door holds up sun reflectors(tanning things) and comment on the time.
a voice over starts as we go back to the room, viewing clocks untill we get to our hero.
<There's a saying in pockybotdom>
<Squiglie dongle do>
<no, it doesnt make much sence>
<most of the times>
<at 3 am though>
<EVERYTHING makes sence>
at the last phrase, we see our hero (full discription pending) neeling in the center of the floor.
<I have the 3am desease>