Malfunctioning Clock

Things were quiet at the store this morning. That is, until an agitated man stormed through the door. I could sense his negative energy before he entered, of course. Yet the way he slammed the door open was enough to make me jump in fright. As he strode up to the counter, I was afraid he was going to throttle me! Still, I managed to keep my composure and smiled. "Good morning, how may I be of assistance today?" He said nothing. Instead, he thrust an alarm clock in my face. It looked familiar, certainly one of my own. Yet I couldn't place his face. He could be any of the bald, angry men who required my assistance. From recent memory, I'd only sold one of those clocks to a much younger man... "Oh, I remember you! You're the late bloomer, that's right..." I gazed at him and frowned. "Oh dear, you've aged terribly..."

"You think?" He growled as he slammed the clock on the desk. "This fucking clock is broken! It won't stop fucking ringing! Every ten minutes, R-I-I-I-NG! R-I-I-I-NG!" As if on cue, the alarm clock suddenly sprang to life in his hand. He slammed his hand down on the buzzer and buried his head in his hands, releasing a short wail. "It's driving me insane!"

It's also prematurely aging him, it appears... Which is partly why I had sold the clock to him in the first place, mind you. He had come into the store just last month, begging for a solution to his woes. He was 17 years old, yet looked nearer to 13, being a late bloomer and all. It meant that he was the runt in his class, constantly picked on for his youthful appearance. 

Well, we sell all kinds of remedies and doo-hickies in my emporium, yet this lad was drawn to the alarm clock. When the alarm is set, it absorbs latent energy around it, converting and releasing it as a short burst of chronal energy when it goes off. Normally, it's a slow building magic, the longer you leave it to gather energy, the stronger the release. So it is rather alarming, if you'll excuse the pun, that it was reaching its maximum potency every ten minutes. Almost as if it had been tampered with. And judging by my pal's anger and anxiety, it wasn't him.

"Talk me through what happened. Did you do something different from usual?"

"Of course not, It's an alarm clock, for fuck's sake! I don't know what happened!" He groaned in a weary tone. "It was working perfectly all month. I had a few growth spurts, my voice finally deepened, my jawline was losing its roundness. I was actually starting to look like a senior, and I like I fit in with the kids in my class. Nobody was calling me Chicken Little or whatever." He looked, and sounded, calmer as he thought about the positives of the clock. "Just a few days ago, I noticed I was starting to get little chin hairs. I'd always wanted to grow a beard. Though, not like this. Never like this..." He dragged a hand across his face, shivering when he encountered his facial hair. "Then last night, I set it for 8am, as usual. It first rang as I was getting into bed, which was odd. I reset it and, 10 minutes later, it rang again. This kept happening all night..."

"All night, huh? No wonder you're cranky."

"No shit. And of course, every alarm just makes me more mature, and even older! By sunrise, I was a grown man with five o' clock shadow and a load of chest hair. And in the time it's taken to get here, I've grown a beard and lost all my hair! I must be older than my parents at this point..."

"It is curious that you've matured so much in so little time. It's almost unheard of..." As I thought, either my wearisome friend here tried to tamper with the clock himself, not fully understanding the consequences, or there's a saboteur afoot... "so you had this problem all night, and you didn't think to turn it off?"

"There's no off switch, dipshit!" He paused and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I'm stressed and tired... I would've smashed the clock to pieces to make it stop. But I didn't know what kind of freaky shit I'd unleash."

"It may be an enchanted clock, but it's still a mundane object. I doubt anything would have happened except voiding your warranty."

Before he could respond, the clock sprang to life once more. He instinctively slammed a hand down on the desk, then immediately brought his hands to his head, grabbing at non-existent hair, and cried, "I can't take this any more... Why aren't you fixing it? You're supposed to fix it! Just make it stop!!" He looked close to a full-on breakdown.

I twisted the clock around in my hands and noticed a panel on the back. "Have you tried removing the batteries?"

He glared at me. "What? Why would I-"

I slipped open the panel and whacked my palm against the front of the clock. Two AAA batteries fell out, and the ringing stopped.

"The clock had batteries..." he mumbled, awestruck.

"It sure did!" I said with a smile. "Well, with any luck, that should stop the ringing while I have a little nose about and figure out what went wrong."

The man twitched as he spoke softly into his chest. "The magic clock ran on batteries..."

"Yes, batteries. Like any normal clock." I turn my back and dig through some drawers to find a screwdriver, still talking aloud. "You know, I could probably help with your premature appearance. I think I may have some rather fetching toupees that will actually attach to your-" I paused as I turned around and noticed the man heading for the door. "Hey, where are you going?"

He ignored me, constantly muttering "It had batteries..." under his breath until he walked out of the shop and down the street. 

I shook my head with a chuckle. What an odd fellow. I was trying to tell him about our miracle cures for premature aging, but I suppose the clock had done a number on him. Hopefully he can get a good rest and be back to find a bespoke solution. Meanwhile, I'll solve the case of the malfunction. Because something strange is afoot indeeed.