Clocky, I Am Your Father

This is a continuation of the saga of Clocky, the mascot of the newspaper I used to work for. If it sounds crazy, try reading the first post.

When two mascots fall in love they sometimes create a baby mascot. That baby is Clocky. Today, I met Clocky's father, Mr. Minuteman in St. Cloud. He was casual, as usual:




He was representing an extremely small copy shop (there were only two copiers in the place) and leaning against the M in the shop's sign as if to say:

"Oh, Clocky, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

You see, he let me in on a little secret. Clocky is a little slow.

Oddly enough, Mr. Minuteman has a tag line as awkward as Clocky's:




I guess the gear doesn't fall very far from the clockface.