“I feel ridiculous in these leiderhosen,” Hannelore told Urs. “Are you positive this was the only job you could get us?”
“Relax,” he said. “We’re a cinch to do well. All we have to do is pop out the clock door every fifteen minutes and play ‘Ach du Lieber Augustin’ on our tuba and accordion.”
“Each hour, of course, we note the time,” he reminded her. “It’s quite simple. You’ll see.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” She reminded him. “We’re in a clock! That doesn’t bother you?”
“You’re such a stick in the mud,” he replied.
Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s
Friday Fictioneers. Read all about it at her link. J. Hardy Carroll has supplied this week’s photo prompt.