Fast Fact: When your name is Tockman, you should avoid jobs involving clocks. Sort of like how someone named Handcock shouldn't manually masturbate animals for a living.

Special ALL COCK JOKES Edition of the Stupid Villain Showcase: Name: Clock King Powers: Bad outfit William Tockman didn't have a very good life. He spent almost all his time taking care of his invalid sister and knitting sweaters for travel alarm clocks. Here's a sample of his day: Tockman: "You look very nice today Mr. Ringring!" Clock: "THANKYOU BILLY TOCKMAN! THE SWEATER YOU MADE ME FITS PERFECT!" Tockman: "Oh, you! I'm just learning, but that's kind of you to say." Back to the deadly origin: He went to the doctor for a routine checkup [when you're dressing up alarm clocks, you should really see a specialist at least once a day -Dr. Spectro], and he was told he only had six months to live. Most doctors don't bother to doublecheck paper work when it's regarding a life like Billy Tockman's. That's like giving hemmorhoid cream to a hobo. It's not going to make a dent in anyone's quality of life. This is about where he started to go insane. He didn't have any life insurance to help his sister, and he didn't want her turned over to a state nursing home, so he decided to use his last six months to raise money with high profile clock-themed crimes in a city full of super heroes. And as stupid as that already is, it only got worse from there. He put almost all his profits back into villainy with giant clock props and devices. I think even major surgery is less expensive than a 300 foot clock that shoots lasers with precision Swiss timing. Clock King's dramatic dialogue. According to his face, when this speech took place it was almost two. So Clock King is another story of malpractice combining with a bad life insurance policy to make the lamest criminal since the kid that fills my mailbox with jars of pee every morning. The real tragedy in the story is the other patient who got his papers switched with Clock King's and went home thinking he was healthy. What did the doctor say? "I don't know why your skin is falling off in patches, and that discharge you're oozing is probably nothing. According to your papers, William, you're fit as a horse." "Doctor, my name's not William. I'm Ted. Could you check the pape* Hey! Stop shoving me out of the office!" He probably died 6 months later without ever using his fatal disease to bring the world to its knees.

How insulting is it when Green Arrow doesn't even bother to use his bow on you? Shit, he didn't even make a fist. He hit Clock King like it was his mom bringing home the wrong ice cream. That's embarrassing. According to his face and belt, it's about 4:00. However, his pajamas tell a different story. Hindsight Advice: It wasn't that bad an idea, putting the world in a grip of terror with punctuality and the ability to get the VCR to stop blinking 12, but he didn't put enough thought into it. Besides his sad costume effort of just gluing little clocks onto his pajamas and putting an alarm clock on his head, his real name and super name are each only one letter away from being "William Cockman" or "Cock King." Even someone as family-friendly as Spider-Man would have trouble resisting that, especially when clocks and and cocks have so much in common. Both of their main purpose is waking you up in the morning. Except your penis triples in size and density and Clock King hops up and down next to your bed in his clock pajamas screaming "Rinnng! Wake up or you are doomed! Riiinggg!" Then you roll over and start having sex. Not good sex. The kind where your head is buried in an armpit to avoid the clash of morning breaths. So maybe you should just hump the alarm clock when you wake up. No matter what you do, it's going to be really awkward with a super-villain bouncing up and down next to your bed. Especially a terminally ill one that has nothing to lose and could tell you what time it is without warning*. We need your help to stop Clock King, kids! Order your uniform today! Now with "fire retarded materials"! *I skipped algebraic proof class, but I think this paragraph just scientifically proved we should all fuck Clock King. DC's Who's Who described him bluntly as "An average athlete... He has no special weapons or powers." Think how hilarious the police scanner would be after a Clock King crime: "Attention officers, we have reports of the suspect in the area. He is unarmed and should be considered badly dressed. Apprehending officers are advised to use caution - reports indicate the suspect loves clocks. Repeat: He enjoys clocks very much. Over."