Sean broke his alarm clock

“Mnrh… unh… grmh… Xander – quiet.” The cats had kept Sean up again. If he could just get Xander to be quiet. He rolled over and glanced at the clock.
“Huh? Whazza? Six a.m.?” Sean’s confusion cleared. It was not the cats this time.
“Six A.M.?!” His brow creasing in mounting fury, Sean rose to a sitting position.
As Sean became a physical manifestation of pure rage, his hands curled into fists.
“Another… NIGHT… WASTED!!!!” He had reached the point of no return. There was no rationalizing with his rage, and Sean liked it that way.
The look of the bald city-worker would have burned furrows in the wall if temper were converted to temperature. Kittens, knowing the inevitable war-path that this uncontrollable choler would take, scurried out of the room, glancing over their shoulders, knowing that distance was all that would keep them safe for now.
As one fist-capped arm came up, Sean’s angry gaze fell on the closest horizontal plane. Yes. Only that could soothe the savage beast.
Leveling a blow at the end-table-top, Sean raised his other fist at that same moment.
Jackhammers could not have made a more thorough job of the destruction that Sean’s fists of anger delivered upon the source of his ire, the alarm clock/radio.
As he razed the timepiece, Sean bellowed like a Viking warrior, “I AM ANGRY!!!” bellowing his defiance at Time, itself.
Never again would its shriek pierce the early-morning air, ensuring the prompt arrival of its client and target.
Sean rose from his bed, spittle just short of foam dripping from his face. Rage sated, he scratched his rear through light-blue briefs and trundled off to the bathroom to prepare for the day.