Tony dragged Clock into one of the empty rooms and threw him on the floor, slamming the door behind him.
"Wh- what are you do-"
Tony crushed his foot down on his cousin's neck before he could even finish his sentence. His face distorted itself forcefully from a disgusting grimace to a gleeful smile. He grabbed one of Clock's wrists and pressed his shoe down harder.
"You know, I heard that there are plenty of objects on that show that have missing limbs. I'm sure you'll fit right in with the rest of them..." He began tugging on Clock's arm, pulling it upwards slowly.
"W- wait- please please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Clock barely choked out. He tried to maneuver his free arm and legs into an advantageous position, but he didn't have enough strength or height to overturn the taller object.
As Tony inched the arm slowly towards him, and as it painstakingly tore from its socket, he burst one of his extra arms from his waistcoat. It grabbed hold of Clock's upper arm and turned clockwise. One of Tony's special abilities was about to be very useful.
As his hand turned around the arm again and again, the inky skin that it drew over began to decay and rot. It allowed itself to stretch and pull unnaturally thin, so much so that the dark blue ink was stretched into a light, almost white blue. Clock couldn't withhold his screams any longer and Tony was forced to crush down on his mouth, breaking his jaw slightly in the process.
The decaying of the extended skin finally caused it to break, and Clock's left arm came free from his body. Tony flew backwards from the final tear and the arm flew out of his hands, ink spraying all over the room.
Tony stood up in a dazed state for a moment as he processed that he'd finally be back on his path. He'd FINALLY be able to hurt freely again! Meanwhile, Clock gasped and squeaked in shock. He tried to roll over and prop himself up with his remaining arm. Maybe he could escape while Tony was still frozen in excitement. That hope was swiftly crushed as his older cousin slammed Clock's head against the ground and murmured, "We're not done yet my dear cousin, do you think I'd let you suffer in asymmetry?"
Tony soon repeated his torture with Clock's other arm, although at this point his dear relative was too pained and exhausted to even scream. Tony didn't derive as much enjoyment from that, although there was at least some sort of interest to be found in them once they're broken. It just wasn't his personal taste. Nonetheless, when he'd finished his fun, he made sure to admire his handiwork.
Clock was writhing on the ground as Tony looked over both him and the arm he held in his hands. Serotonin and euphoria rushed through his brain as he prospected on all the chaos he'd wreak once he unleashed himself on the world. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have much time to ponder as he heard footsteps rapidly approach the room, followed by the door swinging open violently.
Tony was greeted by a large number and variety of his relatives gawking at the sight before them. They didn't have any time to process it however, as Tony immediately flung forward his right arm and twisted it counterclockwise. Time ground to a halt and he could get away without so much as a scratch. He wouldn't have much time(?) to get away though, so he'd better savor it.
Tony opted to simply drop the arm he'd held. It wasn't like they could reattach it anyways. He gracefully weaved his way through the maze of family members frozen in a single moment, before climbing out a window and taking off into the night. As he sped through the wilderness, he couldn't help but smile at the shrieks he heard in the distance.
...
Tony the Talking Clock was quite happy with his life. He no longer felt like a waste of existence, nor as a pathetic fool. He knew for a fact he was above all of that stupid self loathing nonsense. It turned out that all he needed WAS a break. Murder burnout is a fickle mistress.
Regardless, he couldn't keep it up forever, and he knew that as well. He knew that one way or another, he'd be stopped again. Whether that be by burnout or getting caught by a rapidly advancing society. He needed an out eventually.
Luckily for everyone involved, he'd soon find one. Or rather, it would find him.