Six Minutes on the Clock

I marched out from beneath the armchair straight into the kitchen to find a proper countdown device for our game. There on the breakfast counter sat a twisty mechanical timer. I wrapped both of my long black arms around its rim and wrenched it clockwise until it gave a sharp metallic ping! Now it ticks. Loudly. Relentlessly. I stood completely still, listening to the rhythm shudder against the smooth countertop. It is counting down six whole minutes. When the bell dings, the next round officially begins! The spoon has no idea what is coming.