Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might modify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Klaus, the most repulsive man in Mozambique. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the curved front door swung open. A man wearing a class ring and a cloak darted mysteriously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer breezed to the bar and sat down beside Klaus.
Klaus turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him coolly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bandicoot?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the jackals start to twitch," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a magnet.
"What did you say, screwball? Sounds like you got less sense than Dennis gave a bear."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, nerd. My name ain't your concern, so step aside."
Klaus stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he exploded. "This here imp must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back proudly, their wrists trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger fretted, ignoring Klaus's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this pansy a cosmopolitan," Klaus babbled. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of slamming something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cosmopolitan in front of the man. The stranger rapidly picked up the drink.
Quickly, Klaus grabbed the stranger by his pair of tights, spilling the drink on his back. The stranger flounced up, seized Klaus by the hair, and with a solitary fist bump, dragged him to a nearby four-poster bed and turned him on his ear.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger spewed zestily. "The name's Barnabas, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Klaus sputtered sternly until Barnabas let go and thoughtfully turned away with a decisive pucker. Suddenly, Klaus reached into his apron and pulled out a street sweeper. "Hold it right there, vixen. I ain't done with you yet."
Barnabas turned frantically, drew his pair of bare hands, and faced Klaus. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Nonchalant? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a pair of bare hands the way I can."
The two stared at each other strictly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Klaus lowered his street sweeper. "Okay buster you win," Klaus amended firmly. "You got a lotta noses for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Barnabas took his hand with a loving belly laugh. "You know, bunny, you're kinda maniacal when you're angry."
Klaus chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cosmopolitan," he jeered.