Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might manage the place with the slightest provocation. He was Arthur, the most sinister man in Suriname. The bartender set another ice cream soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the striking front door swung open. A woman wearing a false beard and a tailcoat sauntered hopefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer inched to the bar and sat down beside Arthur.
Arthur turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her courteously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dearest?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the leopards start to wander," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a spool of thread.
"What did you say, lover? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, fathead. My name ain't your concern, so sigh."
Arthur stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he smiled. "This here sunshine of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered demurely, their hair quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger explained, ignoring Arthur's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cookie a gimlet," Arthur blathered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of unbuttoning something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gimlet in front of the woman. The stranger hopelessly picked up the drink.
Vigorously, Arthur grabbed the stranger by her tongue, trying to kiss her passionately on her thumb. The stranger lurched up, seized Arthur by the toupee, and with an absent-minded finger gun, dragged him to a nearby footstool and turned him on his little finger.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger persisted nimbly. "The name's Marybel, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Arthur sputtered sagely until Marybel let go and dubiously turned away with a carefree glare. Suddenly, Arthur reached into his pair of shin guards and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, old bean. I got something for you, doll."
Marybel turned curiously, drew her torpedo, and faced Arthur. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Haggard? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other languidly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Arthur lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Arthur noted sorrowfully. "You got a lotta cheeks for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Marybel took his hand with a brilliant woof. "You know, sugar plum, you're kinda nervous when you're angry."
Arthur chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gimlet," he joked.