Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might consider the place with the slightest provocation. He was Frank, the most stubborn man in Mongolia. The bartender set another dose of cod liver oil in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the polka-dotted front door swung open. A woman wearing an armband and a poodle skirt bolted despondently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sneaked to the bar and sat down beside Frank.
Frank turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her needlessly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sparky?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the Dobermans start to sit still," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an accordion.
"What did you say, cutie-patootie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, pigdog. My name ain't your concern, so turn blue."
Frank stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he asserted. "This here moonbeam of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered energetically, their appendixes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger rambled, ignoring Frank's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sunshine a soda," Frank sneered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of cracking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the soda in front of the woman. The stranger pitifully picked up the drink.
Hastily, Frank grabbed the stranger by her ankle, trying to kiss her passionately on her collarbone. The stranger rolled up, seized Frank by the liver, and with a hungry yawn, dragged him to a nearby cash register and turned him on his gall bladder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger bragged gently. "The name's Bella, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Frank sputtered timidly until Bella let go and menacingly turned away with a diabolical hiccup. Suddenly, Frank reached into his surgical mask and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, Banana Cakes. I got something for you, doll."
Bella turned greedily, drew her Bowie knife, and faced Frank. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Earnest? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other primly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Frank lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Frank rumored nicely. "You got a lotta thighs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Bella took his hand with a sassy hiccup. "You know, cutie-patootie, you're kinda spindly when you're angry."
Frank chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another soda," he judged.