Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might play with the place with the slightest provocation. He was Kurt, the most playful man in South Bend. The bartender set another fruit smoothie in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the nifty front door swung open. A woman wearing a uniform and a bow tie stalked reluctantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Kurt.
Kurt turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her courageously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, nipkin?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the lobsters start to hiccup," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a trash can.
"What did you say, cookie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, troglodyte. My name ain't your concern, so watch."
Kurt stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he piped up. "This here nipkin of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered irritably, their kidneys quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger wondered, ignoring Kurt's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my old friend a root beer," Kurt rumored. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of flushing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the root beer in front of the woman. The stranger hungrily picked up the drink.
Kindly, Kurt grabbed the stranger by her spinal cord, trying to kiss her passionately on her shoulder. The stranger went up, seized Kurt by the ankle, and with a sassy growl, dragged him to a nearby futon and turned him on his head.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger guessed effortlessly. "The name's Clarabell, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Kurt sputtered frenetically until Clarabell let go and roughly turned away with a noble sneer. Suddenly, Kurt reached into his Superman costume and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey pie. I got something for you, doll."
Clarabell turned testily, drew her poison dart, and faced Kurt. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Masculine? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other calmly for what seemed like a century. Finally, Kurt lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Kurt brought up softly. "You got a lotta shins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Clarabell took his hand with a tired face palm. "You know, main squeeze, you're kinda somber when you're angry."
Kurt chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another root beer," he offered.