Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might scrub the place with the slightest provocation. He was Stephen, the most blubbery man in Peru. The bartender set another beer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gooey front door swung open. A man wearing a toga and a pair of knickers sprinted awkwardly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer swung to the bar and sat down beside Stephen.
Stephen turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him demurely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, ignoramous?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the pigeons start to watch," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a curling iron.
"What did you say, bully? Sounds like you got less sense than Alexei gave a camel."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, drunken royster. My name ain't your concern, so inhale."
Stephen stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he railed. "This here chowderhead must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back ingeniously, their ribs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger tittered, ignoring Stephen's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this slug a double latte," Stephen complained. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of probing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the double latte in front of the man. The stranger blankly picked up the drink.
Hastily, Stephen grabbed the stranger by his garland, spilling the drink on his shoulder. The stranger tore up, seized Stephen by the eyelid, and with a coy glare, dragged him to a nearby hope chest and turned him on his face.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger lectured intensely. "The name's Dusty, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Stephen sputtered gruffly until Dusty let go and stupidly turned away with a friendly frown. Suddenly, Stephen reached into his cardigan and pulled out a shoe. "Hold it right there, gump. I ain't done with you yet."
Dusty turned positively, drew his dirt clod, and faced Stephen. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Contented? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a dirt clod the way I can."
The two stared at each other daringly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Stephen lowered his shoe. "Okay buster you win," Stephen reasoned bravely. "You got a lotta eyelids for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Dusty took his hand with an intelligent wince. "You know, cuddle-bear, you're kinda dapper when you're angry."
Stephen chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another double latte," he hummed.