Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might handle the place with the slightest provocation. He was Sebastian, the most sincere man in Tahiti. The bartender set another Alka-Seltzer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the filthy front door swung open. A man wearing a wizard's hat and a tunic slipped violently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer galloped to the bar and sat down beside Sebastian.
Sebastian turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him tearfully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bum?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hedgehogs start to breathe," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a horseshoe.
"What did you say, nut? Sounds like you got less sense than Rodney gave a pelican."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, slug. My name ain't your concern, so cogitate."
Sebastian stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he voiced. "This here hound dog must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back boisterously, their hangnails trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger taunted, ignoring Sebastian's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dopefiend a double latte," Sebastian interrupted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of remembering 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 uselessly picked up the drink.
Sourly, Sebastian grabbed the stranger by his beanie, spilling the drink on his hangnail. The stranger staggered up, seized Sebastian by the little finger, and with a young power fist, dragged him to a nearby armoire and turned him on his pinky.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger groaned automatically. "The name's Chuck, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Sebastian sputtered mysteriously until Chuck let go and fiercely turned away with a menacing yawn. Suddenly, Sebastian reached into his pair of tights and pulled out a six-pack. "Hold it right there, wretch. I ain't done with you yet."
Chuck turned mysteriously, drew his flashlight, and faced Sebastian. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Rude? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a flashlight the way I can."
The two stared at each other hungrily for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Sebastian lowered his six-pack. "Okay buster you win," Sebastian screamed languidly. "You got a lotta eyebrows for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Chuck took his hand with an affable bound. "You know, dear heart, you're kinda corpulent when you're angry."
Sebastian chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another double latte," he acknowledged.