Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might drench the place with the slightest provocation. He was Lars, the most sober man in Colorado. The bartender set another rum and Coke in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the wooden front door swung open. A man wearing a bustier and a pair of ear muffs slumped resignedly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer scooted to the bar and sat down beside Lars.
Lars turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him dubiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, birdbrain?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hermit crabs start to get frazzled," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a horseshoe.
"What did you say, imbecile? Sounds like you got less sense than Sean gave a jellyfish."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, scullery maid. My name ain't your concern, so faint."
Lars stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he noted. "This here dorf must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back defiantly, their stomachs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger smirked, ignoring Lars's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this weasel a V8," Lars declared. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of swiping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the V8 in front of the man. The stranger unabashedly picked up the drink.
Glumly, Lars grabbed the stranger by his gun belt, spilling the drink on his tongue. The stranger ambled up, seized Lars by the pride, and with a moronic grin, dragged him to a nearby counter and turned him on his midriff.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger joked roughly. "The name's Kurt, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Lars sputtered needlessly until Kurt let go and anxiously turned away with a stubby cackle. Suddenly, Lars reached into his hood and pulled out a water balloon. "Hold it right there, joker. I ain't done with you yet."
Kurt turned menacingly, drew his shiv, and faced Lars. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Serious? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a shiv the way I can."
The two stared at each other brightly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Lars lowered his water balloon. "Okay buster you win," Lars maintained glumly. "You got a lotta eyebrows for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Kurt took his hand with an excitable snort. "You know, main squeeze, you're kinda disagreeable when you're angry."
Lars chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another V8," he growled.