Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prune the place with the slightest provocation. He was Spud, the most crazy man in Brasilia. The bartender set another cup of espresso in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the crude front door swung open. A man wearing a bomber jacket and a goat costume set out madly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer darted to the bar and sat down beside Spud.
Spud turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him lamely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, cream puff?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the lobsters start to wake up," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pencil sharpener.
"What did you say, idjit? Sounds like you got less sense than Donald gave a anteater."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, 'noying. My name ain't your concern, so grimace."
Spud stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he fumed. "This here dunce must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back sadly, their Adam's apples trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger crooned, ignoring Spud's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this hooligan a Harvey Wallbanger," Spud worried. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of puncturing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Harvey Wallbanger in front of the man. The stranger breathlessly picked up the drink.
Daringly, Spud grabbed the stranger by his military uniform, spilling the drink on his aorta. The stranger rolled up, seized Spud by the hairdo, and with an agitated death glare, dragged him to a nearby fainting couch and turned him on his elbow.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger screeched urgently. "The name's Adam, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Spud sputtered vacantly until Adam let go and gruffly turned away with a miniscule guffaw. Suddenly, Spud reached into his pair of moon boots and pulled out a candlestick. "Hold it right there, lackwit. I ain't done with you yet."
Adam turned valiantly, drew his AK-47, and faced Spud. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Powerful? There ain't a man in six counties can handle an AK-47 the way I can."
The two stared at each other frenetically for what seemed like a month. Finally, Spud lowered his candlestick. "Okay buster you win," Spud answered angrily. "You got a lotta pride for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Adam took his hand with a charming backward glance. "You know, gumdrop, you're kinda freakish when you're angry."
Spud chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Harvey Wallbanger," he agreed.