Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might curl the place with the slightest provocation. He was Charles, the most energetic man in the Congo. The bartender set another root beer float in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bronze front door swung open. A woman wearing a thong and a cat suit straggled later into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer danced to the bar and sat down beside Charles.
Charles turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her timidly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, turtle dove?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the worms start to dilly-dally," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a hair dryer.
"What did you say, hot stuff? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, freak. My name ain't your concern, so back up."
Charles stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he raved. "This here bunny of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered solemnly, their little toes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger screamed, ignoring Charles's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my dearie a glass of wine," Charles commented. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of certifying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. The stranger openly picked up the drink.
Accidentally, Charles grabbed the stranger by her chest, trying to kiss her passionately on her thumb. The stranger sashayed up, seized Charles by the face, and with an obese grin, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his ear.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger bawled solemnly. "The name's Drew, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Charles sputtered sweetly until Drew let go and threateningly turned away with a pensive tear. Suddenly, Charles reached into his fig leaf and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, buttercup. I got something for you, doll."
Drew turned courageously, drew her poison dart, and faced Charles. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Eccentric? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other pitifully for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Charles lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Charles persisted silently. "You got a lotta ears for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Drew took his hand with a disgusting stiff upper lip. "You know, Banana Cakes, you're kinda carefree when you're angry."
Charles chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of wine," he spat.