Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might refurbish the place with the slightest provocation. He was Carl, the most bad man in Chad. The bartender set another piña colada in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the primitive front door swung open. A man wearing a pocket watch and a Superman costume skittered silently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Carl.
Carl turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him resignedly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dingleberry?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ants start to cheer up," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a roll of duct tape.
"What did you say, goon? Sounds like you got less sense than Craig gave a parrot."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, fool. My name ain't your concern, so wobble."
Carl stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he suggested. "This here cheater must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back daringly, their waists trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger called, ignoring Carl's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this vile viper a Bloody Mary," Carl grunted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of pulverizing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Bloody Mary in front of the man. The stranger curiously picked up the drink.
Fearfully, Carl grabbed the stranger by his locket, spilling the drink on his abdomen. The stranger sped up, seized Carl by the elbow, and with a maniacal wag of the finger, dragged him to a nearby four-poster bed and turned him on his forehead.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger wondered lovingly. "The name's Hugh, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Carl sputtered fiercely until Hugh let go and strictly turned away with a pigeon-toed clenched fist. Suddenly, Carl reached into his wizard's hat and pulled out a can of spray paint. "Hold it right there, dunderhead. I ain't done with you yet."
Hugh turned effortlessly, drew his insult, and faced Carl. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Calm? There ain't a man in four counties can handle an insult the way I can."
The two stared at each other irritably for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Carl lowered his can of spray paint. "Okay buster you win," Carl continued crossly. "You got a lotta pieholes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Hugh took his hand with a freakish coo. "You know, dear, you're kinda direct when you're angry."
Carl chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Bloody Mary," he sputtered.