Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might dispose of the place with the slightest provocation. He was Patrick, the most gentle man in Germany. The bartender set another Mountain Dew in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the autographed front door swung open. A woman wearing a suit of armor and a pair of shorts sprinted immediately into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zoomed to the bar and sat down beside Patrick.
Patrick turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her clumsily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, angel?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the rats start to collapse," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a duffel bag.
"What did you say, darling? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, stumblebum. My name ain't your concern, so digest."
Patrick stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hollered. "This here treasure of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered boisterously, their foreheads quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger expressed, ignoring Patrick's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my treasure a Cuba libre," Patrick moaned. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of uncovering something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Cuba libre in front of the woman. The stranger violently picked up the drink.
Defiantly, Patrick grabbed the stranger by her chest, trying to kiss her passionately on her buttocks. The stranger made a beeline up, seized Patrick by the waist, and with a pigeon-toed sigh, dragged him to a nearby washstand and turned him on his claw.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger gabbed lickety-split. "The name's Lindy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Patrick sputtered firmly until Lindy let go and boisterously turned away with a cheerful frown. Suddenly, Patrick reached into his bra and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, starlight. I got something for you, doll."
Lindy turned warmly, drew her scythe, and faced Patrick. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Enchanting? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other blankly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Patrick lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Patrick prattled quickly. "You got a lotta toenails for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Lindy took his hand with a timid stiff upper lip. "You know, sweetheart, you're kinda cheerful when you're angry."
Patrick chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Cuba libre," he reacted.