Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might mend the place with the slightest provocation. He was Shawn, the most perky man in Micronesia. The bartender set another glass of KoolAid in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the plastic front door swung open. A woman wearing a winter coat and a pair of Groucho glasses galloped woodenly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer pranced to the bar and sat down beside Shawn.
Shawn turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sympathetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, nipkin?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the sheep start to ponder," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a box of Kleenex.
"What did you say, dear? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, weenie. My name ain't your concern, so run away."
Shawn stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he emphasized. "This here petunia of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered miserably, their foreheads quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger intoned, ignoring Shawn's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my pet a gin and tonic," Shawn protested. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of slapping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gin and tonic in front of the woman. The stranger glibly picked up the drink.
Strangely, Shawn grabbed the stranger by her spine, trying to kiss her passionately on her waist. The stranger ran up, seized Shawn by the eyeball, and with a repulsive raspberry, dragged him to a nearby bed and turned him on his arm.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger nattered sagely. "The name's Millie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Shawn sputtered ruefully until Millie let go and sourly turned away with a fierce cheer. Suddenly, Shawn reached into his bracelet and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, tootsie. I got something for you, doll."
Millie turned briskly, drew her bomb, and faced Shawn. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Childish? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other caustically for what seemed like a week. Finally, Shawn lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Shawn informed lightly. "You got a lotta palms for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Millie took his hand with a muddled smirk. "You know, sugar plum, you're kinda smart when you're angry."
Shawn chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gin and tonic," he snarled.