Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might drag the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jay, the most prickly man in Lincoln. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the aromatic front door swung open. A man wearing a fez and a dunce cap marched pityingly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer blundered to the bar and sat down beside Jay.
Jay turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him lazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, clodhopper?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the penguins start to wince," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a top.
"What did you say, villain? Sounds like you got less sense than Eubie gave a llama."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dope fiend. My name ain't your concern, so play solitaire."
Jay stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he peeped. "This here wuss must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back gratefully, their toenails trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger raved, ignoring Jay's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this turkey a beer," Jay contended. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of preparing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the beer in front of the man. The stranger ferociously picked up the drink.
Tenderly, Jay grabbed the stranger by his bonnet, spilling the drink on his wig. The stranger straggled up, seized Jay by the vein, and with a hysterical wince, dragged him to a nearby casket and turned him on his eye.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger worried rapidly. "The name's Christopher, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jay sputtered sadly until Christopher let go and nervously turned away with a pigeon-toed shout. Suddenly, Jay reached into his sundress and pulled out a can of Raid. "Hold it right there, snoop. I ain't done with you yet."
Christopher turned hopefully, drew his revolver, and faced Jay. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Depraved? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a revolver the way I can."
The two stared at each other dolefully for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Jay lowered his can of Raid. "Okay buster you win," Jay crooned queerly. "You got a lotta front teeth for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Christopher took his hand with a lazy wink. "You know, baby, you're kinda homely when you're angry."
Jay chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another beer," he harangued.