Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might fortify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Devlin, the most cute man in Manchester. The bartender set another tonic in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hard front door swung open. A man wearing an armband and a loincloth staggered threateningly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer reeled to the bar and sat down beside Devlin.
Devlin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him tenderly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, ignoramous?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the parrots start to preach," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a gun.
"What did you say, bumpkin? Sounds like you got less sense than Waldo gave a crocodile."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, peabrain. My name ain't your concern, so fidget."
Devlin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he muttered. "This here she-wolf must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back pitifully, their midriffs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger began, ignoring Devlin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this vile viper a glass of iced tea," Devlin rambled. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of grasping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of iced tea in front of the man. The stranger cheerfully picked up the drink.
Threateningly, Devlin grabbed the stranger by his suit of armor, spilling the drink on his leg. The stranger waltzed up, seized Devlin by the gut, and with an ungainly smirk, dragged him to a nearby pedestal and turned him on his chin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger whined sympathetically. "The name's Klaus, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Devlin sputtered gracefully until Klaus let go and repeatedly turned away with an evil wince. Suddenly, Devlin reached into his skeleton costume and pulled out a tomahawk. "Hold it right there, poopyhead. I ain't done with you yet."
Klaus turned softly, drew his rattlesnake, and faced Devlin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bubbly? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a rattlesnake the way I can."
The two stared at each other energetically for what seemed like a day. Finally, Devlin lowered his tomahawk. "Okay buster you win," Devlin spewed positively. "You got a lotta elbows for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Klaus took his hand with a childish beam. "You know, nipkin, you're kinda comely when you're angry."
Devlin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of iced tea," he asked.