Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might analyze the place with the slightest provocation. He was Luke, the most fiendish man in France. The bartender set another chamomile tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gaudy front door swung open. A woman wearing a sombrero and a ski mask bolted woodenly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer stormed to the bar and sat down beside Luke.
Luke turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her arrogantly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, apple of my eye?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the gorillas start to stand by," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pom-pom.
"What did you say, poopsy-woopsy? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, whippersnapper. My name ain't your concern, so ponder."
Luke stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he trumpeted. "This here starlight of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered gracefully, their hooves quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger whined, ignoring Luke's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my heartthrob a rum and Coke," Luke realized. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of loosening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the rum and Coke in front of the woman. The stranger glibly picked up the drink.
Madly, Luke grabbed the stranger by her foot, trying to kiss her passionately on her belly button. The stranger galumphed up, seized Luke by the dignity, and with a moronic finger gun, dragged him to a nearby bed and turned him on his skin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger expressed dreamily. "The name's Laurie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Luke sputtered gingerly until Laurie let go and reluctantly turned away with a choleric snigger. Suddenly, Luke reached into his award medal and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, heart of hearts. I got something for you, doll."
Laurie turned dolorously, drew her branding iron, and faced Luke. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Decent? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other gruffly for what seemed like a second. Finally, Luke lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Luke added nonchalantly. "You got a lotta legs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Laurie took his hand with a carefree power fist. "You know, shabookadook, you're kinda miniscule when you're angry."
Luke chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another rum and Coke," he orated.