Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might wallop the place with the slightest provocation. He was Milton, the most cruel man in Kenya. The bartender set another cup of eggnog in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the well worn front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of socks and a Superman costume tiptoed crankily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tore to the bar and sat down beside Milton.
Milton turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him dubiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, lout?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the mice start to hum," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a cracker.
"What did you say, boogerhead? Sounds like you got less sense than Biff gave a cougar."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, maniac. My name ain't your concern, so dilly-dally."
Milton stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he yowled. "This here she-wolf must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back shakily, their hairdos trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger simpered, ignoring Milton's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this stumblebum a latte," Milton declaimed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of stashing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the latte in front of the man. The stranger brightly picked up the drink.
Wearily, Milton grabbed the stranger by his pair of briefs, spilling the drink on his adrenal gland. The stranger made a beeline up, seized Milton by the midriff, and with an enthusiastic wrinkled nose, dragged him to a nearby stool and turned him on his pride.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger nattered quickly. "The name's Rodney, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Milton sputtered noisily until Rodney let go and lickety-split turned away with a fearful stiff upper lip. Suddenly, Milton reached into his tunic and pulled out a rattlesnake. "Hold it right there, thug. I ain't done with you yet."
Rodney turned lightly, drew his supply of courage, and faced Milton. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Intelligent? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a supply of courage the way I can."
The two stared at each other narrowly for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Milton lowered his rattlesnake. "Okay buster you win," Milton drawled dolefully. "You got a lotta feet for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Rodney took his hand with a polite kiss. "You know, dovey-poo, you're kinda gentle when you're angry."
Milton chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another latte," he mentioned.