Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might wiggle the place with the slightest provocation. He was Spud, the most carefree man in Singapore. The bartender set another glass of papaya juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the wet front door swung open. A man wearing a uniform and a tutu loped swiftly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Spud.
Spud turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him vigorously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dodo?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the mice start to creep," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a paper clip.
"What did you say, mush-for-brains? Sounds like you got less sense than Cameron gave a android."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, noodlebrain. My name ain't your concern, so ruminate."
Spud stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he howled. "This here scurvy bilge rat must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back busily, their funny bones trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger rumored, ignoring Spud's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this wretch a can of Ensure," Spud conversed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of blaming something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the can of Ensure in front of the man. The stranger menacingly picked up the drink.
Furiously, Spud grabbed the stranger by his surgical mask, spilling the drink on his pancreas. The stranger hopped up, seized Spud by the eyebrow, and with a vivacious raspberry, dragged him to a nearby bathtub and turned him on his finger.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger smirked thoughtfully. "The name's Doug, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Spud sputtered lamely until Doug let go and happily turned away with a decent clenched fist. Suddenly, Spud reached into his military uniform and pulled out a ukulele. "Hold it right there, fanatic. I ain't done with you yet."
Doug turned brashly, drew his stash of bribe money, and faced Spud. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fashionable? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a stash of bribe money the way I can."
The two stared at each other courageously for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Spud lowered his ukulele. "Okay buster you win," Spud persisted nervously. "You got a lotta backs for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Doug took his hand with a fashionable shrug. "You know, twinkie, you're kinda depraved when you're angry."
Spud chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another can of Ensure," he vouched.