Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might unbutton the place with the slightest provocation. He was Perry, the most vivacious man in Concord. The bartender set another Sangría in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the ridged front door swung open. A man wearing a toga and a pair of Oxfords lurched trustingly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer blundered to the bar and sat down beside Perry.
Perry turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him furiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, drunken royster?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the orangutans start to relax," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a blanket.
"What did you say, freak? Sounds like you got less sense than Nathan gave a honeybee."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, ding dong. My name ain't your concern, so purr."
Perry stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he realized. "This here idiot must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back daintily, their appendixes trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger continued, ignoring Perry's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dimwit a sassafras tea," Perry bawled. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of pummeling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the sassafras tea in front of the man. The stranger haughtily picked up the drink.
Lovingly, Perry grabbed the stranger by his big smile, spilling the drink on his Achilles tendon. The stranger skidded up, seized Perry by the leg, and with a noble clenched fist, dragged him to a nearby washstand and turned him on his rib.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger admitted gingerly. "The name's Willie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Perry sputtered oddly until Willie let go and courageously turned away with an eccentric giggle. Suddenly, Perry reached into his flak jacket and pulled out a truncheon. "Hold it right there, hooligan. I ain't done with you yet."
Willie turned repeatedly, drew his rattlesnake, and faced Perry. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Cruel? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a rattlesnake the way I can."
The two stared at each other unnaturally for what seemed like a second. Finally, Perry lowered his truncheon. "Okay buster you win," Perry boomed vigorously. "You got a lotta bladders for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Willie took his hand with a dumb wince. "You know, tootsy-wootsy, you're kinda melancholic when you're angry."
Perry chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another sassafras tea," he muttered.