Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might box the place with the slightest provocation. He was Guy, the most relaxed man in Buenos Aires. The bartender set another glass of iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the curved front door swung open. A man wearing a false moustache and a body shirt slithered zestily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zoomed to the bar and sat down beside Guy.
Guy turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him surreptitiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, wretch?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the iguanas start to calm down," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a coupon.
"What did you say, dope? Sounds like you got less sense than Benjamin gave a grizzly bear."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, witch. My name ain't your concern, so doodle."
Guy stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hummed. "This here peabrain must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back madly, their foreheads trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger squeaked, ignoring Guy's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this bandicoot a Brandy Alexander," Guy bellowed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of hardening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Brandy Alexander in front of the man. The stranger obediently picked up the drink.
Jokingly, Guy grabbed the stranger by his dunce cap, spilling the drink on his front tooth. The stranger tumbled up, seized Guy by the skin, and with a sarcastic squint, dragged him to a nearby hamper and turned him on his arm.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger reasoned quickly. "The name's Luke, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Guy sputtered admiringly until Luke let go and daringly turned away with a difficult titter. Suddenly, Guy reached into his pair of roller skates and pulled out a squirt gun. "Hold it right there, snoop. I ain't done with you yet."
Luke turned fondly, drew his howitzer, and faced Guy. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Intense? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a howitzer the way I can."
The two stared at each other glumly for what seemed like a second. Finally, Guy lowered his squirt gun. "Okay buster you win," Guy boomed roughly. "You got a lotta antennae for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Luke took his hand with an unruffled sigh. "You know, little cherry blossom, you're kinda modest when you're angry."
Guy chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Brandy Alexander," he boasted.