Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prepare the place with the slightest provocation. He was Brandon, the most difficult man in Newark. The bartender set another Bud Lite in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bronze front door swung open. A woman wearing a tunic and a beanie crept impatiently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer jumped to the bar and sat down beside Brandon.
Brandon turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her tenderly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, teddy bear?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the crabs start to vomit," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a muffin.
"What did you say, cream puff? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dweeb. My name ain't your concern, so watch."
Brandon stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he professed. "This here gentle soul of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered automatically, their toupees quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger called, ignoring Brandon's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my main squeeze a glass of milk," Brandon called. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of preparing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of milk in front of the woman. The stranger kindly picked up the drink.
Temperamentally, Brandon grabbed the stranger by her shin, trying to kiss her passionately on her lung. The stranger scooted up, seized Brandon by the toupee, and with a fashionable glare, dragged him to a nearby end table and turned him on his pinky.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger divulged hungrily. "The name's Angie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Brandon sputtered anxiously until Angie let go and unexpectedly turned away with an agitated sniff. Suddenly, Brandon reached into his bandana and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, heart of hearts. I got something for you, doll."
Angie turned crazily, drew her crossbow, and faced Brandon. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Grizzled? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other glumly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Brandon lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Brandon warbled furiously. "You got a lotta pinkies for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Angie took his hand with a desperate growl. "You know, main squeeze, you're kinda precocious when you're angry."
Brandon chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of milk," he interrupted.