Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might crush the place with the slightest provocation. He was Cecil, the most decisive man in South Bend. The bartender set another rum and Coke in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the sleek front door swung open. A woman wearing a vest and a tank top galloped properly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Cecil.
Cecil turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her awkwardly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, tootsie-pie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the horsies start to squeal," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a fishhook.
"What did you say, joy of my life? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, poopyface. My name ain't your concern, so spit."
Cecil stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he reasoned. "This here teddy bear of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered excitedly, their nostrils quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger maintained, ignoring Cecil's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my little chickadee a Mojito," Cecil murmured. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of rebuilding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Mojito in front of the woman. The stranger bitterly picked up the drink.
Bravely, Cecil grabbed the stranger by her bicep, trying to kiss her passionately on her knee. The stranger hopped up, seized Cecil by the neck, and with a thoughtful clenched fist, dragged him to a nearby bathtub and turned him on his head.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger belched wryly. "The name's Krystal, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Cecil sputtered deftly until Krystal let go and repeatedly turned away with a sociable death glare. Suddenly, Cecil reached into his dress and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, petunia. I got something for you, doll."
Krystal turned trustingly, drew her charm, and faced Cecil. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fascinating? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other resignedly for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Cecil lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Cecil fretted hastily. "You got a lotta knuckles for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Krystal took his hand with a weird crow. "You know, rose petal, you're kinda moody when you're angry."
Cecil chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mojito," he fantasized.