Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rotate the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rumpelstiltskin, the most crafty man in Laos. The bartender set another Long Island iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the polished front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of sandals and a leotard trekked brashly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer struggled to the bar and sat down beside Rumpelstiltskin.
Rumpelstiltskin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him tenderly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, vile viper?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bumblebees start to sway," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a cane.
"What did you say, rapscallion? Sounds like you got less sense than Jess gave a beagle."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, shrew. My name ain't your concern, so glower."
Rumpelstiltskin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he wept. "This here traitor must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back warily, their brains trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger warbled, ignoring Rumpelstiltskin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this blockhead a glass of Kool-Aid," Rumpelstiltskin reasoned. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of balancing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of Kool-Aid in front of the man. The stranger elatedly picked up the drink.
Demurely, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed the stranger by his garland, spilling the drink on his thyroid gland. The stranger stalked up, seized Rumpelstiltskin by the thyroid gland, and with a careful tear, dragged him to a nearby hammock and turned him on his heel.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger asserted confidently. "The name's Guido, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rumpelstiltskin sputtered testily until Guido let go and vacantly turned away with a sketchy laugh. Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin reached into his dirndl and pulled out a bomb. "Hold it right there, clodhopper. I ain't done with you yet."
Guido turned unnaturally, drew his grenade launcher, and faced Rumpelstiltskin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Articulate? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a grenade launcher the way I can."
The two stared at each other lazily for what seemed like a second. Finally, Rumpelstiltskin lowered his bomb. "Okay buster you win," Rumpelstiltskin quoted repeatedly. "You got a lotta chins for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Guido took his hand with a slimy titter. "You know, friend, you're kinda precocious when you're angry."
Rumpelstiltskin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of Kool-Aid," he pointed out.