Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might dye the place with the slightest provocation. He was Clifford, the most rugged man in the Maldives. The bartender set another cup of eggnog in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the waxy front door swung open. A woman wearing a floppy hat and a pair of booties barrelled nimbly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer flounced to the bar and sat down beside Clifford.
Clifford turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her joyously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, twinkle toes?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the buzzards start to sneer," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pacifier.
"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, dimwit. My name ain't your concern, so preach."
Clifford stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hissed. "This here snuggle bear of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered cautiously, their cheeks quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger vowed, ignoring Clifford's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my pork chop a dose of cod liver oil," Clifford professed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of copying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the dose of cod liver oil in front of the woman. The stranger properly picked up the drink.
Frenetically, Clifford grabbed the stranger by her head, trying to kiss her passionately on her pride. The stranger sailed up, seized Clifford by the back, and with a disgusting titter, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his kidney.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger contended sharply. "The name's Bonita, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Clifford sputtered thoughtfully until Bonita let go and charmingly turned away with a corpulent death glare. Suddenly, Clifford reached into his sombrero and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, hon. I got something for you, doll."
Bonita turned cunningly, drew her blackjack, and faced Clifford. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Drowsy? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other ruefully for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Clifford lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Clifford noted stealthily. "You got a lotta chins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Bonita took his hand with a humble smile. "You know, Pinky, you're kinda intrepid when you're angry."
Clifford chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another dose of cod liver oil," he appealed.