Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might modify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Stuart, the most athletic man in Ivory Coast. The bartender set another sarsaparilla in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the flexible front door swung open. A man wearing a headscarf and a wet suit trotted vacantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skittered to the bar and sat down beside Stuart.
Stuart turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him gracefully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, nitwit?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the baboons start to smile," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stack of papers.
"What did you say, snitch? Sounds like you got less sense than Antonio gave a buzzard."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, goof. My name ain't your concern, so swallow."
Stuart stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he emphasized. "This here pig must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back rapidly, their skulls trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger worried, ignoring Stuart's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this villain a glass of lemonade," Stuart revealed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of catching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of lemonade in front of the man. The stranger irritably picked up the drink.
Unexpectedly, Stuart grabbed the stranger by his pair of briefs, spilling the drink on his tail. The stranger leapt up, seized Stuart by the little finger, and with a melancholic raspberry, dragged him to a nearby armoire and turned him on his foot.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger spewed peevishly. "The name's Eldon, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Stuart sputtered happily until Eldon let go and nicely turned away with a high-strung laugh. Suddenly, Stuart reached into his fedora and pulled out an épée. "Hold it right there, dopefiend. I ain't done with you yet."
Eldon turned blankly, drew his vial of poison, and faced Stuart. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fiendish? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a vial of poison the way I can."
The two stared at each other menacingly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Stuart lowered his épée. "Okay buster you win," Stuart sobbed timidly. "You got a lotta cheeks for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Eldon took his hand with a fearful curtsey. "You know, Banana Cakes, you're kinda repulsive when you're angry."
Stuart chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of lemonade," he persisted.