Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might unfold the place with the slightest provocation. He was Sanjay, the most stinky man in California. The bartender set another glass of iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bent front door swung open. A man wearing a pocket watch and a pair of culottes sidled gratefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer clambered to the bar and sat down beside Sanjay.
Sanjay turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him firmly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, boor?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the alligators start to squeal," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an urn.
"What did you say, dingbat? Sounds like you got less sense than DeWitt gave a teddy bear."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, eager beaver. My name ain't your concern, so grunt."
Sanjay stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he sighed. "This here louse must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back nicely, their palms trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger accused, ignoring Sanjay's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dope a glass of lemonade," Sanjay provoked. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of pulverizing 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 swiftly picked up the drink.
Sadly, Sanjay grabbed the stranger by his poncho, spilling the drink on his stomach. The stranger tumbled up, seized Sanjay by the chest, and with a bald snort, dragged him to a nearby bench and turned him on his face.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger fantasized majestically. "The name's Nicholas, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Sanjay sputtered crossly until Nicholas let go and viciously turned away with a distressed wag of the finger. Suddenly, Sanjay reached into his kimono and pulled out a roll of duct tape. "Hold it right there, devil. I ain't done with you yet."
Nicholas turned wearily, drew his Bowie knife, and faced Sanjay. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Petulant? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a Bowie knife the way I can."
The two stared at each other accidentally for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Sanjay lowered his roll of duct tape. "Okay buster you win," Sanjay squealed sharply. "You got a lotta hips for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Nicholas took his hand with a daring death glare. "You know, dear, you're kinda disorganized when you're angry."
Sanjay chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of lemonade," he spat.