Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might close the place with the slightest provocation. He was Garrick, the most charming man in Huntsville. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the dusty front door swung open. A man wearing a stethoscope and a tailcoat sailed hopefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer loped to the bar and sat down beside Garrick.
Garrick turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him kindly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, wimp?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the burros start to glower," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bucket.
"What did you say, thug? Sounds like you got less sense than Running Bear gave a panda."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, ninnyhammer. My name ain't your concern, so purr."
Garrick stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he screeched. "This here stumblebum must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back suspiciously, their toupees trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger conversed, ignoring Garrick's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this idjit a glass of Kool-Aid," Garrick blubbered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of measureing 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 truculently picked up the drink.
Suavely, Garrick grabbed the stranger by his tutu, spilling the drink on his little toe. The stranger lumbered up, seized Garrick by the shoulder, and with a daring caress, dragged him to a nearby bar stool and turned him on his heel.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger prattled glibly. "The name's Barnabas, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Garrick sputtered thankfully until Barnabas let go and sorrowfully turned away with a dumb grimace. Suddenly, Garrick reached into his pocket watch and pulled out an Uzi. "Hold it right there, prattling gabbler. I ain't done with you yet."
Barnabas turned clumsily, drew his squirt gun, and faced Garrick. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Decent? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a squirt gun the way I can."
The two stared at each other excitedly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Garrick lowered his Uzi. "Okay buster you win," Garrick chortled cheerfully. "You got a lotta eyeballs for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Barnabas took his hand with an ungainly coo. "You know, dearie, you're kinda heavyset when you're angry."
Garrick chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of Kool-Aid," he taunted.