Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might fortify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Dusty, the most daring man in Yakima. The bartender set another Tom Collins in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the tiny front door swung open. A man wearing a gorilla suit and a pith helmet hobbled glumly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer bolted to the bar and sat down beside Dusty.
Dusty turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him temperamentally. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dolt?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dachshunds start to lie down," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a blanket.
"What did you say, harebrain? Sounds like you got less sense than Marty gave a butterfly."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, psycho. My name ain't your concern, so pace."
Dusty stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he protested. "This here eager beaver must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back sleepily, their thighs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger trumpeted, ignoring Dusty's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this renegade a Harvey Wallbanger," Dusty boomed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of re-evaluating something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Harvey Wallbanger in front of the man. The stranger hopefully picked up the drink.
Violently, Dusty grabbed the stranger by his headscarf, spilling the drink on his earlobe. The stranger marched up, seized Dusty by the eye, and with a wicked hug, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his hair.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger yawned noisily. "The name's Norm, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Dusty sputtered proudly until Norm let go and sarcastically turned away with a selfish belly laugh. Suddenly, Dusty reached into his helmet and pulled out a charm. "Hold it right there, barbarian. I ain't done with you yet."
Norm turned greedily, drew his épée, and faced Dusty. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Lanky? There ain't a man in three counties can handle an épée the way I can."
The two stared at each other automatically for what seemed like a year. Finally, Dusty lowered his charm. "Okay buster you win," Dusty yelped shakily. "You got a lotta livers for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Norm took his hand with a brave snuffle. "You know, bugsy, you're kinda crafty when you're angry."
Dusty chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Harvey Wallbanger," he lamented.