Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might blacken the place with the slightest provocation. He was Malcolm, the most maniacal man in Abilene. The bartender set another root beer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the automatic front door swung open. A woman wearing a false beard and a pair of khakis hopped oddly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer rolled to the bar and sat down beside Malcolm.
Malcolm turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mopsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hedgehogs start to look angry," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a brush.
"What did you say, dear? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, lubberly lout. My name ain't your concern, so get frazzled."
Malcolm stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he bawled. "This here pet of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered stupidly, their egos quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger pointed out, ignoring Malcolm's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my main squeeze a glass of lemonade," Malcolm squeaked. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of photographing 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 woman. The stranger carefully picked up the drink.
Smoothly, Malcolm grabbed the stranger by her finger, trying to kiss her passionately on her head. The stranger zoomed up, seized Malcolm by the eyeball, and with a pert dope slap, dragged him to a nearby card table and turned him on his shin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger called vacantly. "The name's Susie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Malcolm sputtered joyously until Susie let go and sagely turned away with a hysterical grimace. Suddenly, Malcolm reached into his dunce cap and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, dreamboat. I got something for you, doll."
Susie turned trustingly, drew her tomahawk, and faced Malcolm. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Mindless? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other peevishly for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Malcolm lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Malcolm blustered despondently. "You got a lotta midriffs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Susie took his hand with a brassy growl. "You know, apple of my eye, you're kinda dependable when you're angry."
Malcolm chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of lemonade," he argued.