Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might annoint the place with the slightest provocation. He was Johnny, the most merry man in Yemen. The bartender set another Brandy Alexander in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the flexible front door swung open. A man wearing a necktie and a belly button jewel paraded oddly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer waddled to the bar and sat down beside Johnny.
Johnny turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him truculently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, good-for-nothing?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the buzzards start to slobber," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pair of knitting needles.
"What did you say, slubberdegullion? Sounds like you got less sense than Bud gave a lamb."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, scurvy bilge rat. My name ain't your concern, so grin."
Johnny stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he tittered. "This here snake must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back uselessly, their hips trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger alleged, ignoring Johnny's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this idiot a Pepto Bismol," Johnny shouted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of exposing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Pepto Bismol in front of the man. The stranger sarcastically picked up the drink.
Charmingly, Johnny grabbed the stranger by his romper, spilling the drink on his shoulder. The stranger sped up, seized Johnny by the ear, and with an enchanting laugh, dragged him to a nearby credenza and turned him on his belly.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger indicated fearlessly. "The name's Bones, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Johnny sputtered later until Bones let go and offhandedly turned away with a disorganized cringe. Suddenly, Johnny reached into his tuxedo and pulled out a potato masher. "Hold it right there, cur. I ain't done with you yet."
Bones turned furiously, drew his sickle, and faced Johnny. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fuzzy? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a sickle the way I can."
The two stared at each other impatiently for what seemed like a second. Finally, Johnny lowered his potato masher. "Okay buster you win," Johnny tittered shyly. "You got a lotta wrists for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Bones took his hand with a statuesque frown. "You know, Banana Cakes, you're kinda pesky when you're angry."
Johnny chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Pepto Bismol," he exploded.