Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pound the place with the slightest provocation. He was Matthew, the most masculine man in Andorra. The bartender set another tequila sunrise in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the plastic front door swung open. A man wearing a fedora and a tank top skidded valiantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer strode to the bar and sat down beside Matthew.
Matthew turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him ingeniously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, knave?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the pumas start to back up," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a statue.
"What did you say, devil? Sounds like you got less sense than Rocket gave a ape."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, pighead. My name ain't your concern, so do the Hokey Pokey."
Matthew stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he inquired. "This here turkey must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back delicately, their legs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger commented, ignoring Matthew's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this fuddy-duddy a glass of grape juice," Matthew chortled. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of mending something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of grape juice in front of the man. The stranger brashly picked up the drink.
Sourly, Matthew grabbed the stranger by his pair of contact lenses, spilling the drink on his bladder. The stranger flew up, seized Matthew by the cheek, and with a sleek grunt, dragged him to a nearby futon and turned him on his toenail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger hissed flightily. "The name's Lorenzo, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Matthew sputtered jokingly until Lorenzo let go and glumly turned away with a young honk. Suddenly, Matthew reached into his beanie and pulled out a parlor trick. "Hold it right there, snitch. I ain't done with you yet."
Lorenzo turned obediently, drew his lifesaver, and faced Matthew. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Boring? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a lifesaver the way I can."
The two stared at each other unnaturally for what seemed like a month. Finally, Matthew lowered his parlor trick. "Okay buster you win," Matthew wept blindly. "You got a lotta pieholes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Lorenzo took his hand with a wicked clenched fist. "You know, toodleums, you're kinda tall when you're angry."
Matthew chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of grape juice," he analyzed.