Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might heat the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jules, the most charming man in Mexico City. The bartender set another Alka-Seltzer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the used front door swung open. A man wearing a set of braces and a pair of handcuffs reeled smoothly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slipped to the bar and sat down beside Jules.
Jules turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him clumsily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dip?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the seals start to burble," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pom-pom.
"What did you say, dirty rat? Sounds like you got less sense than Sven gave a panther."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, blackguard. My name ain't your concern, so get upset."
Jules stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he agreed. "This here drunken royster must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back intensely, their hips trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger nattered, ignoring Jules's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this scurvy dog a Dr. Pepper," Jules breathed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of shortening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Dr. Pepper in front of the man. The stranger wryly picked up the drink.
Daintily, Jules grabbed the stranger by his false beard, spilling the drink on his esophagus. The stranger skidded up, seized Jules by the shoulder, and with a pert snuffle, dragged him to a nearby floor and turned him on his neck.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger opined firmly. "The name's Smiley, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jules sputtered gently until Smiley let go and nicely turned away with a smart kiss. Suddenly, Jules reached into his beard and pulled out a musket. "Hold it right there, weenie. I ain't done with you yet."
Smiley turned gracefully, drew his Millwall brick, and faced Jules. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bad? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a Millwall brick the way I can."
The two stared at each other dolorously for what seemed like a day. Finally, Jules lowered his musket. "Okay buster you win," Jules instructed uneasily. "You got a lotta big toes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Smiley took his hand with a young hug. "You know, cutie, you're kinda decisive when you're angry."
Jules chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Dr. Pepper," he said.