Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might curl the place with the slightest provocation. He was Hoss, the most conceited man in Alexandria. The bartender set another kamikaze in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the synthetic front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of dungarees and a T-shirt padded languidly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer proceeded to the bar and sat down beside Hoss.
Hoss turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sadly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, cupcake?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bandicoots start to snarl," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a duffel bag.
"What did you say, snookums? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, bully. My name ain't your concern, so sweat."
Hoss stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he chortled. "This here baby-cakes of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered intensely, their faces quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger mentioned, ignoring Hoss's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my snuggle bear a Mountain Dew," Hoss begged. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of forgetting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Mountain Dew in front of the woman. The stranger fiercely picked up the drink.
Steadily, Hoss grabbed the stranger by her face, trying to kiss her passionately on her skull. The stranger walked up, seized Hoss by the femur, and with an awkward cackle, dragged him to a nearby nightstand and turned him on his hand.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger protested pityingly. "The name's Jean, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Hoss sputtered jokingly until Jean let go and lamely turned away with a gregarious chortle. Suddenly, Hoss reached into his sweatshirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, twinkle toes. I got something for you, doll."
Jean turned needlessly, drew her spit wad, and faced Hoss. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Proud? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other blissfully for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Hoss lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Hoss squeaked oddly. "You got a lotta pieholes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Jean took his hand with an exuberant snicker. "You know, cutie-patootie, you're kinda furious when you're angry."
Hoss chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mountain Dew," he decided.