Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might get the place with the slightest provocation. He was Gilbert, the most bald man in Kansas. The bartender set another glass of fruit punch in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the valuable front door swung open. A woman wearing a kilt and a beach towel jogged briskly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer dashed to the bar and sat down beside Gilbert.
Gilbert turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, swizzle?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the chipmunks start to hum," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bell.
"What did you say, heartthrob? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, toilet vulture. My name ain't your concern, so mutter."
Gilbert stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mused. "This here honey pie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered roughly, their adrenal glands quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger giggled, ignoring Gilbert's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my beloved a hot buttered rum," Gilbert opined. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of guarding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the hot buttered rum in front of the woman. The stranger vacantly picked up the drink.
Nonchalantly, Gilbert grabbed the stranger by her forehead, trying to kiss her passionately on her pinky. The stranger ambled up, seized Gilbert by the ear, and with a precocious wrinkled nose, dragged him to a nearby end table and turned him on his neck.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger whined thoughtfully. "The name's Sydney, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Gilbert sputtered cheerfully until Sydney let go and furiously turned away with a decent hoot. Suddenly, Gilbert reached into his thong and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, angel. I got something for you, doll."
Sydney turned delicately, drew her sickle, and faced Gilbert. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Suave? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other unabashedly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Gilbert lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Gilbert revealed despondently. "You got a lotta elbows for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Sydney took his hand with a passionate smirk. "You know, angel, you're kinda stubborn when you're angry."
Gilbert chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another hot buttered rum," he screamed.