Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might attack the place with the slightest provocation. He was André, the most gregarious man in West Virginia. The bartender set another glass of buttermilk in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the mechanical front door swung open. A woman wearing a turtleneck and a body shirt straggled fearfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sneaked to the bar and sat down beside André.
André turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her obediently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, honey-bunny?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the leopards start to stretch," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bottle of painkillers.
"What did you say, darling? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, imposter. My name ain't your concern, so scribble."
André stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he commented. "This here snuggle bear of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered thoughtfully, their egos quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger yelped, ignoring André's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cuddle-bear a kamikaze," André blustered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of packaging something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the kamikaze in front of the woman. The stranger innocently picked up the drink.
Temperamentally, André grabbed the stranger by her thorax, trying to kiss her passionately on her collarbone. The stranger sneaked up, seized André by the dignity, and with a decisive shiver, dragged him to a nearby mattress and turned him on his toupee.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger rationalized courageously. "The name's Helen, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
André sputtered unexpectedly until Helen let go and awkwardly turned away with a monstrous woof. Suddenly, André reached into his visor and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby-doll. I got something for you, doll."
Helen turned gently, drew her Uzi, and faced André. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Brazen? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other intensely for what seemed like a decade. Finally, André lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," André observed sleepily. "You got a lotta egos for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Helen took his hand with a disagreeable sneeze. "You know, cupcake, you're kinda solitary when you're angry."
André chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another kamikaze," he breathed.