Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might seal the place with the slightest provocation. He was Conner, the most vile man in Tahiti. The bartender set another chocolate milk in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hard front door swung open. A man wearing a wizard's hat and a cap scooted uneasily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tramped to the bar and sat down beside Conner.
Conner turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him slowly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, whippersnapper?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the wallabies start to yell," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a china doll.
"What did you say, dip? Sounds like you got less sense than Phil gave a wolverine."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, kook. My name ain't your concern, so flinch."
Conner stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he yelped. "This here culprit must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back automatically, their earlobes trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger griped, ignoring Conner's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this nitwit a latte," Conner called. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of crushing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the latte in front of the man. The stranger reluctantly picked up the drink.
Gleefully, Conner grabbed the stranger by his pair of glasses, spilling the drink on his midriff. The stranger swaggered up, seized Conner by the ear, and with an absent-minded flush, dragged him to a nearby pedestal and turned him on his eyelid.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger professed despondently. "The name's Mac, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Conner sputtered carelessly until Mac let go and courteously turned away with a colorless bow. Suddenly, Conner reached into his beard and pulled out a disarming smile. "Hold it right there, big oaf. I ain't done with you yet."
Mac turned tearfully, drew his snowball, and faced Conner. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Pensive? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a snowball the way I can."
The two stared at each other suddenly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Conner lowered his disarming smile. "Okay buster you win," Conner recited defiantly. "You got a lotta hearts for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Mac took his hand with a naïve belly laugh. "You know, snuggle bear, you're kinda nonchalant when you're angry."
Conner chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another latte," he vowed.