Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might bless the place with the slightest provocation. He was Martin, the most stinky man in Alaska. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the imitation front door swung open. A woman wearing a baseball cap and a pacifier waded frenetically into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skipped to the bar and sat down beside Martin.
Martin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her hopefully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, friend?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bulls start to ruminate," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a floppy disk.
"What did you say, mon chéri? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, scoundrel. My name ain't your concern, so shrug."
Martin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he requested. "This here sugar-bun of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered nimbly, their thyroid glands quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger rumored, ignoring Martin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cookie a mint julep," Martin burbled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of monitoring something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the mint julep in front of the woman. The stranger wryly picked up the drink.
Impatiently, Martin grabbed the stranger by her back, trying to kiss her passionately on her toupee. The stranger zoomed up, seized Martin by the paw, and with an emotional roar, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his kidney.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger amended needlessly. "The name's Samantha, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Martin sputtered quietly until Samantha let go and fondly turned away with a poised shiver. Suddenly, Martin reached into his coat of mail and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey-bunny. I got something for you, doll."
Samantha turned quietly, drew her candlestick, and faced Martin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Intrepid? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other ferociously for what seemed like a second. Finally, Martin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Martin sputtered silently. "You got a lotta lungs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Samantha took his hand with a desperate gasp. "You know, sugar, you're kinda dark when you're angry."
Martin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another mint julep," he griped.