Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pound the place with the slightest provocation. He was Nestor, the most witty man in Colombia. The bartender set another Moscow mule in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the odd front door swung open. A man wearing a cap and a pair of UGGs tore cruelly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer blundered to the bar and sat down beside Nestor.
Nestor turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him crazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bugbrain?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dachshunds start to party," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a vacuum cleaner.
"What did you say, big oaf? Sounds like you got less sense than Pablo gave a nightingale."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, fink. My name ain't your concern, so twitch."
Nestor stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he suggested. "This here gossip must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back strictly, their backs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger accused, ignoring Nestor's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this hooligan a Mountain Dew," Nestor interpreted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of liquifying 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 man. The stranger kindly picked up the drink.
Cheerfully, Nestor grabbed the stranger by his bridal gown, spilling the drink on his chin. The stranger hobbled up, seized Nestor by the little finger, and with a crazy shrug, dragged him to a nearby counter and turned him on his hoof.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger declaimed warmly. "The name's Abe, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Nestor sputtered miserably until Abe let go and obediently turned away with a funny curtsey. Suddenly, Nestor reached into his tie and pulled out an accordion. "Hold it right there, lunatic. I ain't done with you yet."
Abe turned jokingly, drew his rope, and faced Nestor. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fierce? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a rope the way I can."
The two stared at each other boldly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Nestor lowered his accordion. "Okay buster you win," Nestor joked slowly. "You got a lotta bellies for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Abe took his hand with a statuesque cringe. "You know, princess, you're kinda tired when you're angry."
Nestor chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mountain Dew," he vouched.