Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might fortify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Babyface, the most arrogant man in Angola. The bartender set another Mudslide in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the ornate front door swung open. A woman wearing a set of scrubs and a pair of Crocs climbed vigorously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer scampered to the bar and sat down beside Babyface.
Babyface turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her ruefully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mopsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the sloths start to burble," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stick of gum.
"What did you say, Banana Cakes? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, laggard. My name ain't your concern, so quiver."
Babyface stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he declaimed. "This here mon bébé of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered boisterously, their funny bones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger declared, ignoring Babyface's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my punkin a glass of lemonade," Babyface hissed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of engraving something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of lemonade in front of the woman. The stranger crazily picked up the drink.
Pityingly, Babyface grabbed the stranger by her ego, trying to kiss her passionately on her carotid artery. The stranger swung up, seized Babyface by the skin, and with an absent-minded snort, dragged him to a nearby couch and turned him on his little toe.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger prattled haughtily. "The name's Belle, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Babyface sputtered properly until Belle let go and recklessly turned away with a decent flutter. Suddenly, Babyface reached into his cocktail dress and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, radiant starlight. I got something for you, doll."
Belle turned trustingly, drew her accordion, and faced Babyface. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Brilliant? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other defiantly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Babyface lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Babyface decided gingerly. "You got a lotta pancreases for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Belle took his hand with a sweet tear. "You know, rose petal, you're kinda nervous when you're angry."
Babyface chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of lemonade," he belched.