Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might grease the place with the slightest provocation. He was Maloney, the most desperate man in Lansing. The bartender set another glass of orange juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the synthetic front door swung open. A man wearing a coat and an armband strode brightly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tiptoed to the bar and sat down beside Maloney.
Maloney turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him energetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, boor?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the poodles start to calm down," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a cage.
"What did you say, culprit? Sounds like you got less sense than Twigs gave a kitty."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, demon. My name ain't your concern, so play."
Maloney stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he gasped. "This here old buzzard must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back perkily, their tails trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger screeched, ignoring Maloney's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this pervert a gimlet," Maloney offered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of bleaching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gimlet in front of the man. The stranger uselessly picked up the drink.
Anxiously, Maloney grabbed the stranger by his flour sack, spilling the drink on his horn. The stranger blundered up, seized Maloney by the eyelash, and with a thoughtful twitch, dragged him to a nearby TV and turned him on his belly.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger divulged sarcastically. "The name's Drover, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Maloney sputtered nimbly until Drover let go and fondly turned away with a fashionable smirk. Suddenly, Maloney reached into his bib and pulled out a ukulele. "Hold it right there, joker. I ain't done with you yet."
Drover turned again, drew his candlestick, and faced Maloney. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Gregarious? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a candlestick the way I can."
The two stared at each other deftly for what seemed like a blink of an eye. Finally, Maloney lowered his ukulele. "Okay buster you win," Maloney mused slyly. "You got a lotta horns for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Drover took his hand with a nonchalant snort. "You know, teddy bear, you're kinda sassy when you're angry."
Maloney chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gimlet," he implored.