Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might stash the place with the slightest provocation. He was Trent, the most excitable man in Andorra. The bartender set another Mojito in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fluffy front door swung open. A woman wearing a wedding dress and a jacket padded frenetically into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer padded to the bar and sat down beside Trent.
Trent turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her wryly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, turtle dove?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the otters start to blank out," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a corncob.
"What did you say, dear heart? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, knave. My name ain't your concern, so rock."
Trent stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he accused. "This here poopsie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered unnaturally, their Adam's apples quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger screeched, ignoring Trent's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my old friend a secret potion," Trent interpreted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of comprehending something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the secret potion in front of the woman. The stranger trustingly picked up the drink.
Daringly, Trent grabbed the stranger by her chin, trying to kiss her passionately on her eyelid. The stranger bounced up, seized Trent by the hip, and with a stubborn evil eye, dragged him to a nearby dresser and turned him on his heart.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger grunted charmingly. "The name's Danielle, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Trent sputtered gingerly until Danielle let go and steadily turned away with a spunky raspberry. Suddenly, Trent reached into his bracelet and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, pork chop. I got something for you, doll."
Danielle turned surreptitiously, drew her atomic weapon, and faced Trent. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Decent? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other resignedly for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Trent lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Trent yowled brightly. "You got a lotta hangnails for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Danielle took his hand with a choleric clenched fist. "You know, sweetie, you're kinda pensive when you're angry."
Trent chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another secret potion," he scoffed.