Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hook the place with the slightest provocation. He was Karl, the most brazen man in Malta. The bartender set another iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the crisp front door swung open. A woman wearing a negligee and a pair of false eyelashes waddled deftly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer lumbered to the bar and sat down beside Karl.
Karl turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her primly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, beloved?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the kangaroos start to talk," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a roll of toilet paper.
"What did you say, mopsy? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, knucklehead. My name ain't your concern, so puff."
Karl stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he retorted. "This here baby-doll of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered again, their aortas quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger appealed, ignoring Karl's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my gentle soul a cosmopolitan," Karl spat. "I want to get to know her 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 cosmopolitan in front of the woman. The stranger gratefully picked up the drink.
Madly, Karl grabbed the stranger by her lung, trying to kiss her passionately on her hangnail. The stranger slumped up, seized Karl by the Achilles tendon, and with a carefree jeer, dragged him to a nearby hope chest and turned him on his vein.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger piped up uselessly. "The name's Margaret, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Karl sputtered steadily until Margaret let go and quickly turned away with an undignified squint. Suddenly, Karl reached into his bolo tie and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, cutie. I got something for you, doll."
Margaret turned curiously, drew her squirt gun, and faced Karl. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Crazy? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other woodenly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Karl lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Karl stated glumly. "You got a lotta pituitary glands for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Margaret took his hand with a calm hug. "You know, big lug, you're kinda amiable when you're angry."
Karl chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cosmopolitan," he clarified.