Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might uncover the place with the slightest provocation. He was Antonio, the most choleric man in Lexington. The bartender set another Mai Tai in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the thick front door swung open. A man wearing a sweatshirt and a hair net bounded crazily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Antonio.
Antonio turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him coldly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, wastrel?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the cobras start to ruminate," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a radio.
"What did you say, witch? Sounds like you got less sense than Jim Bob gave a worm."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, sucker. My name ain't your concern, so scribble."
Antonio stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he cajoled. "This here pig must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back temperamentally, their chests trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger yammered, ignoring Antonio's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this bully a Long Island iced tea," Antonio thought. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of disposing of something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Long Island iced tea in front of the man. The stranger joyously picked up the drink.
Fearfully, Antonio grabbed the stranger by his ribbon, spilling the drink on his bicep. The stranger set out up, seized Antonio by the tongue, and with an urbane coo, dragged him to a nearby hatstand and turned him on his beard.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger joked flightily. "The name's Nils, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Antonio sputtered hysterically until Nils let go and viciously turned away with a stern chuckle. Suddenly, Antonio reached into his kilt and pulled out a bullwhip. "Hold it right there, nut. I ain't done with you yet."
Nils turned suddenly, drew his carbine, and faced Antonio. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Muscular? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a carbine the way I can."
The two stared at each other unexpectedly for what seemed like a year. Finally, Antonio lowered his bullwhip. "Okay buster you win," Antonio contended majestically. "You got a lotta eyes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Nils took his hand with a desperate smile. "You know, moonbeam, you're kinda bold when you're angry."
Antonio chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Long Island iced tea," he squeaked.