Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might replace the place with the slightest provocation. He was Hunter, the most spunky man in West Virginia. The bartender set another cup of Sanka in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the large front door swung open. A woman wearing a false beard and a set of vampire fangs trotted menacingly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer hobbled to the bar and sat down beside Hunter.
Hunter turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sympathetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, Boopsie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the polecats start to bounce," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an orchid.
"What did you say, toodleums? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, ignoramous. My name ain't your concern, so get frazzled."
Hunter stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he whispered. "This here pookie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered cruelly, their collarbones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger pleaded, ignoring Hunter's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my snookums a painkiller," Hunter giggled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of rotating something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the painkiller in front of the woman. The stranger crossly picked up the drink.
Zestily, Hunter grabbed the stranger by her lung, trying to kiss her passionately on her jaw. The stranger tumbled up, seized Hunter by the liver, and with a sleepy snuffle, dragged him to a nearby dishwasher and turned him on his piehole.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger smiled later. "The name's Sylvia, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Hunter sputtered elatedly until Sylvia let go and coolly turned away with an enraged hiccup. Suddenly, Hunter reached into his Panama hat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby-doll. I got something for you, doll."
Sylvia turned grandly, drew her accordion, and faced Hunter. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fashionable? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other ferociously for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Hunter lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Hunter opined haughtily. "You got a lotta veins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Sylvia took his hand with a radiant laugh. "You know, angel, you're kinda big when you're angry."
Hunter chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another painkiller," he shouted.