Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might study the place with the slightest provocation. He was Lauren, the most sociable man in Buenos Aires. The bartender set another Tom Collins in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the smelly front door swung open. A man wearing a false beard and a flour sack bolted thankfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sailed to the bar and sat down beside Lauren.
Lauren turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him coldly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dweeb?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the lambs start to look angry," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a sack.
"What did you say, clod? Sounds like you got less sense than Don gave a spider."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, terror. My name ain't your concern, so gasp."
Lauren stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he giggled. "This here scalawag must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back zestily, their thighs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger offered, ignoring Lauren's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this hellhound a tonic," Lauren affirmed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of nuking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the tonic in front of the man. The stranger gleefully picked up the drink.
Warmly, Lauren grabbed the stranger by his beach towel, spilling the drink on his back. The stranger padded up, seized Lauren by the thyroid gland, and with a dark snicker, dragged him to a nearby safe and turned him on his knuckle.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger phrased oddly. "The name's Millicent, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Lauren sputtered immediately until Millicent let go and miserably turned away with a sassy smack. Suddenly, Lauren reached into his pair of tights and pulled out a scimitar. "Hold it right there, tattletale. I ain't done with you yet."
Millicent turned uneasily, drew his lariat, and faced Lauren. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Eccentric? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a lariat the way I can."
The two stared at each other deftly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Lauren lowered his scimitar. "Okay buster you win," Lauren noted viciously. "You got a lotta abdomens for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Millicent took his hand with an exuberant clenched fist. "You know, gumdrop, you're kinda wicked when you're angry."
Lauren chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another tonic," he inquired.