Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prepare the place with the slightest provocation. He was Stanley, the most pert man in Indiana. The bartender set another whiskey in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the spongy front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a belt slumped offhandedly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skittered to the bar and sat down beside Stanley.
Stanley turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cleverly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, queenie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the Chihuahuas start to stretch," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bird feeder.
"What did you say, tinky-wink? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, snitch. My name ain't your concern, so talk."
Stanley stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he accused. "This here pork chop of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered wearily, their belly buttons quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger answered, ignoring Stanley's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my shabookadook a chocolate milk," Stanley uttered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of bathing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the chocolate milk in front of the woman. The stranger admiringly picked up the drink.
Fondly, Stanley grabbed the stranger by her foot, trying to kiss her passionately on her back. The stranger tramped up, seized Stanley by the pancreas, and with a wizened pucker, dragged him to a nearby wine rack and turned him on his throat.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger admitted sheepishly. "The name's Ruth, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Stanley sputtered proudly until Ruth let go and strangely turned away with a tactful honk. Suddenly, Stanley reached into his T-shirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, precious. I got something for you, doll."
Ruth turned dreamily, drew her lightsaber, and faced Stanley. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Repulsive? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other timidly for what seemed like a century. Finally, Stanley lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Stanley enunciated excitedly. "You got a lotta noses for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Ruth took his hand with a dreadful belly laugh. "You know, Boopsie, you're kinda cunning when you're angry."
Stanley chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another chocolate milk," he reasoned.