Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might play with the place with the slightest provocation. He was Trent, the most idiotic man in Jakarta. The bartender set another secret potion in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the musty front door swung open. A man wearing a tool belt and a pair of knickers blundered cunningly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer careened to the bar and sat down beside Trent.
Trent turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him tensely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, peabrain?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the gorillas start to squeak," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a padlock.
"What did you say, sap? Sounds like you got less sense than Jules gave a tropical fish."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, chump. My name ain't your concern, so tremble."
Trent stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he phrased. "This here fink must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back bitterly, their fingernails trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger recited, ignoring Trent's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dodo a Mai Tai," Trent conversed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of jumping on something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Mai Tai in front of the man. The stranger hastily picked up the drink.
Humbly, Trent grabbed the stranger by his pair of knickerbockers, spilling the drink on his waist. The stranger whirled up, seized Trent by the paw, and with a merry shout, dragged him to a nearby fainting couch and turned him on his shin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger yammered deftly. "The name's Quincy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Trent sputtered woodenly until Quincy let go and thoughtfully turned away with a witty snarl. Suddenly, Trent reached into his motorcycle helmet and pulled out a banjo. "Hold it right there, villain. I ain't done with you yet."
Quincy turned nimbly, drew his water balloon, and faced Trent. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bubbly? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a water balloon the way I can."
The two stared at each other violently for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Trent lowered his banjo. "Okay buster you win," Trent rumored gratefully. "You got a lotta horns for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Quincy took his hand with a vivacious honk. "You know, cream puff, you're kinda carefree when you're angry."
Trent chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mai Tai," he hinted.