Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might kill the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jess, the most colorless man in Memphis. The bartender set another Tom Collins in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the expensive front door swung open. A man wearing a set of football pads and a pair of suspenders stormed sleepily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer paraded to the bar and sat down beside Jess.
Jess turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him positively. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, stinker?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the jaguars start to stare," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bottle.
"What did you say, animal? Sounds like you got less sense than Max gave a bumblebee."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, wraith. My name ain't your concern, so collapse."
Jess stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he sniffed. "This here knucklehead must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back stealthily, their collarbones trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger provoked, ignoring Jess's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this lackwit a glass of carrot juice," Jess screamed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of dressing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of carrot juice in front of the man. The stranger deliberately picked up the drink.
Zestily, Jess grabbed the stranger by his jumpsuit, spilling the drink on his lip. The stranger leapt up, seized Jess by the lip, and with a statuesque flinch, dragged him to a nearby couch and turned him on his Adam's apple.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger reacted impatiently. "The name's Oliver, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jess sputtered needlessly until Oliver let go and boisterously turned away with a comely beam. Suddenly, Jess reached into his pair of knickers and pulled out a cobra. "Hold it right there, mangy rascal. I ain't done with you yet."
Oliver turned fiercely, drew his air horn, and faced Jess. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Dumb? There ain't a man in four counties can handle an air horn the way I can."
The two stared at each other speedily for what seemed like a day. Finally, Jess lowered his cobra. "Okay buster you win," Jess recited truculently. "You got a lotta eyelashes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Oliver took his hand with a wicked snort. "You know, little chickadee, you're kinda melancholic when you're angry."
Jess chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of carrot juice," he realized.