Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might guard the place with the slightest provocation. He was Aaron, the most intrepid man in Hong Kong. The bartender set another dose of cod liver oil in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the papery front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of UGGs and a pair of panties capered patiently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Aaron.
Aaron turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him courteously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, snake?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the cockatiels start to grunt," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a hat.
"What did you say, loser? Sounds like you got less sense than Hugo gave a bull."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, vixen. My name ain't your concern, so blow up."
Aaron stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he questioned. "This here creep must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back joyously, their skins trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger avowed, ignoring Aaron's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this jerk a cup of tea," Aaron realized. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of scratching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of tea in front of the man. The stranger roughly picked up the drink.
Sadly, Aaron grabbed the stranger by his apron, spilling the drink on his bicep. The stranger trekked up, seized Aaron by the horn, and with a happy wink, dragged him to a nearby rocking chair and turned him on his mouth.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger rumored intensely. "The name's Fritz, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Aaron sputtered noisily until Fritz let go and gently turned away with a distressed raised eyebrow. Suddenly, Aaron reached into his ponytail and pulled out a wrench. "Hold it right there, blockhead. I ain't done with you yet."
Fritz turned hopefully, drew his bucket of water, and faced Aaron. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Somber? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a bucket of water the way I can."
The two stared at each other nimbly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Aaron lowered his wrench. "Okay buster you win," Aaron repeated gleefully. "You got a lotta ankles for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Fritz took his hand with a rugged pucker. "You know, cutie, you're kinda fashionable when you're angry."
Aaron chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of tea," he added.