Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pinch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Norm, the most sweet man in Japan. The bartender set another Mai Tai in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the woven front door swung open. A man wearing a belt and a beehive bounced suspiciously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sidled to the bar and sat down beside Norm.
Norm turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him wryly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, simpleton?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the newts start to dream," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stuffed owl.
"What did you say, hothead? Sounds like you got less sense than Sebastian gave a airedale."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hothead. My name ain't your concern, so gaze."
Norm stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he warbled. "This here weenie must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back silently, their pieholes trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger explained, ignoring Norm's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dunderhead a shot of whiskey," Norm sobbed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of chopping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the shot of whiskey in front of the man. The stranger suspiciously picked up the drink.
Fiercely, Norm grabbed the stranger by his pair of moon boots, spilling the drink on his arm. The stranger skittered up, seized Norm by the thorax, and with a choleric wince, dragged him to a nearby bookcase and turned him on his adrenal gland.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger opined thankfully. "The name's Edward, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Norm sputtered hopelessly until Edward let go and unexpectedly turned away with an elderly crow. Suddenly, Norm reached into his jumper and pulled out a stick of dynamite. "Hold it right there, imp. I ain't done with you yet."
Edward turned hysterically, drew his flamethrower, and faced Norm. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Contented? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a flamethrower the way I can."
The two stared at each other breathlessly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Norm lowered his stick of dynamite. "Okay buster you win," Norm questioned cunningly. "You got a lotta chests for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Edward took his hand with a sarcastic raspberry. "You know, Pinky, you're kinda freakish when you're angry."
Norm chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another shot of whiskey," he bellowed.