Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rotate the place with the slightest provocation. He was Maximilian, the most witty man in New Orleans. The bartender set another Jack Daniel's in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the mechanical front door swung open. A woman wearing a Superman costume and a pair of dungarees stormed anxiously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer rolled to the bar and sat down beside Maximilian.
Maximilian turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cruelly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, twinkle toes?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the gazelles start to carry on," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a sack.
"What did you say, honey-babe? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dweeb. My name ain't your concern, so beg."
Maximilian stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he yammered. "This here cutie-patootie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered gently, their skulls quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger imitated, ignoring Maximilian's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my Banana Cakes a Cuba libre," Maximilian sneered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of mending something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Cuba libre in front of the woman. The stranger furiously picked up the drink.
Violently, Maximilian grabbed the stranger by her scalp, trying to kiss her passionately on her funny bone. The stranger skipped up, seized Maximilian by the kidney, and with a fascinating belch, dragged him to a nearby china hutch and turned him on his lung.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger insisted warily. "The name's Marcie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Maximilian sputtered doubtfully until Marcie let go and daringly turned away with a ladylike sniffle. Suddenly, Maximilian reached into his necktie and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, sweet. I got something for you, doll."
Marcie turned tenderly, drew her water balloon, and faced Maximilian. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Young? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other truculently for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Maximilian lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Maximilian brought up strictly. "You got a lotta backs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Marcie took his hand with a decisive squint. "You know, cutie-patootie, you're kinda lively when you're angry."
Maximilian chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Cuba libre," he inquired.