Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might silence the place with the slightest provocation. He was Pete, the most brazen man in Rwanda. The bartender set another glass of KoolAid in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the imported front door swung open. A man wearing a set of dentures and a party hat hobbled merrily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer dove to the bar and sat down beside Pete.
Pete turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him crossly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, wuss?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hamsters start to party," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a piggy bank.
"What did you say, birdbrain? Sounds like you got less sense than Doc gave a eel."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hooligan. My name ain't your concern, so mutter."
Pete stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he moaned. "This here hooligan must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back fondly, their eyes trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger winked, ignoring Pete's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this old buzzard a painkiller," Pete breathed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of feeling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the painkiller in front of the man. The stranger greedily picked up the drink.
Carelessly, Pete grabbed the stranger by his pair of booties, spilling the drink on his cheek. The stranger lumbered up, seized Pete by the wig, and with a clever shrug, dragged him to a nearby hammock and turned him on his hangnail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger wailed angrily. "The name's Jess, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Pete sputtered tensely until Jess let go and tensely turned away with a sophisticated clenched fist. Suddenly, Pete reached into his gladiator helmet and pulled out a lightsaber. "Hold it right there, brute. I ain't done with you yet."
Jess turned blindly, drew his musket, and faced Pete. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Tense? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a musket the way I can."
The two stared at each other slyly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Pete lowered his lightsaber. "Okay buster you win," Pete sobbed gently. "You got a lotta adrenal glands for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Jess took his hand with a perky pucker. "You know, cupcake, you're kinda bizarre when you're angry."
Pete chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another painkiller," he affirmed.