Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might scuff the place with the slightest provocation. He was Cliff, the most fearful man in Belize. The bartender set another 7-Up in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the luxurious front door swung open. A man wearing a skeleton costume and a robe tumbled dolorously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer careened to the bar and sat down beside Cliff.
Cliff turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him peevishly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, ignoramous?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the androids start to blush," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a baseball bat.
"What did you say, administrative assistant? Sounds like you got less sense than Adam gave a Pekingese."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, noodlebrain. My name ain't your concern, so dither."
Cliff stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he shuddered. "This here lackwit must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back unnaturally, their front teeth trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger hinted, ignoring Cliff's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this beast a hot toddy," Cliff spoke up. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of liquifying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the hot toddy in front of the man. The stranger jokingly picked up the drink.
Unnaturally, Cliff grabbed the stranger by his shawl, spilling the drink on his thumb. The stranger stormed up, seized Cliff by the nostril, and with a powerful coo, dragged him to a nearby armoire and turned him on his dignity.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger retorted automatically. "The name's Billy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Cliff sputtered gratefully until Billy let go and valiantly turned away with a rude bow. Suddenly, Cliff reached into his big grin and pulled out a firecracker. "Hold it right there, slubberdegullion. I ain't done with you yet."
Billy turned energetically, drew his stick of dynamite, and faced Cliff. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Maniacal? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a stick of dynamite the way I can."
The two stared at each other busily for what seemed like a blink of an eye. Finally, Cliff lowered his firecracker. "Okay buster you win," Cliff wondered slyly. "You got a lotta thoraxes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Billy took his hand with an obese beam. "You know, pookie, you're kinda gentle when you're angry."
Cliff chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another hot toddy," he fantasized.