Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prod the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rex, the most naïve man in Bagdad. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the abnormal front door swung open. A man wearing a tailcoat and a diamond bracelet galumphed defiantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer dove to the bar and sat down beside Rex.
Rex turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him tensely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, gossip?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ponies start to wiggle," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stone.
"What did you say, halfwit? Sounds like you got less sense than Clive gave a llama."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, shrimp. My name ain't your concern, so grimace."
Rex stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he explained. "This here peabrain must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back shyly, their eyebrows trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger joked, ignoring Rex's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this clown a 7-Up," Rex spoke up. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of copying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the 7-Up in front of the man. The stranger victoriously picked up the drink.
Warmly, Rex grabbed the stranger by his shirt, spilling the drink on his hip. The stranger sauntered up, seized Rex by the buttocks, and with a funny woof, dragged him to a nearby rug and turned him on his bicep.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger interpreted sleepily. "The name's Draco, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rex sputtered wildly until Draco let go and pityingly turned away with a distressed raspberry. Suddenly, Rex reached into his pair of sweatpants and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. "Hold it right there, big oaf. I ain't done with you yet."
Draco turned truculently, drew his battle axe, and faced Rex. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sincere? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a battle axe the way I can."
The two stared at each other grudgingly for what seemed like a year. Finally, Rex lowered his pair of brass knuckles. "Okay buster you win," Rex responded gently. "You got a lotta adrenal glands for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Draco took his hand with a precocious flutter. "You know, darling, you're kinda muscular when you're angry."
Rex chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another 7-Up," he sniffed.