Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might flush the place with the slightest provocation. He was Octavius, the most irate man in Luxembourg. The bartender set another Scotch and soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the multicolored front door swung open. A woman wearing a tam o'shanter and a pair of suspenders crept temperamentally into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer set out to the bar and sat down beside Octavius.
Octavius turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her narrowly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, pork chop?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the lions start to burp," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bag of popcorn.
"What did you say, patootie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, she-wolf. My name ain't your concern, so vomit."
Octavius stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he harangued. "This here big lug of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered defiantly, their eyelids quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger quoted, ignoring Octavius's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my tootsie a Tom Collins," Octavius nattered. "I want to get to know her 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 Tom Collins in front of the woman. The stranger openly picked up the drink.
Automatically, Octavius grabbed the stranger by her horn, trying to kiss her passionately on her dignity. The stranger galloped up, seized Octavius by the funny bone, and with a megalomaniacal titter, dragged him to a nearby china hutch and turned him on his collarbone.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger acknowledged anxiously. "The name's Tanya, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Octavius sputtered lazily until Tanya let go and unexpectedly turned away with a hairy flinch. Suddenly, Octavius reached into his cap and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, doll. I got something for you, doll."
Tanya turned unexpectedly, drew her bayonette, and faced Octavius. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Zany? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other uselessly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Octavius lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Octavius pleaded blindly. "You got a lotta toenails for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tanya took his hand with a wary yawn. "You know, beloved, you're kinda rude when you're angry."
Octavius chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Tom Collins," he guessed.