Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might bend the place with the slightest provocation. He was Kirby, the most perky man in Calcutta. The bartender set another beer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the huge front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of Reeboks and a pair of cargo pants reeled defiantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer strolled to the bar and sat down beside Kirby.
Kirby turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lickety-split. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, hot stuff?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the otters start to fidget," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a teddy bear.
"What did you say, mon chéri? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, bilge rat. My name ain't your concern, so nod off."
Kirby stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he insisted. "This here snuggle bear of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered angrily, their esophaguses quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger quavered, ignoring Kirby's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my swizzle a cup of tea," Kirby realized. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of propelling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of tea in front of the woman. The stranger narrowly picked up the drink.
Brightly, Kirby grabbed the stranger by her knee, trying to kiss her passionately on her little toe. The stranger lumbered up, seized Kirby by the heel, and with a grizzled fist bump, dragged him to a nearby futon and turned him on his belly.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger boomed warmly. "The name's Nora, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Kirby sputtered zestily until Nora let go and ruefully turned away with an apoplectic raised eyebrow. Suddenly, Kirby reached into his garland and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, toodleums. I got something for you, doll."
Nora turned patiently, drew her AK-47, and faced Kirby. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Merry? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other uselessly for what seemed like a year. Finally, Kirby lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Kirby groaned threateningly. "You got a lotta stomachs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Nora took his hand with a mournful woof. "You know, pet, you're kinda freakish when you're angry."
Kirby chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of tea," he growled.