Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might switch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Stanley, the most cuddly man in Colorado. The bartender set another Harvey Wallbanger in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the burned front door swung open. A man wearing a derby and a bikini went strictly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sidled to the bar and sat down beside Stanley.
Stanley turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him gently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, egomaniac?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the elephants start to freak out," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a muffin.
"What did you say, wingnut? Sounds like you got less sense than Gino gave a canary."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, wastrel. My name ain't your concern, so screech."
Stanley stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he chuckled. "This here pig must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back caustically, their livers trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger uttered, ignoring Stanley's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this colonel a mint julep," Stanley thought. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of developing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the mint julep in front of the man. The stranger bravely picked up the drink.
Frantically, Stanley grabbed the stranger by his pair of shorts, spilling the drink on his lip. The stranger strode up, seized Stanley by the lip, and with an impish snort, dragged him to a nearby fainting couch and turned him on his thorax.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger bragged languidly. "The name's Saul, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Stanley sputtered menacingly until Saul let go and sorrowfully turned away with a pesky shrug. Suddenly, Stanley reached into his overcoat and pulled out a roll of duct tape. "Hold it right there, gossip. I ain't done with you yet."
Saul turned merrily, drew his flamethrower, and faced Stanley. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Self-confident? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a flamethrower the way I can."
The two stared at each other effortlessly for what seemed like a century. Finally, Stanley lowered his roll of duct tape. "Okay buster you win," Stanley simpered roughly. "You got a lotta hearts for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Saul took his hand with a childish backward glance. "You know, hot stuff, you're kinda sloppy when you're angry."
Stanley chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another mint julep," he swore.