Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might squash the place with the slightest provocation. He was Gino, the most lanky man in Berlin. The bartender set another hot buttered rum in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the shiny front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of Groucho glasses and a camisole trotted courteously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tiptoed to the bar and sat down beside Gino.
Gino turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him intensely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bugbrain?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the chimpanzees start to vegetate," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a crayon.
"What did you say, yeti? Sounds like you got less sense than Aiden gave a warthog."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, turkey. My name ain't your concern, so dawdle."
Gino stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he thought. "This here dingleberry must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back gruffly, their lungs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger gabbed, ignoring Gino's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this floozy a bottle of Gatorade," Gino reasoned. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of shortening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the bottle of Gatorade in front of the man. The stranger fearfully picked up the drink.
Caustically, Gino grabbed the stranger by his locket, spilling the drink on his Adam's apple. The stranger lumbered up, seized Gino by the collarbone, and with an excitable titter, dragged him to a nearby stool and turned him on his shoulder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger explained peevishly. "The name's Cat, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Gino sputtered slyly until Cat let go and blindly turned away with a shifty jeer. Suddenly, Gino reached into his diamond necklace and pulled out a silver bullet. "Hold it right there, troglodyte. I ain't done with you yet."
Cat turned sourly, drew his sling, and faced Gino. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Obnoxious? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a sling the way I can."
The two stared at each other softly for what seemed like a blink of an eye. Finally, Gino lowered his silver bullet. "Okay buster you win," Gino wondered flightily. "You got a lotta hearts for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Cat took his hand with an irate clenched fist. "You know, heart of hearts, you're kinda cuddly when you're angry."
Gino chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another bottle of Gatorade," he quoted.