Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might punch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Xavier, the most monstrous man in Fort Worth. The bartender set another cup of Sanka in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fluffy front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of flip-flops and a beaver costume galloped ferociously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slithered to the bar and sat down beside Xavier.
Xavier turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him later. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, cream puff?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hornets start to think," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a hockey puck.
"What did you say, mush-for-brains? Sounds like you got less sense than Maloney gave a elk."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, numskull. My name ain't your concern, so inhale."
Xavier stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he acknowledged. "This here monkey must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back strictly, their wigs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger affirmed, ignoring Xavier's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this beast a gin sour," Xavier prattled. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of dressing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gin sour in front of the man. The stranger gingerly picked up the drink.
Deftly, Xavier grabbed the stranger by his letter jacket, spilling the drink on his paw. The stranger tore up, seized Xavier by the pinky, and with a cheerful titter, dragged him to a nearby mattress and turned him on his skull.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger lamented innocently. "The name's Nathaniel, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Xavier sputtered kindly until Nathaniel let go and energetically turned away with a gentle hoot. Suddenly, Xavier reached into his pair of galoshes and pulled out a can of spray paint. "Hold it right there, 'noying. I ain't done with you yet."
Nathaniel turned unnaturally, drew his whip, and faced Xavier. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Eccentric? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a whip the way I can."
The two stared at each other cleverly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Xavier lowered his can of spray paint. "Okay buster you win," Xavier wailed demurely. "You got a lotta funny bones for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Nathaniel took his hand with a careful belch. "You know, swizzle, you're kinda direct when you're angry."
Xavier chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gin sour," he sniffed.