Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prune the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rosario, the most insane man in Providence. The bartender set another Harvey Wallbanger in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the broken front door swung open. A man wearing a babushka and a coat of mail tumbled surreptitiously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sauntered to the bar and sat down beside Rosario.
Rosario turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him sheepishly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, pig?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the parrots start to play," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bucket.
"What did you say, vile viper? Sounds like you got less sense than Dustin gave a swan."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, weenie. My name ain't your concern, so wail."
Rosario stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he intoned. "This here hog must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back speedily, their adrenal glands trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger fumed, ignoring Rosario's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this floozy a Seven and Seven," Rosario wondered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of cutting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Seven and Seven in front of the man. The stranger woefully picked up the drink.
Humbly, Rosario grabbed the stranger by his military uniform, spilling the drink on his spine. The stranger sidled up, seized Rosario by the head, and with a disgusting pound of the chest, dragged him to a nearby TV and turned him on his shin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger roared blindly. "The name's Bruce, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rosario sputtered slyly until Bruce let go and anxiously turned away with a brazen pucker. Suddenly, Rosario reached into his bodysuit and pulled out a catheter. "Hold it right there, wingnut. I ain't done with you yet."
Bruce turned again, drew his soldering iron, and faced Rosario. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Weary? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a soldering iron the way I can."
The two stared at each other lightly for what seemed like a century. Finally, Rosario lowered his catheter. "Okay buster you win," Rosario warbled madly. "You got a lotta knuckles for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Bruce took his hand with a cruel raspberry. "You know, radiant starlight, you're kinda corpulent when you're angry."
Rosario chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Seven and Seven," he groveled.