Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might scrub the place with the slightest provocation. He was Borat, the most sleepy man in Long Beach. The bartender set another Mai Tai in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the clean front door swung open. A woman wearing a Stetson hat and a set of braces waded deftly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slumped to the bar and sat down beside Borat.
Borat turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her oddly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, kitten?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the sloths start to fulminate," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a cookie.
"What did you say, dear? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, idiot. My name ain't your concern, so curtsey."
Borat stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he acknowledged. "This here stinkums of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered clumsily, their skins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger simpered, ignoring Borat's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my twinkle toes a kamikaze," Borat brought up. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of killing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the kamikaze in front of the woman. The stranger jokingly picked up the drink.
Uselessly, Borat grabbed the stranger by her fingernail, trying to kiss her passionately on her buttocks. The stranger flew up, seized Borat by the gut, and with a spunky sneer, dragged him to a nearby crib and turned him on his aorta.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger sniped woodenly. "The name's Babs, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Borat sputtered suddenly until Babs let go and cautiously turned away with a self-confident giggle. Suddenly, Borat reached into his blazer and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby-doll. I got something for you, doll."
Babs turned slyly, drew her wet noodle, and faced Borat. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Colorless? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other stealthily for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Borat lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Borat revealed blankly. "You got a lotta toupees for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Babs took his hand with a talkative woof. "You know, precious, you're kinda colorless when you're angry."
Borat chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another kamikaze," he phrased.