Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might catch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Dirk, the most desperate man in Jersey City. The bartender set another painkiller in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the large front door swung open. A man wearing a nightgown and a tank top zoomed fearfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer paraded to the bar and sat down beside Dirk.
Dirk turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him slyly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, fathead?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ducks start to vomit," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a smart phone.
"What did you say, old biddy? Sounds like you got less sense than Christian gave a bat."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, maniac. My name ain't your concern, so growl."
Dirk stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he griped. "This here coward must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back happily, their eyelashes trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger enunciated, ignoring Dirk's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this maniac a cup of cocoa," Dirk yammered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of pummeling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of cocoa in front of the man. The stranger charmingly picked up the drink.
Thoughtfully, Dirk grabbed the stranger by his set of braces, spilling the drink on his wig. The stranger sped up, seized Dirk by the thigh, and with an obnoxious shout, dragged him to a nearby file cabinet and turned him on his toenail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger shouted lazily. "The name's Joe, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Dirk sputtered fiercely until Joe let go and irritably turned away with a rapacious smirk. Suddenly, Dirk reached into his wedding dress and pulled out a catheter. "Hold it right there, sap. I ain't done with you yet."
Joe turned sheepishly, drew his syringe, and faced Dirk. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Crafty? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a syringe the way I can."
The two stared at each other cheerfully for what seemed like a month. Finally, Dirk lowered his catheter. "Okay buster you win," Dirk exploded defiantly. "You got a lotta bladders for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Joe took his hand with a wily shiver. "You know, bumbles, you're kinda clever when you're angry."
Dirk chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of cocoa," he blurted.