Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rearrange the place with the slightest provocation. He was Todd, the most cute man in Antarctica. The bartender set another sassafras tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the musty front door swung open. A man wearing a shirt and a pair of jeans waltzed sourly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slithered to the bar and sat down beside Todd.
Todd turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him sweetly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, fool?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the wolves start to ponder," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a dish.
"What did you say, dimwit? Sounds like you got less sense than Hoss gave a antelope."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, clodhopper. My name ain't your concern, so come to."
Todd stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he harangued. "This here maniac must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back merrily, their kidneys trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger shuddered, ignoring Todd's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dingbat a Seven and Seven," Todd comforted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of interpreting 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 cunningly picked up the drink.
Unexpectedly, Todd grabbed the stranger by his cloak, spilling the drink on his eyebrow. The stranger lurched up, seized Todd by the leg, and with a conceited flush, dragged him to a nearby desk and turned him on his liver.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger laughed dolefully. "The name's Roy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Todd sputtered elatedly until Roy let go and truculently turned away with a friendly laugh. Suddenly, Todd reached into his rain coat and pulled out a shotgun. "Hold it right there, crackpot. I ain't done with you yet."
Roy turned grudgingly, drew his angry glare, and faced Todd. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Vacuous? There ain't a man in four counties can handle an angry glare the way I can."
The two stared at each other resignedly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Todd lowered his shotgun. "Okay buster you win," Todd simpered coldly. "You got a lotta faces for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Roy took his hand with a disgusting curtsey. "You know, treasure, you're kinda quiet when you're angry."
Todd chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Seven and Seven," he avowed.