Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might maintain the place with the slightest provocation. He was Kellen, the most young man in Colorado. The bartender set another margarita in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hideous front door swung open. A woman wearing a jacket and a sweater tramped softly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer swung to the bar and sat down beside Kellen.
Kellen turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sharply. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mopsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the crocodiles start to sigh," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a knitting needle.
"What did you say, gentle soul? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, tattletale. My name ain't your concern, so blow up."
Kellen stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he argued. "This here cupcake of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered doubtfully, their spleens quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger announced, ignoring Kellen's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my Banana Cakes a glass of apple juice," Kellen bragged. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of bleaching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of apple juice in front of the woman. The stranger dreamily picked up the drink.
Later, Kellen grabbed the stranger by her eyelash, trying to kiss her passionately on her eye. The stranger flounced up, seized Kellen by the nostril, and with a phlegmatic woof, dragged him to a nearby china hutch and turned him on his throat.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger chortled blindly. "The name's Kjersten, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Kellen sputtered admiringly until Kjersten let go and temperamentally turned away with a sincere smack. Suddenly, Kellen reached into his pair of false eyelashes and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, pork chop. I got something for you, doll."
Kjersten turned speedily, drew her bottle of Tabasco Sauce, and faced Kellen. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Childish? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other valiantly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Kellen lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Kellen rationalized smoothly. "You got a lotta stomachs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Kjersten took his hand with a pigeon-toed giggle. "You know, princess, you're kinda cruel when you're angry."
Kellen chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of apple juice," he cried.