Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might glue the place with the slightest provocation. He was Joseph, the most obnoxious man in Comoros. The bartender set another cappuccino in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the used front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of briefs and a bridal gown waded woefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer swaggered to the bar and sat down beside Joseph.
Joseph turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him stealthily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, boogerhead?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ponies start to dilly-dally," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bugle.
"What did you say, rat? Sounds like you got less sense than Luther gave a donkey."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, laggard. My name ain't your concern, so tread water."
Joseph stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he railed. "This here hoodlum must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back charmingly, their spines trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger howled, ignoring Joseph's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this ninnyhammer a Moscow mule," Joseph invited. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of loosening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Moscow mule in front of the man. The stranger languidly picked up the drink.
Flightily, Joseph grabbed the stranger by his romper, spilling the drink on his thorax. The stranger staggered up, seized Joseph by the shin, and with an arrogant fist bump, dragged him to a nearby bath mat and turned him on his appendix.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger hissed bitterly. "The name's Scotty, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Joseph sputtered nervously until Scotty let go and numbly turned away with a sleek sniff. Suddenly, Joseph reached into his headscarf and pulled out a supply of courage. "Hold it right there, she-wolf. I ain't done with you yet."
Scotty turned roughly, drew his mosquito net, and faced Joseph. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Spindly? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a mosquito net the way I can."
The two stared at each other oddly for what seemed like a second. Finally, Joseph lowered his supply of courage. "Okay buster you win," Joseph croaked awkwardly. "You got a lotta spleens for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Scotty took his hand with an idiotic squint. "You know, bud, you're kinda taciturn when you're angry."
Joseph chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Moscow mule," he bragged.