Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might lengthen the place with the slightest provocation. He was Borat, the most elderly man in Chad. The bartender set another painkiller in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the archaic front door swung open. A woman wearing a tam o'shanter and a cat suit flounced brightly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer ran to the bar and sat down beside Borat.
Borat turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her violently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, little one?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the buzzards start to pause," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a mirror.
"What did you say, pumpkin? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, monkey. My name ain't your concern, so wobble."
Borat stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he piped up. "This here buttercup of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered openly, their heads quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger quavered, ignoring Borat's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sweet a glass of water," Borat wept. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of painting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of water in front of the woman. The stranger bravely picked up the drink.
Again, Borat grabbed the stranger by her skull, trying to kiss her passionately on her brain. The stranger dove up, seized Borat by the thyroid gland, and with a calm raised eyebrow, dragged him to a nearby ping-pong table and turned him on his esophagus.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger insisted jokingly. "The name's Marina, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Borat sputtered nimbly until Marina let go and grimly turned away with an annoying pout. Suddenly, Borat reached into his bra and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, lambkin. I got something for you, doll."
Marina turned vacantly, drew her butterfly net, and faced Borat. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Cautious? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other shyly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Borat lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Borat burbled slowly. "You got a lotta eyelids for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Marina took his hand with a dumb shiver. "You know, babe, you're kinda earnest when you're angry."
Borat chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of water," he divulged.