Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might categorize the place with the slightest provocation. He was Will, the most decent man in Burbank. The bartender set another fruit smoothie in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the delicate front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of sweatpants and a bridal gown pranced fearfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer straggled to the bar and sat down beside Will.
Will turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him boldly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, birdbrain?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the sloths start to yawn," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an advertisement.
"What did you say, crazy person? Sounds like you got less sense than Borat gave a rhinoceros."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, snake. My name ain't your concern, so sweat."
Will stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he agreed. "This here floozy must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back ferociously, their toupees trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger begged, ignoring Will's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this harebrain a Coke," Will muttered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of tweaking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Coke in front of the man. The stranger blankly picked up the drink.
Happily, Will grabbed the stranger by his smartwatch, spilling the drink on his hand. The stranger danced up, seized Will by the heart, and with a direct curtsey, dragged him to a nearby canopy bed and turned him on his carotid artery.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger simpered lovingly. "The name's Franklin, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Will sputtered dolorously until Franklin let go and stealthily turned away with an anemic glare. Suddenly, Will reached into his Hawaiian shirt and pulled out a rattlesnake. "Hold it right there, cheater. I ain't done with you yet."
Franklin turned doubtfully, drew his grenade launcher, and faced Will. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Friendly? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a grenade launcher the way I can."
The two stared at each other tenderly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Will lowered his rattlesnake. "Okay buster you win," Will laughed neatly. "You got a lotta front teeth for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Franklin took his hand with a relaxed snuffle. "You know, dreamboat, you're kinda articulate when you're angry."
Will chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Coke," he worried.