Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hammer the place with the slightest provocation. He was Wallace, the most brassy man in Springfield. The bartender set another Sangría in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the sophisticated front door swung open. A woman wearing a bikini and a bikini tumbled awkwardly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer loped to the bar and sat down beside Wallace.
Wallace turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her angrily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, honey-babe?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hogs start to snuffle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a cream puff.
"What did you say, lover? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, lamebrain. My name ain't your concern, so get dizzy."
Wallace stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he contended. "This here kitten of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered trustingly, their mouths quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger pointed out, ignoring Wallace's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my bud a chamomile tea," Wallace giggled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of moistening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the chamomile tea in front of the woman. The stranger sourly picked up the drink.
Perkily, Wallace grabbed the stranger by her head, trying to kiss her passionately on her heel. The stranger went up, seized Wallace by the brain, and with a pigeon-toed curtsey, dragged him to a nearby floor and turned him on his belly button.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger professed openly. "The name's Tracy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Wallace sputtered deliberately until Tracy let go and positively turned away with a heavyset fist bump. Suddenly, Wallace reached into his pair of dungarees and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mi amor. I got something for you, doll."
Tracy turned sternly, drew her can of pepper spray, and faced Wallace. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Repulsive? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other hopefully for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Wallace lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Wallace shouted charmingly. "You got a lotta bladders for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tracy took his hand with a selfish growl. "You know, mopsy, you're kinda enthusiastic when you're angry."
Wallace chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another chamomile tea," he griped.