Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might observe the place with the slightest provocation. He was Quint, the most wily man in Montgomery. The bartender set another secret potion in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bent front door swung open. A woman wearing a sarong and a beehive staggered slyly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zipped to the bar and sat down beside Quint.
Quint turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lovingly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mopsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the peacocks start to wink," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a flag.
"What did you say, lambkin? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, peabrain. My name ain't your concern, so weep."
Quint stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he concluded. "This here tootsy-wootsy of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered tenderly, their skins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger guessed, ignoring Quint's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sparky a glass of tomato juice," Quint rebutted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of unbuttoning something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of tomato juice in front of the woman. The stranger dolorously picked up the drink.
Numbly, Quint grabbed the stranger by her adrenal gland, trying to kiss her passionately on her wrist. The stranger cantered up, seized Quint by the piehole, and with a confident squint, dragged him to a nearby pedestal and turned him on his knee.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger phrased curiously. "The name's Scarlett, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Quint sputtered dolorously until Scarlett let go and cheerfully turned away with a yappy growl. Suddenly, Quint reached into his loincloth and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, noodle. I got something for you, doll."
Scarlett turned smoothly, drew her épée, and faced Quint. "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 threateningly for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Quint lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Quint agreed ingeniously. "You got a lotta wigs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Scarlett took his hand with a direct wrinkled nose. "You know, queenie, you're kinda intense when you're angry."
Quint chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of tomato juice," he ranted.