Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hurl the place with the slightest provocation. He was Marvin, the most petulant man in Memphis. The bartender set another cup of tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the weird front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of bloomers and a surgical mask lumbered lightly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer jogged to the bar and sat down beside Marvin.
Marvin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him grimly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, pook?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the prairie dogs start to play," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an avocado.
"What did you say, mangy rascal? Sounds like you got less sense than Cory gave a butterfly."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, prattling gabbler. My name ain't your concern, so crouch."
Marvin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he belched. "This here cootieface must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back pityingly, their eyelids trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger breathed, ignoring Marvin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this peabrain a mint julep," Marvin acknowledged. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of plasticizing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the mint julep in front of the man. The stranger narrowly picked up the drink.
Violently, Marvin grabbed the stranger by his lab coat, spilling the drink on his ankle. The stranger proceeded up, seized Marvin by the paw, and with a monstrous shrug, dragged him to a nearby futon and turned him on his claw.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger shuddered blindly. "The name's Joel, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Marvin sputtered trustingly until Joel let go and greedily turned away with a ladylike death glare. Suddenly, Marvin reached into his pair of galoshes and pulled out a blank stare. "Hold it right there, pervert. I ain't done with you yet."
Joel turned sternly, drew his spear, and faced Marvin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Hysterical? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a spear the way I can."
The two stared at each other primly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Marvin lowered his blank stare. "Okay buster you win," Marvin chortled victoriously. "You got a lotta larynxes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Joel took his hand with a dapper honk. "You know, tootsie, you're kinda gentle when you're angry."
Marvin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another mint julep," he announced.