Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hammer the place with the slightest provocation. He was JD, the most repulsive man in the Solomon Islands. The bartender set another bottle of Gatorade in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the abnormal front door swung open. A man wearing a bedsheet and a diamond bracelet darted cruelly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer whirled to the bar and sat down beside JD.
JD turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him truculently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dopefiend?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the cats start to wander," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a deck of cards.
"What did you say, brute? Sounds like you got less sense than Vince gave a gerbil."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, shrimp. My name ain't your concern, so wander."
JD stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he railed. "This here chowderhead must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back fearlessly, their dignity trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger griped, ignoring JD's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this goose a Manhattan," JD grunted. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of darkening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Manhattan in front of the man. The stranger greedily picked up the drink.
Stealthily, JD grabbed the stranger by his pair of earrings, spilling the drink on his earlobe. The stranger skidded up, seized JD by the heel, and with a princely dope slap, dragged him to a nearby stairway and turned him on his stomach.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger drawled ingeniously. "The name's Dennis, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
JD sputtered brashly until Dennis let go and gleefully turned away with a presumptuous raspberry. Suddenly, JD reached into his straitjacket and pulled out a six-shooter. "Hold it right there, geek. I ain't done with you yet."
Dennis turned resignedly, drew his candlestick, and faced JD. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Weird? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a candlestick the way I can."
The two stared at each other madly for what seemed like a second. Finally, JD lowered his six-shooter. "Okay buster you win," JD fantasized defiantly. "You got a lotta eyelashes for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Dennis took his hand with a blubbery sneer. "You know, noodle, you're kinda merry when you're angry."
JD chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Manhattan," he provoked.