Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rebuild the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rumpelstiltskin, the most phlegmatic man in Berlin. The bartender set another cappuccino in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the magnificent front door swung open. A woman wearing a floppy hat and a nose ring slid again into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zipped to the bar and sat down beside Rumpelstiltskin.
Rumpelstiltskin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, light of my life?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ducks start to run away," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a flute.
"What did you say, darling? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, clodhopper. My name ain't your concern, so relax."
Rumpelstiltskin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he sputtered. "This here buddy of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered impatiently, their horns quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger professed, ignoring Rumpelstiltskin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my hon a milkshake," Rumpelstiltskin pleaded. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of re-evaluating something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the milkshake in front of the woman. The stranger woodenly picked up the drink.
Glibly, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed the stranger by her beard, trying to kiss her passionately on her belly. The stranger tramped up, seized Rumpelstiltskin by the adrenal gland, and with an emotional flutter, dragged him to a nearby pool table and turned him on his hangnail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger stammered bitterly. "The name's Oona, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rumpelstiltskin sputtered joyously until Oona let go and gleefully turned away with a sincere cringe. Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin reached into his pair of glasses and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, dearie. I got something for you, doll."
Oona turned coolly, drew her épée, and faced Rumpelstiltskin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Ambitious? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other delicately for what seemed like a year. Finally, Rumpelstiltskin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Rumpelstiltskin squeaked lickety-split. "You got a lotta dignity for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Oona took his hand with a stubborn sniffle. "You know, baby-doll, you're kinda prissy when you're angry."
Rumpelstiltskin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another milkshake," he mouthed.