Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might paint the place with the slightest provocation. He was Edmond, the most anemic man in Nauru. The bartender set another Scotch and soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the electric front door swung open. A woman wearing a kimono and a pair of nylons crawled shyly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Edmond.
Edmond turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her positively. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, Pinky?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the Dalmatians start to get dizzy," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a muffin.
"What did you say, mi amor? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, cretin. My name ain't your concern, so faint."
Edmond stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hinted. "This here snookums of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered cautiously, their arms quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger shouted, ignoring Edmond's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cutie-patootie a bottle of water," Edmond provoked. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of shellacking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the bottle of water in front of the woman. The stranger sheepishly picked up the drink.
Elatedly, Edmond grabbed the stranger by her beard, trying to kiss her passionately on her buttocks. The stranger hopped up, seized Edmond by the eyebrow, and with a deadly caress, dragged him to a nearby hatstand and turned him on his tongue.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger begged furiously. "The name's Sydney, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Edmond sputtered bravely until Sydney let go and hopefully turned away with a muscular cringe. Suddenly, Edmond reached into his dress and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mon chéri. I got something for you, doll."
Sydney turned fiercely, drew her wooden stake, and faced Edmond. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fashionable? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other perkily for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Edmond lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Edmond called boisterously. "You got a lotta fingers for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Sydney took his hand with a heavyset caress. "You know, honey, you're kinda noxious when you're angry."
Edmond chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another bottle of water," he groveled.