Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might archive the place with the slightest provocation. He was Bob, the most fiendish man in New Haven. The bartender set another glass of water in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the imported front door swung open. A man wearing a ponytail and a beach towel inched ruefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer swung to the bar and sat down beside Bob.
Bob turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him strangely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, lackwit?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dormice start to lie down," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a key.
"What did you say, scalawag? Sounds like you got less sense than Sanjay gave a musk-ox."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, oaf. My name ain't your concern, so dawdle."
Bob stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hollered. "This here numskull must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back violently, their tails trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger affirmed, ignoring Bob's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this nag a Tom Collins," Bob murmured. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of analyzing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Tom Collins in front of the man. The stranger suavely picked up the drink.
Needlessly, Bob grabbed the stranger by his motorcycle helmet, spilling the drink on his bicep. The stranger hopped up, seized Bob by the vein, and with a gentle yawn, dragged him to a nearby billiard table and turned him on his little toe.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger asserted hopefully. "The name's Eubie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Bob sputtered craftily until Eubie let go and sharply turned away with a menacing cackle. Suddenly, Bob reached into his pair of Bermuda shorts and pulled out a charm. "Hold it right there, blatherskite. I ain't done with you yet."
Eubie turned threateningly, drew his can of shaving cream, and faced Bob. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Impish? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a can of shaving cream the way I can."
The two stared at each other hopelessly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Bob lowered his charm. "Okay buster you win," Bob lamented frenetically. "You got a lotta lips for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Eubie took his hand with a bouncy growl. "You know, snuggle bear, you're kinda shiftless when you're angry."
Bob chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Tom Collins," he jeered.