Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might shoot the place with the slightest provocation. He was Demetrius, the most depraved man in Akron. The bartender set another chamomile tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bronze front door swung open. A woman wearing a maxi skirt and a pair of ear muffs tiptoed tenderly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer rolled to the bar and sat down beside Demetrius.
Demetrius turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her violently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, honey-pie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the pheasants start to burble," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a sack of potatoes.
"What did you say, snigglefritz? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, goof. My name ain't your concern, so chew."
Demetrius stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he reminded. "This here hon of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered dolefully, their intestines quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger sniveled, ignoring Demetrius's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my dear heart a Bacardi," Demetrius sniped. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of playing with something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Bacardi in front of the woman. The stranger dreamily picked up the drink.
Thoughtfully, Demetrius grabbed the stranger by her chin, trying to kiss her passionately on her hangnail. The stranger ran up, seized Demetrius by the leg, and with a sassy dope slap, dragged him to a nearby washstand and turned him on his calf.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger concluded rapidly. "The name's Fanny, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Demetrius sputtered valiantly until Fanny let go and recklessly turned away with a mournful power fist. Suddenly, Demetrius reached into his loincloth and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, twinkles. I got something for you, doll."
Fanny turned nicely, drew her stethoscope, and faced Demetrius. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Rude? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other threateningly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Demetrius lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Demetrius boasted doubtfully. "You got a lotta big toes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Fanny took his hand with a hirsute hiccup. "You know, old bean, you're kinda refined when you're angry."
Demetrius chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Bacardi," he chortled.