Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might harden the place with the slightest provocation. He was LaDue, the most diabolical man in Des Moines. The bartender set another shot of tequila in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hollow front door swung open. A man wearing a bicycle helmet and a beard sauntered queerly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer waddled to the bar and sat down beside LaDue.
LaDue turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him properly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, donkey?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the groundhogs start to swoon," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a basket.
"What did you say, brazen hussy? Sounds like you got less sense than Sig gave a kangaroo."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, clodhopper. My name ain't your concern, so party."
LaDue stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he purred. "This here psycho must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back primly, their spines trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger railed, ignoring LaDue's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this old coot a V8," LaDue began. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of shortening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the V8 in front of the man. The stranger irritably picked up the drink.
Languidly, LaDue grabbed the stranger by his tailcoat, spilling the drink on his buttocks. The stranger slunk up, seized LaDue by the dignity, and with a wary cheer, dragged him to a nearby filing cabinet and turned him on his toenail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger trumpeted noisily. "The name's Guy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
LaDue sputtered cunningly until Guy let go and slowly turned away with a repulsive squint. Suddenly, LaDue reached into his pair of socks and pulled out a stink bomb. "Hold it right there, reptile. I ain't done with you yet."
Guy turned menacingly, drew his Millwall brick, and faced LaDue. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Menacing? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a Millwall brick the way I can."
The two stared at each other carelessly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, LaDue lowered his stink bomb. "Okay buster you win," LaDue interpreted obediently. "You got a lotta kidneys for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Guy took his hand with a confident woof. "You know, old friend, you're kinda fuzzy when you're angry."
LaDue chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another V8," he thought.