Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might overturn the place with the slightest provocation. He was Frank, the most artistic man in the Amazon. The bartender set another 7-Up in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the frilly front door swung open. A woman wearing a bomber jacket and a beanie scampered dolorously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer loped to the bar and sat down beside Frank.
Frank turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her languidly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, little chickadee?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bumblebees start to barf," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an arrowhead.
"What did you say, little blossom? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, simpleton. My name ain't your concern, so buzz."
Frank stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he exploded. "This here mon bébé of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered diligently, their ears quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger chuckled, ignoring Frank's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sweet pea a cup of Sanka," Frank yowled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of dressing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of Sanka in front of the woman. The stranger daintily picked up the drink.
Defiantly, Frank grabbed the stranger by her jaw, trying to kiss her passionately on her toenail. The stranger swung up, seized Frank by the pinky, and with a spunky grunt, dragged him to a nearby hatstand and turned him on his adrenal gland.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger informed smoothly. "The name's Brittany, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Frank sputtered cautiously until Brittany let go and urgently turned away with a menacing roar. Suddenly, Frank reached into his pair of overalls and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, little chickadee. I got something for you, doll."
Brittany turned nonchalantly, drew her pom-pom, and faced Frank. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Hungry? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other defiantly for what seemed like a blink of an eye. Finally, Frank lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Frank scoffed courteously. "You got a lotta appendixes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Brittany took his hand with a bouncy flutter. "You know, starlight, you're kinda direct when you're angry."
Frank chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of Sanka," he gabbed.