Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might forget the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rich, the most dreadful man in Bangalore. The bartender set another Mojito in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the porcelain front door swung open. A man wearing a bikini and a Speedo hopped blindly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slid to the bar and sat down beside Rich.
Rich turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him defiantly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, nut?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the canaries start to sigh," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a hammer.
"What did you say, fool? Sounds like you got less sense than Norm gave a parrot."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, pig. My name ain't your concern, so flinch."
Rich stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he thought. "This here slacker must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back truculently, their chins trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger wondered, ignoring Rich's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dummy a root beer float," Rich sobbed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of pushing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the root beer float in front of the man. The stranger excitedly picked up the drink.
Menacingly, Rich grabbed the stranger by his denim skirt, spilling the drink on his lip. The stranger staggered up, seized Rich by the hoof, and with a bouncy shout, dragged him to a nearby coat rack and turned him on his stomach.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger disputed positively. "The name's Shane, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rich sputtered tensely until Shane let go and curiously turned away with a prickly shiver. Suddenly, Rich reached into his babushka and pulled out a rattlesnake. "Hold it right there, moron. I ain't done with you yet."
Shane turned carefully, drew his slingshot, and faced Rich. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Emotional? There ain't a man in five counties can handle a slingshot the way I can."
The two stared at each other majestically for what seemed like a week. Finally, Rich lowered his rattlesnake. "Okay buster you win," Rich insisted proudly. "You got a lotta dignity for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Shane took his hand with a jaunty sneer. "You know, gumdrop, you're kinda brazen when you're angry."
Rich chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another root beer float," he sobbed.