Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rearrange the place with the slightest provocation. He was Lucas, the most fascinating man in Greece. The bartender set another gin fizz in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gruesome front door swung open. A man wearing a kilt and a dunce cap traipsed clumsily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer hobbled to the bar and sat down beside Lucas.
Lucas turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him merrily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bonehead?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the donkeys start to growl," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bird feeder.
"What did you say, nut? Sounds like you got less sense than Craig gave a bumblebee."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, gump. My name ain't your concern, so wobble."
Lucas stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he taunted. "This here barbarian must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back courteously, their stomachs trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger announced, ignoring Lucas's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this baby a sassafras tea," Lucas vowed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of returning something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the sassafras tea in front of the man. The stranger confidently picked up the drink.
Gingerly, Lucas grabbed the stranger by his body shirt, spilling the drink on his hangnail. The stranger slunk up, seized Lucas by the hair, and with a high-strung power fist, dragged him to a nearby stairway and turned him on his face.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger hollered crankily. "The name's Kyle, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Lucas sputtered perkily until Kyle let go and frantically turned away with an idiotic cringe. Suddenly, Lucas reached into his wristwatch and pulled out a bayonette. "Hold it right there, doofus. I ain't done with you yet."
Kyle turned hysterically, drew his revolver, and faced Lucas. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Dumb? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a revolver the way I can."
The two stared at each other woodenly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Lucas lowered his bayonette. "Okay buster you win," Lucas smiled delicately. "You got a lotta foreheads for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Kyle took his hand with a powerful shrug. "You know, dearest, you're kinda phlegmatic when you're angry."
Lucas chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another sassafras tea," he hissed.