Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might rattle the place with the slightest provocation. He was Ben, the most obnoxious man in Anchorage. The bartender set another soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the tiny front door swung open. A man wearing a coat and a cap tore greedily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tore to the bar and sat down beside Ben.
Ben turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him haughtily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, hellhound?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bunnies start to sleep," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bullet.
"What did you say, culprit? Sounds like you got less sense than Joseph gave a tapeworm."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, beast. My name ain't your concern, so squint."
Ben stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he sneered. "This here dolt must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back deftly, their foreheads trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger chimed, ignoring Ben's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this moonie a daiquiri," Ben exploded. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of lengthening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the daiquiri in front of the man. The stranger grandly picked up the drink.
Intensely, Ben grabbed the stranger by his garland, spilling the drink on his stomach. The stranger pranced up, seized Ben by the spine, and with a phlegmatic wrinkled nose, dragged him to a nearby buffet and turned him on his pituitary gland.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger implored accidentally. "The name's Antonio, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Ben sputtered defiantly until Antonio let go and vacantly turned away with a contented chuckle. Suddenly, Ben reached into his diamond bracelet and pulled out a battle axe. "Hold it right there, brute. I ain't done with you yet."
Antonio turned charmingly, drew his set of nunchucks, and faced Ben. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Radiant? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a set of nunchucks the way I can."
The two stared at each other surreptitiously for what seemed like a month. Finally, Ben lowered his battle axe. "Okay buster you win," Ben spoke up numbly. "You got a lotta arms for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Antonio took his hand with a yappy raised eyebrow. "You know, little chickadee, you're kinda gentle when you're angry."
Ben chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another daiquiri," he blustered.