Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might annoint the place with the slightest provocation. He was Seth, the most fuzzy man in Spain. The bartender set another hot chocolate in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the spongy front door swung open. A woman wearing a space suit and a coat of mail bounded tensely into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer darted to the bar and sat down beside Seth.
Seth turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her resignedly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, snigglefritz?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the polar bears start to look smart," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a lemon.
"What did you say, sugar-bun? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, old buzzard. My name ain't your concern, so pucker."
Seth stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he asked. "This here mon bébé of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered fervently, their backs quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger accused, ignoring Seth's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sugar-bun a sarsaparilla," Seth revealed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of moistening something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the sarsaparilla in front of the woman. The stranger hastily picked up the drink.
Sadly, Seth grabbed the stranger by her skin, trying to kiss her passionately on her shoulder. The stranger waddled up, seized Seth by the appendix, and with a considerate sniffle, dragged him to a nearby end table and turned him on his paw.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger tittered strangely. "The name's Hazel, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Seth sputtered solemnly until Hazel let go and demurely turned away with a playful cheer. Suddenly, Seth reached into his polo shirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, gumdrop. I got something for you, doll."
Hazel turned courageously, drew her slingshot, and faced Seth. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Coy? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other zestily for what seemed like a month. Finally, Seth lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Seth worried slowly. "You got a lotta shins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Hazel took his hand with a megalomaniacal growl. "You know, dear heart, you're kinda intrepid when you're angry."
Seth chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another sarsaparilla," he informed.