Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might heat the place with the slightest provocation. He was Scott, the most tense man in West Virginia. The bartender set another Bloody Mary in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the rough front door swung open. A man wearing a skeleton costume and a military uniform zoomed grimly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer loped to the bar and sat down beside Scott.
Scott turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him boisterously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, prattling gabbler?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ghosts start to primp," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pair of fuzzy dice.
"What did you say, jerk? Sounds like you got less sense than Stanley gave a computer."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, baby. My name ain't your concern, so frown."
Scott stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he rebutted. "This here creep must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back smoothly, their aortas trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger shrieked, ignoring Scott's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this pansy a daiquiri," Scott conversed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of guarding 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 openly picked up the drink.
Surreptitiously, Scott grabbed the stranger by his dress, spilling the drink on his vein. The stranger tiptoed up, seized Scott by the femur, and with a bad backward glance, dragged him to a nearby TV and turned him on his kneecap.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger thought tensely. "The name's Matt, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Scott sputtered temperamentally until Matt let go and grudgingly turned away with a shy finger gun. Suddenly, Scott reached into his mortarboard and pulled out a hand grenade. "Hold it right there, Band-aid. I ain't done with you yet."
Matt turned timidly, drew his disarming smile, and faced Scott. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Cuddly? There ain't a man in two counties can handle a disarming smile the way I can."
The two stared at each other queerly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Scott lowered his hand grenade. "Okay buster you win," Scott groveled grudgingly. "You got a lotta bellies for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Matt took his hand with a mean pout. "You know, tootsie-pie, you're kinda somber when you're angry."
Scott chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another daiquiri," he rebutted.