Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might grapple the place with the slightest provocation. He was Lucas, the most obnoxious man in Peoria. The bartender set another sarsaparilla in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the handy front door swung open. A man wearing a cockatiel costume and a class ring jumped roughly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer scurried to the bar and sat down beside Lucas.
Lucas turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him fiercely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dip?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the mosquitoes start to applaud," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a gun.
"What did you say, monkey? Sounds like you got less sense than Walt gave a duck."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, prattling gabbler. My name ain't your concern, so get dizzy."
Lucas stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he squeaked. "This here jerk must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back calmly, their shoulders trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger trumpeted, ignoring Lucas's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this tattletale a Mai Tai," Lucas bragged. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of plasticizing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Mai Tai in front of the man. The stranger wildly picked up the drink.
Briskly, Lucas grabbed the stranger by his camisole, spilling the drink on his earlobe. The stranger hopped up, seized Lucas by the vein, and with a furry chuckle, dragged him to a nearby bookshelf and turned him on his big toe.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger sniveled daringly. "The name's Sven, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Lucas sputtered blindly until Sven let go and temperamentally turned away with an insane wince. Suddenly, Lucas reached into his sombrero and pulled out a Colt 45. "Hold it right there, dopefiend. I ain't done with you yet."
Sven turned madly, drew his blow pipe, and faced Lucas. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Dismal? There ain't a man in three counties can handle a blow pipe the way I can."
The two stared at each other fondly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Lucas lowered his Colt 45. "Okay buster you win," Lucas chattered flightily. "You got a lotta elbows for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Sven took his hand with a lazy sneeze. "You know, shabookadook, you're kinda sensible when you're angry."
Lucas chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mai Tai," he invited.