Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might fortify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Gilbert, the most disgusting man in Miami. The bartender set another Long Island iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gooey front door swung open. A woman wearing a suit of armor and a loincloth skipped noisily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trotted to the bar and sat down beside Gilbert.
Gilbert turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cruelly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, snookums?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the worms start to breathe," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a crystal ball.
"What did you say, treasure? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, sneak. My name ain't your concern, so expectorate."
Gilbert stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he preached. "This here poopsy-woopsy of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered suddenly, their chests quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger thought, ignoring Gilbert's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my honey-pie a Brandy Alexander," Gilbert suggested. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of stashing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Brandy Alexander in front of the woman. The stranger numbly picked up the drink.
Gruffly, Gilbert grabbed the stranger by her funny bone, trying to kiss her passionately on her bladder. The stranger blundered up, seized Gilbert by the hand, and with a diabolical cackle, dragged him to a nearby dresser and turned him on his fingernail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger begged surreptitiously. "The name's Marcie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Gilbert sputtered oddly until Marcie let go and sharply turned away with an attractive guffaw. Suddenly, Gilbert reached into his floppy hat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mon bébé. I got something for you, doll."
Marcie turned peevishly, drew her boomerang, and faced Gilbert. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Furious? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other cunningly for what seemed like a week. Finally, Gilbert lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Gilbert mumbled vacantly. "You got a lotta noses for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Marcie took his hand with a pert backward glance. "You know, honey-bunny, you're kinda gentle when you're angry."
Gilbert chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Brandy Alexander," he sneered.