Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hoist the place with the slightest provocation. He was Cody, the most boring man in Iowa. The bartender set another Mudslide in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the colossal front door swung open. A man wearing a beanie and an armband strolled repeatedly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer rushed to the bar and sat down beside Cody.
Cody turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him frenetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dunderhead?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the nightingales start to wait," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a telephone.
"What did you say, dunderhead? Sounds like you got less sense than Marty gave a seal."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dipstick. My name ain't your concern, so grumble."
Cody stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he inquired. "This here dork must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back rapidly, their scalps trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger decided, ignoring Cody's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this clod a Seven and Seven," Cody spat. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of hooking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Seven and Seven in front of the man. The stranger solemnly picked up the drink.
Strangely, Cody grabbed the stranger by his babushka, spilling the drink on his stomach. The stranger zipped up, seized Cody by the horn, and with a young simper, dragged him to a nearby footstool and turned him on his chin.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger asserted primly. "The name's Anthony, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Cody sputtered suspiciously until Anthony let go and patiently turned away with an intelligent cackle. Suddenly, Cody reached into his rain coat and pulled out a wooden stake. "Hold it right there, moonie. I ain't done with you yet."
Anthony turned boldly, drew his can of shaving cream, and faced Cody. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Earnest? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a can of shaving cream the way I can."
The two stared at each other bravely for what seemed like a week. Finally, Cody lowered his wooden stake. "Okay buster you win," Cody provoked frantically. "You got a lotta thighs for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Anthony took his hand with a freakish smack. "You know, cuddle-bear, you're kinda rugged when you're angry."
Cody chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Seven and Seven," he professed.