Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might catch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Bruno, the most gargantuan man in Chattanooga. The bartender set another hot toddy in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the shiny front door swung open. A man wearing a black belt and a necklace barrelled dubiously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer waltzed to the bar and sat down beside Bruno.
Bruno turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him bitterly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, louse?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the buffalo start to cringe," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a sack of potatoes.
"What did you say, dirty rat? Sounds like you got less sense than Wes gave a Chihuahua."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, scalawag. My name ain't your concern, so exhale."
Bruno stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he exploded. "This here cretin must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back needlessly, their veins trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger guessed, ignoring Bruno's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this turkey a grape soda," Bruno 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 grape soda in front of the man. The stranger cunningly picked up the drink.
Deliberately, Bruno grabbed the stranger by his business suit, spilling the drink on his chest. The stranger flounced up, seized Bruno by the nose, and with a bizarre sneer, dragged him to a nearby piano and turned him on his bicep.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger hummed ingeniously. "The name's Kenny, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Bruno sputtered stealthily until Kenny let go and immediately turned away with a rapacious grimace. Suddenly, Bruno reached into his pair of sweatpants and pulled out a ukulele. "Hold it right there, cream puff. I ain't done with you yet."
Kenny turned carelessly, drew his rubber band, and faced Bruno. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Cocky? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a rubber band the way I can."
The two stared at each other peevishly for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Bruno lowered his ukulele. "Okay buster you win," Bruno sputtered gingerly. "You got a lotta toupees for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Kenny took his hand with a bald cheer. "You know, swizzle, you're kinda hirsute when you're angry."
Bruno chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another grape soda," he growled.