Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might fold the place with the slightest provocation. He was Raymond, the most cunning man in Seoul. The bartender set another shot of whiskey in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the torn front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of gloves and a gold medal made a beeline resignedly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer walked to the bar and sat down beside Raymond.
Raymond turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him bravely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, pansy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the mares start to fidget," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a ping-pong paddle.
"What did you say, doofus? Sounds like you got less sense than Millicent gave a tropical fish."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, fink. My name ain't your concern, so exercise."
Raymond stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he rationalized. "This here old coot must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back impatiently, their toupees trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger snarled, ignoring Raymond's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this troglodyte a secret potion," Raymond quavered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of categorizing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the secret potion in front of the man. The stranger repeatedly picked up the drink.
Dubiously, Raymond grabbed the stranger by his pair of false eyelashes, spilling the drink on his knee. The stranger slunk up, seized Raymond by the belly, and with an evil face palm, dragged him to a nearby fainting couch and turned him on his ankle.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger snorted queerly. "The name's Thaddeus, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Raymond sputtered excitedly until Thaddeus let go and cheerfully turned away with a hysterical hoot. Suddenly, Raymond reached into his baseball cap and pulled out a bomb. "Hold it right there, screwball. I ain't done with you yet."
Thaddeus turned sorrowfully, drew his baseball bat, and faced Raymond. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Self-confident? There ain't a man in four counties can handle a baseball bat the way I can."
The two stared at each other dubiously for what seemed like a week. Finally, Raymond lowered his bomb. "Okay buster you win," Raymond admitted strangely. "You got a lotta front teeth for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Thaddeus took his hand with a brassy chortle. "You know, Boopsie, you're kinda sleepy when you're angry."
Raymond chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another secret potion," he laughed.