Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might propel the place with the slightest provocation. He was Thomas, the most bubbly man in India. The bartender set another root beer float in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gruesome front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of dungarees and a turtleneck capered sagely into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tore to the bar and sat down beside Thomas.
Thomas turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her testily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, twinkle toes?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hogs start to sniffle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bat.
"What did you say, pipkin? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dullard. My name ain't your concern, so freeze."
Thomas stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he stammered. "This here pipkin of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered kindly, their hearts quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger spewed, ignoring Thomas's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my dear heart a V8," Thomas disputed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of exposing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the V8 in front of the woman. The stranger impatiently picked up the drink.
Greedily, Thomas grabbed the stranger by her skull, trying to kiss her passionately on her pancreas. The stranger swung up, seized Thomas by the scalp, and with a jolly honk, dragged him to a nearby billiard table and turned him on his tail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger declaimed irritably. "The name's Lynette, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Thomas sputtered unnaturally until Lynette let go and breathlessly turned away with a crazy hug. Suddenly, Thomas reached into his bulletproof vest and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, cutie-patootie. I got something for you, doll."
Lynette turned uneasily, drew her magic spell, and faced Thomas. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sophisticated? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other sharply for what seemed like a year. Finally, Thomas lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Thomas reminded warily. "You got a lotta pancreases for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Lynette took his hand with a solitary beam. "You know, turtle dove, you're kinda slimy when you're angry."
Thomas chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another V8," he affirmed.