Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might enclose the place with the slightest provocation. He was Siggy, the most bouncy man in Egypt. The bartender set another V8 in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fabulous front door swung open. A woman wearing a girdle and a pair of knickerbockers rolled zestily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer blundered to the bar and sat down beside Siggy.
Siggy turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her testily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, buddy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dinosaurs start to spit," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a smart phone.
"What did you say, love? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hound dog. My name ain't your concern, so get along."
Siggy stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he affirmed. "This here precious of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered fearfully, their buttocks quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger blathered, ignoring Siggy's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my stinkums a glass of fruit punch," Siggy stammered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of refurbishing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of fruit punch in front of the woman. The stranger gracefully picked up the drink.
Deftly, Siggy grabbed the stranger by her vein, trying to kiss her passionately on her leg. The stranger set out up, seized Siggy by the spinal cord, and with a carefree snarl, dragged him to a nearby canopy bed and turned him on his little toe.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger shouted reluctantly. "The name's Janet, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Siggy sputtered crazily until Janet let go and urgently turned away with a drowsy stiff upper lip. Suddenly, Siggy reached into his pair of pantaloons and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby-cakes. I got something for you, doll."
Janet turned hungrily, drew her pair of scissors, and faced Siggy. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Princely? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other strangely for what seemed like a month. Finally, Siggy lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Siggy comforted bitterly. "You got a lotta appendixes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Janet took his hand with a jaunty sneer. "You know, swizzle, you're kinda calm when you're angry."
Siggy chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of fruit punch," he bawled.