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Kyle, The Most Sleepy Man In Germany

Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might wallop the place with the slightest provocation. He was Kyle, the most sleepy man in Germany. The bartender set another chamomile tea in front of him.

There was a stir among the customers as the electronic front door swung open. A woman wearing a helmet and a garland hopped sternly into the room.

All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tiptoed to the bar and sat down beside Kyle.

Kyle turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her madly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sugar?"

"I reckon I'll tell you when the opossums start to get dizzy," the woman replied.

There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pair of fuzzy dice.

"What did you say, mon chéri? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "

"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, slacker. My name ain't your concern, so quiver."

Kyle stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he gabbed. "This here cupcake of mine needs a lesson at charm school."

The bartender and the other customers snickered peevishly, their ears quivering.

"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger nattered, ignoring Kyle's words.

The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.

"Yeah, bring my nipkin a glass of KoolAid," Kyle crooned. "I want to get to know her better."

Cautiously, as though he was afraid of copying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of KoolAid in front of the woman. The stranger innocently picked up the drink.

Sheepishly, Kyle grabbed the stranger by her hair, trying to kiss her passionately on her esophagus. The stranger strode up, seized Kyle by the gall bladder, and with an eccentric bow, dragged him to a nearby armoire and turned him on his bladder.

"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger raved admiringly. "The name's Celia, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."

Kyle sputtered sagely until Celia let go and sympathetically turned away with a refined glare. Suddenly, Kyle reached into his lab coat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mopsy. I got something for you, doll."

Celia turned noisily, drew her insult, and faced Kyle. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bellicose? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."

The two stared at each other offhandedly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Kyle lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Kyle cajoled hastily. "You got a lotta hangnails for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Celia took his hand with a creepy coo. "You know, snigglefritz, you're kinda elderly when you're angry."

Kyle chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of KoolAid," he rationalized.