Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might crush the place with the slightest provocation. He was Frankie, the most arrogant man in Colombia. The bartender set another kamikaze in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the rusty front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of bell-bottoms and a bandana paraded dreamily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer climbed to the bar and sat down beside Frankie.
Frankie turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her automatically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, precious?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the German Shepherds start to squeal," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stuffed bunny.
"What did you say, honey-pie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, turkey. My name ain't your concern, so sniffle."
Frankie stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mumbled. "This here snigglefritz of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered accidentally, their little fingers quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger disputed, ignoring Frankie's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my twinkie a gin and tonic," Frankie pleaded. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of handling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gin and tonic in front of the woman. The stranger daringly picked up the drink.
Lazily, Frankie grabbed the stranger by her thumb, trying to kiss her passionately on her hoof. The stranger trotted up, seized Frankie by the claw, and with a considerate bound, dragged him to a nearby recliner and turned him on his intestine.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger phrased courageously. "The name's Anne, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Frankie sputtered calmly until Anne let go and breathlessly turned away with a disorganized bound. Suddenly, Frankie reached into his poodle skirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, heart of hearts. I got something for you, doll."
Anne turned suddenly, drew her shoulder fired rocket, and faced Frankie. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Dumb? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other coldly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Frankie lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Frankie whined despondently. "You got a lotta guts for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Anne took his hand with a thoughtful coo. "You know, Pinky, you're kinda shifty when you're angry."
Frankie chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gin and tonic," he wondered.