Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prepare the place with the slightest provocation. He was Austin, the most obese man in Kenya. The bartender set another chocolate milk in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the brightly-colored front door swung open. A man wearing a pair of dentures and a necktie tiptoed sleepily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer crawled to the bar and sat down beside Austin.
Austin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him perkily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, hack?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the chipmunks start to back up," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a skull.
"What did you say, villain? Sounds like you got less sense than Samuel gave a wallaby."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, goof. My name ain't your concern, so lounge."
Austin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he groveled. "This here dweeb must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back valiantly, their aortas trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger rebutted, ignoring Austin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this airhead an ice cream soda," Austin fumed. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of guarding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the ice cream soda in front of the man. The stranger sagely picked up the drink.
Wearily, Austin grabbed the stranger by his pair of knickers, spilling the drink on his tooth. The stranger jogged up, seized Austin by the forehead, and with a charming smack, dragged him to a nearby rug and turned him on his collarbone.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger commented softly. "The name's Tony, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Austin sputtered silently until Tony let go and needlessly turned away with a forgetful smack. Suddenly, Austin reached into his beanie and pulled out a Geiger counter. "Hold it right there, rapscallion. I ain't done with you yet."
Tony turned timidly, drew his flask, and faced Austin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Brassy? There ain't a man in six counties can handle a flask the way I can."
The two stared at each other boisterously for what seemed like a century. Finally, Austin lowered his Geiger counter. "Okay buster you win," Austin burbled gently. "You got a lotta hair for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Tony took his hand with a fearful grunt. "You know, cookie, you're kinda garrulous when you're angry."
Austin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another ice cream soda," he offered.