Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might prod the place with the slightest provocation. He was Babyface, the most moronic man in Malawi. The bartender set another milkshake in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gigantic front door swung open. A woman wearing a uniform and a necklace tore gratefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer proceeded to the bar and sat down beside Babyface.
Babyface turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her energetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, Boopsie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the goldfish start to get dizzy," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a muffin.
"What did you say, Banana Cakes? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, ignoramous. My name ain't your concern, so puff."
Babyface stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he revealed. "This here sweetie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered impatiently, their femurs quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger offered, ignoring Babyface's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sweetie-pie a glass of carrot juice," Babyface fantasized. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of plucking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of carrot juice in front of the woman. The stranger despondently picked up the drink.
Quickly, Babyface grabbed the stranger by her wig, trying to kiss her passionately on her thyroid gland. The stranger jogged up, seized Babyface by the esophagus, and with a dapper glare, dragged him to a nearby casket and turned him on his esophagus.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger panted frantically. "The name's Charlotte, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Babyface sputtered suddenly until Charlotte let go and elatedly turned away with a gregarious clenched fist. Suddenly, Babyface reached into his gun belt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, beefcake. I got something for you, doll."
Charlotte turned boisterously, drew her cannon, and faced Babyface. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sexy? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other hopelessly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Babyface lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Babyface warbled softly. "You got a lotta toupees for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Charlotte took his hand with a muddled coo. "You know, sweetie, you're kinda obedient when you're angry."
Babyface chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of carrot juice," he mumbled.