A barely detectable look of dread flashed across Effie Dragwell's finely painted features. However, Ms Dragwell was a superb actress, one who had expertly gleaned the tricks of her trade.
"Well," she said breezily, dusting down the front of her corset and looking sideways coquettishly at the manly man. "We don't usually allow for private – viewings – if you catch my drift." At that moment a breeze came through the saloon doors and lifted her skirt. "Oh my!" she gasped.
In the background, Haymitch temporarily roused himself from his seventeenth Budweiser, and caught sight of Effie's fine ankles. "Hurgh, oggy hoo." He drunkenly slurred, falling off his barstool.
Gale unfortunately did not share Haymitch's appreciation for Effie's slight reveal, and he glared at her, clearly unimpressed. "I have money, and wares from the Apache Wars: rope, sling-shots, badger hides, some pepper, a rare Satsuma. Take your pick, woman. The dancer" – he indicated Peeta – "is mine."
"Well, I do like satsumas…" Effie mused to herself. Nevertheless, she knew the gravity of the situation if she were ever to disclose the true identity of her star. Sharply flicking open her fan, Effie shot Gale a long and lustful look. Leaning over him, she gently caressed his neck with her lips, whilst sliding one hand down his chest.
"Trust me darling, I'm much better than that little wench could ever be. Give me the badger hides and the Satsuma, and I'll show you what a real woman can do."
Gale's face remained stoic and unmoved. His hand still clutched the glass of whiskey on the bar-top, and his jaw visibly tautened. Finally, he could take Ms Dragwell's fondlings no more, and swiped at her with his great hammy fist. "Enough woman!" he boomed, rising to his feet, badger hides swinging around his crotch-area, rope wrapped mannishly around his ankles. He took another swipe at Effie, and she giggled excitedly, and looked disappointed. She tottered off upstairs, bemused.
Peeta watched the carnivalesque scene unfolding before him. Sighing to himself, he floated down from the stage, and sashayed in between the arguing pair – narrowly missing a swipe from the loud apish brute. Climbing the stairs, Peeta turned around to watch the progress of the argument between his mistress and the stranger. Effie, who had returned from upstairs with a whip, was waving it wildly around her head, aiming for the stranger's elbow.
Gale looked down at her like one would look at a fly, and said in disgruntled tones, "What is this nonsense? You can have the badger hides, little woman."
"I should hope so!" said Effie, striking the Gargantuan Gale on the ribs.
Since she showed no signs of abating in her assault, Gale bent over and reached down towards her. Effie squealed and started to run, but such was the length of Gale's arm that his hand followed after her. He caught her in one, and gave her a noogie. "Who's your daddy? WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" Gale bellowed.
By this point, Peeta had had enough. Taking off his stiletto heel, he aimed at the stranger with as much precision as he could muster. Flinging the shoe, he caught the bully squarely between the eyes. Gale let out a disgruntled grunt, dropping Effie to the floor. Effie stood up and straightened her wig.
"Who threw that?" boomed Gale, turning, and his badger hides swung low and heavy about him.
His eyes rested upon Peeta looking down from the gallery above.
Peeta gazed down and his cerulean eyes met the steely blue stare of the Gastronomical Gale.
Both Effie and Barman Bunderburg looked between the two, and Effie knew there was no way she could stop the mighty man from claiming her star performer.
There was a flash of light, and suddenly everyone in the bar became frozen. A rising breeze flew open the saloon doors, and in sleeked a brazen coyote. It took stock of the scene before it, then slowly slinked its way towards the bar. Standing on its hind legs, it poured itself a Budweiser from the barman's beer tap. Sipping thoughtfully on its beer, it rested its eyes on the two figures staring intently at one another. Recognising that they were its reason for being there, it put down its Budweiser and floated over to the taller of the two.
Smiling to itself, revealing its long knife-like teeth, the coyote ripped the sleeve off Gale's tunic, exposing his muscular arm. Then the wolverine-creature levitated up to the gallery where Peeta still stood in static time. It gnashed its teeth and salivated a bit, and then tore into Peeta's sequined dress, revealing his dainty white arm.
The coyote's work was done. It floated back down to ground-level, poured itself another drink for the journey, and made its exit. At the saloon-doors, it clicked its claws, and time returned once again.
Peeta suddenly found himself staring down at the bulging, rippled, over-stimulated arm of Gale, who in turn had caught sight of Peeta's delicate porcelain limb. They were both observing a tattoo that had been revealed on each other's bodies.
Gale's was a grizzly bear, and Peeta's a shining star.
TBC…