"Another Bacardi and coke, Myfanwy," Daffyd drawled lazily, resting his hands on his chin as he sat imposingly at the bar.

"Coming up," Myfanwy answered, trying to hide her smirk as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. As usual he was dressed in something exaggerative and stereotypically gay: A skin-tight black latex shirt with studs over his nipples, and an even tighter pair of matching shorts with a studded crotch, that barely covered his enormous backside.

Of course, being 'the only gay in the village', Daffyd liked to think of wearing ridiculous outfits that chafed (along with a multitude of other trivialities) as his cross to bear.

Myfanwy on the other hand didn't know what to make of it. The boy had probably never even seen a cock yet alone took it up the chuff. Whether it was to make a political statement, to find an identity, to unconsciously conform to popular culture or just to seek attention, calling yourself a gay – 'the only gay in the village', mind you – when you yourself were homophobic was just plain childish.

"When are you going to give it up, Daffyd?" Myfanwy asked, placing his drink in front of him.

"If you are referring to my sexuality, Myfanwy, the answer is never! I was born a gay and I will die a gay! Good God, woman - get over it!" he said importantly, deliberately raising his voice so that everyone would hear.

Rolling her eyes, Myfanwy strode out from behind the counter and went to latch the windows.

"I'm going to close up soon," she stated, eyeing a few lingerers in the quiet of the pub.

"Right-o," said a large man (A/N: Haha! Couldn't resist: guess who?), clearly quite drunk as got up from his seat with difficulty, banging into tables as he wobbled to the door. He fell down with a loud thump before reaching it.

A few other men and a woman with mousey hair gulped down the rest of their drinks and followed suit, trying to step over the gentlemen on their way out (but still managing to catch their feet on his coat).

Myfanwy sighed, gingerly making her way over to the poor bloke. With some effort, she tugged at his arms, trying to pull him through the door.

"Well, don't just sit there," she shot at Daffyd, "Come over here and give me a hand!"

"Can't, Myfanwy," replied Daffyd.

"Because you're a gay?" she shrieked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Why else? Get used to it, homophobe!"

"Homophobe?"

"You heard me, woman!" he spat.

Myfanwy threw up her hands in disgust.

"Honestly, Daffyd! I'm really getting sick of putting up with this shit!"

"Well then make a petition to banish me from the village, why don't you?" Daffyd cried, watching as Myfanwy struggled - but ultimately succeeded - in pushing the large man out of the door.

"And I guess then you'll go and be miserable and complain about how you've been oppressed by society in some other village?" she muttered, closing the door and switching the sign to closed.

"Yes, Myfanwy, I have been imprisoned by society because of my sexuality, and I will not give up this battle until every gay is set free from the chains wrought by fear and narrow-mindedness! …Of course though, there is no other gay but myself in this village."

Myfanwy didn't answer, choosing instead to collect the empty glasses silently and beginning to wipe down the bar and tables. Daffyd watched her carefully, studying the way her eyes flickered downward as they followed her working hands.

Realising what he was doing, he abruptly turned himself around on the stool so that his back was facing her.

Not failing to notice this sudden movement, Myfanwy began, "You know, Rhiannon and I have been talking a lot lately, Daffyd."

"Oh, what have you been talking to her about?"

Myfanwy smiled, standing up straight and wiping her hands on the cloth, "Well, you know, I think I might not be a lesbian after all."

"Well of course you aren't! How could you be if I am the only gay in the village?"

She chuckled quietly.

"No Daffyd, I think I might be…bisexual."

Daffyd folded his arms.

"Well, I suppose that's more like it then!"

"And you know what that means, Daffyd?"

"What does it mean, Myfanwy?"

"It means," She paused for a moment, "that there is only one gay in the village!"

Daffyd got up off of his stool triumphantly.

"I'm glad to see that you're finally starting to make sense!"

"But Daffyd," she laughed, "it isn't you."

Daffyd frowned.

"It's Rhiannon!"

Utterly furious, Daffyd attempted to retaliate in several different ways, but only managed to blurt out a lot of frustrated gibberish.

"Daffyd," Myfanwy said slowly, "you are not gay."

She walked briskly over to the windows and pulled down the blinds, and then did likewise to the door. She then paced back behind the bar and poured herself a full glass of whiskey. Daffyd watched in confusion as she knocked it back before pouring herself another glass.

"What on earth are you doing, woman?" he was finally able to say.

"Proving it to you," she answered.

"What?"

"Proving to you that you're not gay. You're straight, Daffyd – maybe a little bi-curious – but you are definitely not a homosexual."

Daffyd was too shocked to answer as she tore off her blouse and pulled off her skirt, revealing a frilly pink bra and matching underpants.

Daffyd desperately covered his eyes.

"Good God, woman, don't torture me! Put your clothes back on this instant!"

"Ha! And why is it 'torture', Daffyd? If you were really a gay it wouldn't bother you that I was standing here in front of you in my underwear! You wouldn't be affected at all!"

"GO BACK HOME TO YOUR BITCH!" Daffyd shouted, "DON'T TRY AND CONVERT ME, YOU HOMOPHOBE!"

Myfanwy slowly began to unbutton her bra as she pointed out, "You've just contradicted yourself, Daffyd! If Rhiannon is my bitch then that makes me a lesbian! And if I'm a lesbian I can't be a homophobe!"

"But you can be bi," Daffyd replied, throwing his hands up in disgust, "So I haven't contradicted myself after all!"

"But you're still looking at my tits," Myfanwy laughed.

"WHAT? I WAS NOT!" he rapidly averted his eyes, "…And it doesn't affect me at all! So you can stop acting like a fool and put your clothes back on now!"

Myfanwy placed her hand on the top of her panties.

"Daffyd," she sighed, "I know that you've had a crush on me ever since my pa and I moved here when I was 14. You were always too proud to admit it, and things got even worse when you started wearing that silly garb and decided for some reason unknown to me that you were the only gay in the village."

"What on earth are you talking about? Are you on the point of a nervous breakdown or is this some other stupid problem that only women get? I tell you, get dressed immediately and go back home to your…whatever!"

Daffyd was not at all surprised when Myfanwy started to cry.

"Do you know why I married Rhiannon?" she choked.

Daffyd avoided her eyes, shaking his head.

"Because…because I couldn't have you!"

Suddenly very self-conscious, Myfanwy reached for her clothing but fell to the floor, the alcohol beginning to kick in.

Tears streaming down her face, she haphazardly wrenched her blouse back over her head, too distracted to worry about her bra and skirt.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" she sobbed.

Daffyd stood rooted to the floor, his lower lip trembling.

"I- I don't know wh-what to say..." he stammered.

Myfanwy began to wail loudly, her blouse askew and her face a mess.

Wordlessly, Daffyd made his way over to her and sunk to the floor beside her.

He reached out a hand and brushed the hair out of her face.

"Please say something!" Myfanwy begged.

Daffyd bit his lip, and still without saying anything gave her face a single stroke, quickly picked himself up off the floor and marched as quickly as he could to the door.

He slammed it loudly behind him. Shortly after, a loud thump and a few irritated shouts informed Myfanwy that Daffyd had tripped over the drunk.