Hair Today

By: Lauren

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but the plot idea (& my muses).

Rating: G, nothing bad here :-)

* * * * * * *

            Morning. Balki is seated on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal, watching Wile E. Coyote chase the roadrunner. "You can't catch him like that--" He shoveled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

            The bathroom door opened and Larry came out, holding something. He shuffled his way to the couch and glared down at Balki.

            Balki turned. "Want to watch cartoons with me, Cousin? The roadrunner is out-smarting Wile E. Coyote again."

            Larry sighed. "For some reason, I've always felt like that coyote," he commented, then held up what he was holding. "Balki, did you do something to my shampoo? I ran the brush through my hair once and now I think half of it is still in the brush."

            Balki shifted on the couch, trying to get a better look at his cousin's hair. "No, Cousin, most of it is still on your head."

            Larry sighed again. "You didn't answer my question."

            "Cousin, I didn't do anything to."

            "You didn't?" Balki shook his head. Larry's brow arched. "Oh, my Lord!" He turned and scuffed his way back to the bathroom.

            Balki shrugged and went back to his cereal and cartoons.

            Later that morning at the Chronicle. Larry is at his desk, working on an article. Everything looks normal... except that he's wearing a Cubs baseball cap.

            The elevator door opened and Balki came out, followed by Harriet.

            "Look this," Balki said, referring to Larry, who glanced up.

            Harriet crossed her arms. "Why are you wearing that hat?"

            "Balki..." Larry began, then shook his head, as an irritated look crossed his face.

            "What's the matter, baby?" Harriet asked, glancing at Balki, then back at Larry.

            "Cousin thinks his hair is losing," Balki supplied, earning a wide-eyed look from Larry.

            "Is that all?" Harriet shook her head, obviously understanding what Balki meant. "That isn't a big deal." She paused, shrugging. "Carl's bald," she added, referring to her husband. She turned and went back to the elevator, the door closing after her.

            Larry's brow arched. "Bald?"

            "Awe, Cousin," Balki began, then removed the cap, "you aren't bald yet."

            "Yet?" Larry repeated, his voice rising. He paused, seemingly picturing it, and his eyes widened. He snatched the cap from Balki and put it back on. "Balki, don't you have mail to sort?"

            "I finished twenty minutes ago," Balki replied.

            Larry gave him his best menacing look. "Leave... me... alone."

            "Okay! You do'n have to beat me under the head." Balki turned and walked toward the archives.

            That evening, Balki sat at the counter, which was covered with assorted unidentifiable items. He picked one particular item up and looked back down at a scrap of paper.

            The apartment door opened and Larry came in. He hung up his coat and stopped when he noticed Balki at the counter. "What are you doing?"

            Balki was about to pour the liquid he had picked up, but stopped to look at Larry. "I know just what you need, Cousin. I'm making it now."

            "Balki, no." Larry walked over to the counter. "Remember last year when I got that cold and you gave me your 'Mypos cure' that made me sleep for three days--?"

            “Cousin, I explained. It would have only been a nice little twenty minute nap if you waited to let me tell you how much to take,” Balki replied.

            Larry rubbed the side of his head. “Then why didn’t you just make the amount I was supposed to take?” He paused, but didn’t let Balki answer. “So what is this you’re making?” He took off the cap. “Something that grows hair, perhaps? It won’t make me sleep for a week, will it?”

            “Of course not, do’n be ridiculous!” Balki said. “This is the Mypos hair tonic. It makes hair grow. That’s the reason why the older women on Mypos have mustaches. Cousin, I just want to help.”

            “Then stay away from me with that,” Larry said, then paused. “There’s no side effects?”

            Balki shook his head. “None.”

            Larry looked like he was considering it, then sat at the counter. “How does it work? What do I do with it?”

            “Wash in, rinse out,” Balki answered, holding up the glass jar.

            “All of it? This is how much I’m supposed to use?” Larry asked, taking the jar. He held it up to the light, eyeing it.

            “Cousin, just try it. I promise you it will work,” Balki said.

            Larry gave him a wary look before standing and heading toward the bathroom.

“Oh my Lord!” Larry came out of his room, a towel wrapped around his head. He went over to Balki’s room and began pounding on the door. “Balki, get out here!”

After a few moments, the door opened and Balki stopped in the doorway, Dimitri tucked under one arm. He yawned. “Cousin, it’s 4am. Why the nervous breakdance?”

Larry’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider. “Why? Why!? Because of that tonic you gave me, which you said didn’t have any side effects...” He pulled the towel off. “Instead, it only did the opposite of what it was supposed to do and made me bald!”

“Oh, Cousin! That tonic never did that before...” Balki tried.

Larry sighed. “Does it really matter now? I have no hair! I wonder if I can call in sick until it grows back.” He scuffed his way to the couch and flopped down, resting against the arm of the couch and holding his head. “I should’ve known something like this would happen.”

“Cousin,” Balki began, starting towards the couch. He climbed over the back of it and plopped down beside Larry. “I didn’t mean this to happen!”

Larry glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes, then looked straight ahead again. “It’s okay, Balki. You tried to help, that’s what matters. I don’t know. I guess I’m just meant to have adverse reactions to your Myposian cures and things.” He paused. “What am I going to do about this, though? I’ve got a pillow covered with hair in there,” He jerked a thumb towards his bedroom.

“Can I have it?” Balki asked.

“Of course, you can.” Larry’s brow arched as he looked towards the ceiling. “Why me? What did I ever do wrong?”

“Still wearing that hat, Appleton?” Mr. Gorpley commented as he walked past Larry’s desk that morning.

“Yes, thank you for noticing,” Larry returned, without looking up.

Gorpley stopped, a grin crossing his face. “I wonder if Wainright will be making a trip down here today...:

“You wouldn’t...” Larry said, glaring a hole through Gorpley.

The grin remained and Gorpley shrugged before going back to his office.

Balki came down the stairs, humming the theme to the Brady Bunch.

Larry got up and met him at the bottom. “Balki, have you seen Mr. Wainright today?”

“Yes, I have,” Balki answered.

“Was he in a good mood?”

“I couldn’t tell. He was speaking loudly to someone on the phone. Rose told me to leave his mail with her.”

Larry cringed. “Secretary intercepting the mail, speaking loudly over the phone...” He trailed off, then grabbed a handful of the front of Balki’s shirt. “I need to get out of here!”

“What the commotion is, Cousin?” Balki asked, then removed Larry’s hands from his shirt. “Ow. I have chest hair, remember?”

“Sorry... If Wainright’s in a foul mood and he comes down here, sees me wearing a baseball cap, he’ll leave me with two options: take the cap off or get fired. Balki, right now I’m not very fond of either of those options.’ He paused. “I need a plan... I need to think... I can’t think... I’m as good as fired...!”

“Cousin, your ventilating is come close to being hyper,” Balki said, earning a wary glare from him.

“I’m never at a loss for plans! I... I feel like Samson!”

“Oh, I love that show! There are all kind of Myposian treasures in that junk yard!”

Larry considered explaining what he meant, but though better of it. “I’m going home. Just tell anyone who asks why I left that I wasn’t feeling well, okay?”

“But Cousin—”

“Trust me, Balki, this time I’m not lying,” Larry grabbed his sport jacket from his chair and headed for the exit.

That evening, the door opened and Balki came in. He hung up his jacket, while looking around. “Cousin?”

“In here,” came the reply from behind the closed bathroom door.

Balki walked over and leaned against the door frame. He paused a moment. “Why?”

“Think about it... or rather don’t.” Seconds later, the door opened, and Larry came out, holding something behind his back. “Two reasons: the first, I think you can figure out and the second... I wanted to see how this looked.” He held out a wig... or rather a mop of fake curly hair.

“What that is” Balki asked, poking at it.

“It’s my remedy until either my hair grows back, or you find another Myposian wonder cure. It’s a wig, Balki,” Larry said, adding the last part after seeing Balki’s questioning look.

“Cousin, it looks like it belongs in a cage.”

“Maybe, but until I say otherwise, it belongs on my head. If you’ll excuse me...” Larry turned and went back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open. “I have to figure out where the front of it is.”

“It do’n say?” Balki asked, following him.

“Unfortunately, it isn’t marked.” Larry set the mop of fake hair on his head, then turned it this way, then that to straighten it out. “Balki, are you sure you made that tonic right? There’s no logical reason why it would only grow hair for Myposians.”

“The only way I know to check is to make it again and for you to try it again.”

Larry paused, staring at Balki through the mirror. “And if it doesn’t work right...?”

“We find out what happens then,” Balki answered.

“You go start putting it together. Let me know when you want me to be your guinea pig again.”

“But, Cousin, you—”

“Never mind, just go put it together.”

Balki turned and headed for the kitchen.

Larry adjusted the fake hair on his head. “And to think there’s no baldness or even thinning hair in my family.”

A while later, Balki left the kitchen, jar in hand. He went over to the couch, where Larry sat.

Larry turned an expectant look at him and held out a hand.

“Before I give you this, I want you to promise that if anything just as bad or worse happens, you wo’n hang it over my head,” Balki said.

“I promise, now give me the jar,” Larry said.

Balki still held onto it tight. “That’s funny, I do’n believe you.”

Larry sighed. “I promise, okay? Just give me the jar and we’ll both find out what happens.” He held his hand out again.

This time, Balki handed over the jar, which Larry promptly took into the bathroom.

The next morning...

“BALKI!”
Balki looked up from his breakfast in time to see Larry enter the room. “Cousin, the tonic worked!”
Larry was fuming; however, he forced a grin. “Notice something off about my new hair?” Balki thought about it, but Larry didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Balki, my new hair is blond! I look like Harpo Marx!” He flopped onto the chair across from Balki.

“Oh, Cousin, it do’n look that bad.”

“Really?”

“Not at all.” Balki paused, then added, “Can I be Groucho?”
Larry glared at him. “Very funny.”

THE END