5. Not So Funny

The restaurant was not quite fancy, but it did sport white tablecloths and waiters with shiny red bowties. A neat little bar stood at one end where a few people sat, chatting over colorful drinks. In the front of the room was a raised stage with a red curtain hanging behind it. The place was fairly full, but there were a few empty tables scattered about the room. The people varied greatly, some in nearly formal attire while others were casual down to tennis shoes and Levis. A four-piece band, consisting of sax, drums, guitar and keyboard played 'Kokomo' from the far corner.

"Where do you want to sit?" Larry asked as they surveyed the room.

"Hmm." Balki tapped his lips thoughtfully, evaluating the choices. He began a rhythmic chant, pointing to a different empty table with each word. "Dimbodega, dimbodega, habodega—"

Larry grabbed his arm and pulled it down. "How about this table?" He said, dragging Balki to the nearest empty seat and pushing him into the chair.

"This works."

Almost immediately a young man with dark skin and a cheerful smile brought them menus. "Hi. My name is Roger, and I'll be your waiter tonight."

"I'm Balki." The Mypiot began to rise from his seat, arms spread in greeting when Larry's foot made hard contact with his shin, sending him toppling back into his chair with a startled yelp. He eyed his cousin in confusion, while Larry shot him a look and shook his head in warning.

The waiter elevated one eyebrow then said: "I'll give you a few minutes to decide."

"Thank you." Larry gave a polite nod as Roger left.

"Why you did that?" Balki asked, reaching down to rub his leg.

"It's against restaurant policy to hug the waiters." Larry explained flatly as he examined the menu.

The waiter returned shortly, pencil and pad hand. "Are you ready to order?"

Balki turned a bit to look up at him. "I was wondering…I know it's not on the menu, but do you have pig snout?"

The boy looked both startled and repulsed for a moment, but he recovered quickly, donning an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Sir. We're fresh out."

"Oh, okay. Um…do you have yak—ow!" Balki jumped as he received a hard kick from under the table.

Larry shot him glare that clearly forbid him to utter another word. He then turned to the waiter, all smiles. "We'll have the steak." He said sweetly, handing him both menus.

"Would you like drinks with that?"

"Do you have Ginger Ale?" Balki asked, giving his cousin a sideways glance, as if afraid of being kicked again.

"Now that we do have." The young man said with a grin then turned to Larry. "And you, sir?"

"Water's fine for me."

He nodded and turned away.

As soon as the waiter was out of eyeshot Balki retaliated with a swift boot to his cousin's dress pants, earning him a tight-lipped glare. That small piece of revenge executed he returned to amiably observing the other patrons.

Larry picked up a small paper held upright by the salt and pepper shakers. "Look, it says here that they have a comic. It'll be starting in…" He glanced at his watch. "Fifteen minutes."

"They have a comic?" The Mypiot asked excitedly. "Ooh, I hope its Calvin and Hobbes."

"No, Balki." He shook his head with a wry smile. "A comic is a person who says things to make people laugh."

"Garfield would be okay too." Balki said, nodding appraisingly.

"No, no. A guy is going to come up on that stage with a microphone and tell jokes."

"Of course, you can't forget Gary Larson." Balki shook a thoughtful finger. "That man has some amazing insight when it comes to chickens."

Larry sighed in defeat, resting his chin on one hand. "Actually it'll probably be more like 'For Better or For Worse'." He muttered dryly.

A short while after the waiter brought their food the lights dimmed. Balki looked mildly concerned. "Is something wrong with the power?"

Larry shook his head, but before he had a chance to explain a spotlight lit the stage.

A little man with a large moustache and an unbelievably deep voice came out, introduced the comic as 'Charles Mason' and made a hasty exit. Charles Mason was an extremely tall man with thick eyebrows and white teeth that must have been put in place with a level. He came out on stage and immediately began insulting the patrons. He would pick someone randomly from the audience, ask their name then throw out a one liner about their name, loud tie, wife's hat or brother's dog. Larry was sure the man had studied under Don Rickles.

"You!' Mason said, pointing the microphone into the crowd. The spotlight landed on Balki.

"Me?" Balki indicated himself with both hands.

"Oh, no." Larry said to himself as a deep sense of foreboding washed over him.

The comedian nodded. "Yeah. You with the blinding vest and parachute sleeves. What's your name?"

Larry shook his head emphatically but his cousin answered before he had a chance to stop him.

"Balki."

Mason cocked his head slightly. "Pardon me, did you say 'Balki'?"

"Yes."

"What kind of imbecilic name is 'Balki'?" The man asked sarcastically.

"Don't answer him." Larry whispered urgently.

Balki ignored his cousin and replied with a large smile. "Oh, po po! It's not imbecilic. It's Myposian."

"Ooooh, Myposian!" Mason smiled broadly, obviously having no idea what 'Myposian' meant but knowing that he had hit the jackpot. "Well, my Myposian friend Balki, come on up here!" He beaconed expansively with one hand.

"No, Balki. No, no, no!" Balki was out of his chair and up on the stage before Larry could grab him.

The crowd applauded and Balki waved at them, squinting slightly in the spotlight.

"Well, Balki it's nice to meet you." The comedian held out a hand, which Balki ignored, giving the man a big hug instead.

"It's nice to meet you too!"

Larry hid his face in both hands as the audience laughed.

"Whoa, there!" Mason grabbed both Balki's arms, broke the embrace and pushed him back. "Do you greet everyone that way or am I special?"

"Well, a hug is the traditional greeting on Mypos."

"Mypos? Is that where you hail from?"

Balki shook his head. "We don't usually get hail unless it's an extra cold winter. Although one year it snowed. Well, it wasn't really snow. It was ash. That's when Mount Mypos erupted."

Mason's thick eyebrows nearly touched his hairline, obviously unable to believe his luck. "So, how did that go? Did you toss in a human sacrifice or two before it stopped?"

Balki put a hand to his chest in shock. "Of course not, don' be ridiculous! Although, we did do the mandatory lava chant to Magmiki, the goddess of fire and heartburn."

The comedian grinned evilly. "Show me."

"Oh, please no!" Larry begged under his breath.

"You mean now?" Balki asked.

"Yeah, we'd like to see it." He turned to the audience. "Wouldn't we folks?"

The patrons cheered and applauded.

"Aww." Balki said shyly. "You don't want me do that."

"Of course we do." Mason's voice dripped of mock sincerity. "It will be a real cultural experience."

"Well, okay. But usually you do this holding a chicken."

To Larry's complete and utter horror his cousin burst into a strange chant with all the whoops and trills of a trail driver while doing a dance that seemed to be a bizarre mixture of the Twist, the Chicken Dance and the Charleston. Larry shrank in his seat. Part of him wanted to storm up there and rescue his cousin from humiliating himself but the other part wanted to crawl under the table and die.

When Balki had finished the ritual the crowd exploded with cheering applause. Balki waved off the praise bashfully. "Oh, go on with you!"

Mason stood with his mouth half open. "Wow." He said, finally. "I have to admit I have never seen anything quite like that. You don't happen to work at a circus do you?"

"No." Balki answered honestly, once again missing the insult. "I work at a hand store called the 'Ritz Discount'"

"Second hand. Second hand." Larry whispered harshly. He was getting more angry with each insult. But he still couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit and fume. There were just too many people and they were not the well-meaning crowd at the pool either. Their laughter was merciless, prompted by any affront to a person's dignity.

Mason shook his head. "Never saw that coming. See, my next guess would have been a smuggler."

"A what?" Balki asked innocently.

"A smuggler." He repeated. "I mean, there's gotta be a reason you're wearing these sleeves." He grabbed Balki's wrist, held his arm out and pulled at the fabric at his elbow, demonstrating the actual size of his sleeve. "I mean you could hide a couple thousand dollars worth of drugs in there and..."

Balki snatched his hand away and frowned, shocked by the comment. "I would never do that! It's illegal. And Cousin Larry says it's bad for you."

"Well, you'd be great at it."

Balki shrugged one shoulder. He was obviously becoming uncomfortable, and Larry suspected he was beginning to realize he was being made fun of.

"I mean, look at you. You've got a built in hiding place. Look at that nose!"

Balki put a hand up to the bridge of his nose, his expression hurt, as if he just now heard the insulting tone in the comedian's voice.

"There's gotta be plenty of extra space in there."

"Well," Balki said hesitantly, obviously trying to give the man the benefit of the doubt. "It…it is the pride of Mypos."

Mason cocked his head curiously. "Tell me, Balki, does everybody on Mypos talk like they've got a mouth full of peanut butter?"

"That's it!" Larry slammed a hand onto the table and rose to his feet. He stomped up the three steps onto the stage. The spotlight was instantly upon him but he was so angry he scarcely noticed.

"Hey, Balki," Mason said. "Who's the lipless midget coming to your rescue?"

"This my cousin Larry." Balki answered, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" Larry shoved Balki behind him and stood to his full height, which wasn't very impressive compared to the overly tall comedian.

Mason put a hand on his hip and gave Larry a superior smirk. "I suppose you're going to tell me to pick on someone my own size."

Somewhere in the back of his mind Larry heard the audience laugh, but at that moment righteous indignation far overshadowed the fear of humiliation. "You're not a comedian. You're nothing but a bully with a microphone."

He turned to his cousin, taking him by the hand. "Come on, Balki, let's go."

"Um…well, goodbye Charles. Nice to meet you." Balki said, looking extremely bewildered as Larry dragged him from the stage.

"Hey, 'Cousin Larry'," Mason called as they moved toward the back door. "Where'd you get that hair? Stick your finger in a light socket?"

As they left the restaurant Larry released Balki's arm and stormed down the hallway. He was angry and humiliated. "I've got a good mind to complain to the Captain."

Balki shrugged. "Well, the steak was a little tough. But…"

"I mean about the comic!" Larry stabbed a finger back toward the restaurant.

"Charles could brush up on his social skills." Balki admitted. "He could definitely use a lesson in tact."

"Balki, the man said you talk like you've got a mouth full of peanut butter and he called me a lipless midget."

"Got you on both counts there, Cousin." Balki said, one side of his mouth twitching into a grin. "Although, technically you're not a midget, you're just…eh…vertically challenged."

Larry glared daggers at his cousin for a moment before continuing. "He wasn't just being observant! He was making fun of us."

Balki's dark eyebrows came together in a confused frown. "Why would he did that?"

"Because some people think it's funny. Didn't you hear the crowd laughing at you?"

"I…I thought they were laughing with me."

"Well they weren't! And after that dance…" He groaned slightly and put a hand to his head as if the very memory embarrassed him. "…who could really blame them? I cannot believe you did that!"

"I'm proud of my heritage." The Mypiot answered simply. "It's not often I get asked to display it." They walked a little ways further before Balki added. "I'm proud of you too."

Larry looked at his cousin in confusion. "Me? Why?"

"Well, you don' like to get up in front of people, but you did it anyway to protect me. Thank you, Cousin Larry."

The short man gave a small shrug and smiled at his friend. "Friends watch out for each other." After a moment his smile grew. "I did tell him off pretty good, didn't I?"

"Way off!"

They walked in silence for a while until Larry's pace slowed to a stop, his face suddenly pained.

"Cousin, what's wrong?" Balki asked in concern as Larry leaned slightly against the wall and brought a hand to his stomach.

"I think the pills are wearing off." He patted his pockets for a moment, then sighed. "I left them in the cabin."

Rain was falling hard when they stepped out onto the breezeway. Wind tugged at their hair and clothing, making Balki's wide sleeves flap comically. Larry couldn't help but be surprised at how quickly the weather had turned.

By the time they reached their cabin they were both soaked to the skin despite the awning that covered the walkway. Larry leaned heavily on his cousin's shoulder as they stepped into the room. He was so nauseous he could hardly see straight and he had already thrown up once on the way there. He groaned as Balki maneuvered him to the bed.

Balki patted him gently on the cheek. "You just wait there. I'll get your pills for you."

"Thank you. They're in the bathroom." He mumbled weakly and curled up on his side with both arms wrapped around his stomach.

Suddenly the same, overly happy voice they had heard in the spa, sounded over some unseen speaker. "Hello there, passengers. This is your Captain again. We're experiencing a little rough weather right now. So, for your safety, please remain indoors. The decks outside are quite slick and we don't want any lawsuits on our hands." The voice chuckled lightly. "So just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. But please, my friends, stay inside." The good-natured laugh came again. "Besides being the captain of a cruise ship, I'm also an aspiring poet."

The man was way too happy for Larry's liking but at the moment he was simply too sick to comment on it.

He heard Balki rummaging around the bathroom and then the rattle of a pill bottle. "Oh, po po!" Came Balki's sharp gasp just as an ominous 'kerplunk' rang through the cabin.

"What? What was that?" Larry forced himself to sit up.

Balki slowly emerged from the bathroom, his eyes wide and looking like a puppy caught chewing his master's shoe. "I…" He hesitated a long moment, swallowing hard. "I just dropped your pills in the toilet."