2.12. Since I Lost My Baby

Just teasing with that title, folks. Balki and I didn't lose ANOTHER baby this week. At least, not as far as I know. The title refers to our attempts to reunite a lovesick Mr. Twinkacetti with his wife, which he definitely did not deserve.

We were opening shop for the day at the Ritz, and before I had the "OPEN" sign flipped around Balki was already annoying the shit out of me. I was trying mightily to be the bigger man and ignore him, when we heard rattling around in Twinkie's office. A burglar! It had to be! I grabbed a baseball bat by the front door, crouched into an extra-lethal ninja pose and stalked toward the office. I handed Balki a sheet, and all black-ops style silently instructed him to throw it over the intruder's head so I could beat him to death with my bat.

It would be our first murder. 

We closed in on the office and took positions on either side of the door. I raised my bat. Balki raised his sheet. The office door opened, and Mr. Twinkacetti stumbled out in pajamas. Balki threw the sheet over his head and Twinkie just stood there letting whatever was happening play out (the man really does have the patience of a saint).

Although he owns the store and is almost always there before Balki and I decide to wander in, we never considered it might be Twinkie. I thought about bashing his head in anyway; I'd been storing up bloodlust since Balki arrived and I finally had an outlet for it. But Balki set him free.

 Apparently he's been sleeping in the office because he forgot his anniversary for the sixteenth year in a row, and Mrs. Twinkacetti got sick of his bullshit and threw his ass out. Speak of the devil, she strolled in right at that moment, and Balki immediately wished her a happy anniversary in front of the old man - which I thought was downright diabolical. Balki is at his absolute worst and most vicious around Twinkie, and I kind of love it. 

So Mrs. T demanded a divorce right in front of us, running through a litany of offenses from gambling to wild nights out with the boys, and then smirked and told him the magic is gone. She waved her fancy chinchilla scarf in his face and stormed off, leaving Twinkie miserable and contemplating suicide - so I told him to go screw basically, and Balki invited him into our home. 

Clearly Balki and I were not on the same page with the whole "take Twinkacetti in, or hope he dies alone" debate; so I pulled him aside for a quick sidebar while Twinkie looked on, all vulnerable and lost puppy dog at Balki's offer, which I found disgusting. 

I told Balki I drew the line at letting Twinkie sleep under my roof and Balki told me I had to break the news to him then. This was, of course, much more difficult to do since Balki put the offer on the table without consulting me, but que sera sera, right? I approached the shell of a man who we rely on for money and shelter, and tried to let him down easy - but he broke down into a sobbing puddle, and I broke, God help me. Twinkacetti would be living with us until he figured his own shit out. 

Later that evening, Balki and I were speculating on what kind of wild hijinks might be in store for us with Twinkie living here, when he burst in all fidgety and weird with a sixpack, calling us "great guy pals." He basically said he was done with Mrs. T, and down to party. I tried to tell Balki we should just leave him alone for a couple of days and he and Edwina would figure it out, but Balki insisted on prying deep into the man's psyche until he could break him. Twinkie had no interest; he just wanted to watch porno on our TV. Together. With beers.

But Balki wouldn't let up. He hammered away at Twinkie with themes of loneliness and misery until the guy collapsed again, and committed to getting Edwina back - even if it took months - then stormed off to my bedroom to cry himself to sleep. I committed to saving the Twinkacettis marriage then and there, just to get rid of him; but as you all know, I don't have a lot of luck chasing off unwanted houseguests. The next morning we called Edwina while Twinkie was doing God-knows-what in my bedroom, and we basically lied to her until she agreed to see him for five minutes. Twinkie emerged from my room looking like garbage. He declared that he had read my diary, and that I'm "a sick man." So yeah fair enough, probably, I'm busted there. I assume he's talking about this journal, but it's also possible he found the secret one.

Anyway, Balki told him we'd bought him five minutes with Mrs. T. Twinkie started making a master plan to take her to a rib joint so she could watch him eat, and we weren't having that. We decided to playact the Twinkacettis' reunion at Tony's Mambo Room for him, so he could see how it's done. As the best actor in the house I would, of course, play Mrs. Twinkacetti. I slipped effortlessly into character, softening my features and draping a shawl around my neck. Balki launched into a surprisingly charming soliloquy about my beauty, and the performance was so raw and real that Twinkie got uncomfortable and tried to leave. But we wouldn't let him; we were pretty dialed into the scene by then, and he was going to sit and watch Goddammit. 

We went pretty deep with it. Balki seduced me expertly; I have to admit I was caught up in the moment. 

"Take me," I heaved, and was kind of willing to just see what happened next. Balki finally broke character - I think my performance creeped out even him. Excuse me, my phone's ringing. It's the Academy. Thanks but no thanks. The Oscars are too commercial, jokers.

Twinkie confessed that he could never pull off that kind of heat. This is true, but then he started whining that he would just live with us forever, and Balki and I both kind of panicked. Realistically I would think after a week or two, if things weren't playing out he'd just get his own place. But in the moment it seemed real. We spent the rest of the day prepping him.

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Cut to Tony's. We were both counseling Mr. Twinkacetti, who was a nervous wreck. I was telling him to just play it cool and smooth, just talk his way back in no matter what it took; but Balki told him he had to actually commit to change, and be willing to be a better husband. Twinkie went with the sweet talk, because I am always right and everyone else can go to Hell, forever. 

Edwina showed up, and her body language was screaming "not a chance." He launched into the smooth lines about her eyes that I fed him, but she wouldn't even let him start. 

I'm not counting this as a loss in my column because he never got to drop the winning pickup line that I had cooked up. She wanted him to shoot straight with her about why she should give him another chance. Twinkacetti went on to bury himself pretty deep by describing a date he had at Tony's with some other woman that he cheated on her with while they were engaged. I actually really do think she should divorce him and take all his money. Twinkie ran back to where we were hiding to regroup, and she busted him and stormed away. 

So Twinkie went to walk it off, and said we didn't have to wait up because he made a key. I actually think he's forgotten that he is our landlord.

The next morning we checked into work and discovered the Twinkacettis in his office, fresh off an all night bone-sesh. Turns out he remembered how he'd won her over in the first place, and used the manipulative power of that memory to bait her back to his office.

He told us to take the day off and we were surprised, because usually we just do that anyway without getting his approval or even telling him. 

The Twinkacettis went back into his office to pound some more, leaving Balki and I with a day off to think about how we really need to move and get new jobs.