Perfect Strangers Episode Guide

EPISODE 109 - Finders Keepers

First Air Date: January 4, 1991
Filming Date: December 6, 1990
Nielsen Rating: 13.1 HH

Co-Producer: Alan Plotkin
Created by: Dale McRaven
Written by: Tom Amundsen
Directed by: Judy Pioli

Bronson Pinchot: Balki Bartokomous
Mark Linn-Baker: Larry Appleton
Sam Anderson: Mr. Sam Gorpley

Guest Cast:
Bryan OíByrne: Father Killion
John Petlock: The Minister
Judy Pioli: Mourning Masseuse

Dimitri Appearances: Balki carries Dimitri from his bedroom into the living room and then uses him to try to keep Larry from killing him.  Dimitriís photograph can also be seen on the bookcase.

"Keep your eyes crossed."
"This is a man of the loin cloth!"
"Have you taken leave of your sinuses?"

Donít be ridiculous: Said once in this episode.

Other catchphrases used in this episode:
"Oh my Lord!"
"You are a genius!"
"That is correct."

Other running jokes used in this episode:
Larry grabs Balki by the shirt
Larry gets Balki to do something he wants by painting a false scenario and causing Balki to voluntarily change his mind
Balki hugs someone to greet them for the first time
Jokes are made about Larryís height
Larry grabs Balki by the ear

Songs: "The Name Game" - Balki starts singing a version of this as heís counting out money

Interesting facts:
The name of this episode is derived from saying, "Finders keepers, losers weepers."
- Sam Anderson had some wonderful moments in this episode as Mr. Gorpley tried various ruses to get the money.  What was sadly lost were the tags of these bits.  Each time Larry slammed the door on Mr. Gorpley, he would poke his head back in and say something nasty to them!
- Bryan OíByrne, who played Father Killion, is a character actor with a long list of credits to his name.  He had previously appeared in such shows as Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Untouchables, Rawhide, Perry Mason, My Favorite Martian, The Munsters, Ben Casey, Batman, The Lucy Show, The Big Valley, I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, Get Smart, Gunsmoke, Love, American Style, The Partridge Family, The Bob Newhart Show, Happy Days, Maude, Welcome Back, Kotter, Baretta, Eight is Enough, Alice, Benson, Mamaís Family and Murder, She Wrote.  This show and an episode of Step by Step he appeared in are among the last of his credits at IMDb.
- As we pointed out in the last episode, Beekman would become a more common name in the series, and is used here again for Beekmanís Funeral Home.
- The role of the mourning masseuse was one of the funniest of the show and you may wonder why the woman who played her didnít receive screen credit for her part. Well, she actually did receive screen credit, but at the beginning of the episode and as director, since she was played by Judy Pioli!
- John Petlock, who played the minister, also has a long list of credits to his name, having appeared in The Rockford Files, Mary Tyler Moore, Dallas, The Incredible Hulk, Charlieís Angels, Lou Grant, Taxi, The Fall Guy, Simon and Simon, Remington Steele, Whoís the Boss?, Family Ties, Hooperman, Quantum Leap, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Matlock, Designing Women, Coach, General Hospital, Step by Step, Ellen and The Practice.
- As Balki is wiping the tears of the mourning masseuse, he is using a beautiful, monogrammed handkerchief with the initials BBB on it, which stand for his full name, Balki Bini Bartokomous.
- Another thing cut from the episode would explain the strange look Father Killion gave to the bag of cookies Balki gave him for the orphans when he left.  After giving him the cookies, Balki explained what they were made of.  We canít recall what it was exactly, but it was deserving of Father Killionís concern!

The episode begins in the apartment. Balki is sitting on the couch, counting out money which he sets on the coffee table.  He names the Presidents on the bills as he sorts them out.  "Washington, Washington, Washington, Lincoln, Lincoln, bo bincoln, banana-fanna fo finkin, me-mi-mo mincoln, Lincoln!" Balki finishes, utilizing the Name Game song.  Larry walks in the door and greets him, "Hi, Balki."  "Cousin!  Cousin, I found some money!" Balki exclaims.  "Thatís nice," Larry says absent-mindedly, "How much?  Five dollars?  Ten dollars?"  Larry heads for his room.  "Well, I donít know," Balki answers, "I got tired of counting at around forty thousand dollars."  Larry stops in his tracks and spins around with a wide-eyed look.  He runs back into the living room and sees all the money.  "Oh my Lord!" Larry gasps, "Where did you find it?"

Balki stands up to begin, "Well, itís an interesting story.  I found it at 6th and Main behind the abandoned building that used to be the headquarters of the International Lambada Association.  I never did figure out why that dance never caught on, it was so sort of . . . so sort of . . . "  Balki starts moving his body in a Lambada fashion.  " . . . so primal, so deep-seated.  And the best part was you didnít have to wear a shirt so at the end of the night you didnít have them sticky pittys," he points to his armpits.  "Balki!" Larry cries, grabbing Balki by the shirt and pulling him closer, "Was there a name on the box?"  "No," Balki answers.  "Was there anyone around when you found the box?"  "No."  "So there was no name, no one was around, thereís no way to identify the rightful owner?" Larry asks.  "No, no and no," Balki answers.  "You are a genius!" Larry exclaims, grabbing Balki by the head, and then hugging his face to Balkiís and saying happily, "We are rich!"  Balki cries, "Ow!  Cousin, arenít you forgetting something?"  "Yes, yes," Larry says, pulling his head back and straightening Balkiís hair and shirt, "Technically . . . technically you are rich but youíre gonna share, arenít you?  I mean, after all, we are family!"

Larry grabs Balki and pulls their heads together again in a hug.  "Weíre close!  Whatís yours is mine!"  "Cousin . . . "  "Whatís mine is yours!"  "Cousin, listen to me . . . "  "We share everything!  Everything!"  Balki manages to get his hand between their faces to push Larryís away.  "Stop it," Balki urges, "Listen, Iím going to return the money to its rightful owner."  "Well, of course weíll try to find the rightful owner," Larry says with Balkiís hand still on his face.  Balki pushes them apart and they take a moment to get themselves straightened out.  "But I gotta warn ya, Balki . . . itís not gonna be easy," Larry continues.  "Well, of course not, donít be ridiculous," Balki responds, "But I think it might be easier with this newspaper ad I wrote."  Balki hands Larry a notepad.  Larry reads aloud, "ĎI found a big box of money.  I live at 711 Caldwell, Apartment 209.  Please come and get the money.í"  Balki smiles.  "Well, Balki, you found the money, you wrote the ad," Larry says, "I canít let you do everything.  Iíll take care of this."  "Oh, Cousin, youíre too good to me," Balki beams.  "I know," Larry smiles.

On a later date, Mr. Gorpley is sitting on the couch with Balki in the apartment.  "Bartokomous, I canít tell you how upset I was when I lost that money," Mr. Gorpley says as Balki pats his knee sympathetically, "If you hadnít mentioned at work that you found it, I donít know what I would have done."  "Oh Mr. Gorpley, Iím so relieved to find out that the moneyís going to go to its rightful owner," Balki sighs, "It . . . it would have been terrible . . . "  "Give me the box," Mr. Gorpley insists.  "Okay," Balki says, and he reaches behind him to grab the box and hand it to Mr. Gorpley, saying, "Here you are, Mr. Gorpley."  Larry walks in just at that moment, sees what is happening and screams, "NO!" as he launches himself over the couch and lands between Mr. Gorpley and the box of money.  "Too much caffeine?" Balki asks.  "Balki, what are you doing?" Larry asks.  "Well, Cousin, youíre not going to believe this but out of all the millions of people that live in Chicago this money belongs to our own Mr. Gorpley," Balki explains.  Mr. Gorpley nods.

"Youíre right," Larry says as he pushes himself to the other side of Balki, "I donít believe it!"  Larry sits on one side of Balki and holds the edge of the box Balki has on his lap while Mr. Gorpley keeps hold of the other side of the box.  "Wh . . . just stay out of this, Appleton," Mr. Gorpley warns.  "But . . . but Cousin," Balki says, "Cousin, this is Mr. Gorpleyís money that he was saving for his motherís operation."  Gorpley pretends to tear up as he nods again.  "Balki, this isnít Gorpleyís money," Larry insists as he pulls the box away, "there is no operation and Gorpley never had a mother!"  Balki stares at Mr. Gorpley in disbelief and asks, "Mr. Gorpley, is this true?  You never had a mother?  Does this mean you have no belly button?"  Balki starts trying to pull Mr. Gorpleyís shirt open to look.  "All right, all right, all right," Mr. Gorpley slaps Balki away, "You win.  Weíll split the money three ways."  "I got a better idea," Larry says, setting the box down and getting up to point to the open the front door, "Get out!"  Mr. Gorpley acts offended and gets up, walking toward the door.  He grabs a handful of money as he passes the box but Larry rips it out of his hands and then shuffles him to the door.

Mr. Gorpley stops in the doorway and asks, "How about 80/20?"  "Goodbye," Larry says, and he slams the door shut.  Larry runs back to the couch and sits down, placing the box of money on his lap as he presses the bundles of money to his face.  He stops and asks, "Do you see that, Balki?  That is what greed can do to a person."  "Disgusting!" Balki comments.  "Iíll say," Larry agrees, "There are a lot of dishonest people out there who would love to get their hands on this money.  And that is why we have to be very, very careful."  "That is why Iím gonna take this money to the police," Balki says, and he picks up the box and starts for the door. Larry nods, then realizes what Balki has said and jumps over the couch to catch Balki at the door, asking, "The police?  No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."  "Why not, Cousin?" Balki asks.  "W . . . why not?" Larry asks, "W . . . w . . . well, uh . . . well, uh . . . uh . . . all right, how about this?  Thereís about fifty thousand dollars in this box?"  "That is correct," Balki confirms.  "What if there was originally a hundred thousand dollars?" Larry asks.  Balki looks shocked and says, "I never thought of that."  "I know you never thought of that," Larry continues, "But the police will think of that.  And when you take this money to them, theyíll say, ĎWhat happened to the other fifty thousand dollars?í  And what will you say?"

"Uh . . . I . . . I just tell them that . . . that this . . . this . . . is . . . is all the money that . . . that I . . . I found and . . . and somebody else must have find the rest of it," Balki answers nervously.  "Oh . . . oh, and you expect them to believe that?" Larry asks.  "Well, I . . . I pray they will," Balki says.  "Well, they wonít," Larry states, "They wonít!  Theyíll want the other fifty thousand dollars.  Now, do you have that kind of money?"  "No, I . . . "  "Do you?" Larry pressures him.  "No, I . . . "  "Do you?  Do you have that kind of money?"  "I donít have that kind of money," Balki says tearfully.  "Then the police will have no choice but to send you to prison," Larry says.  Balki breathes heavily, fighting back tears.  "Do you want to go to prison?" Larry asks.  "No!" Balki cries, "I donít want to go to prison."  "Do you want to go to prison?"  "No, I donít want to go to prison!"  "Well, if you take this money to the police youíll have to go to prison!" Larry insists.  "No, I donít want to take this money to the police," Balki cries, running to the couch to sit down.  "Youíll have to go to prison!" Larry repeats.  "No, I donít want to take this money to the police!" Balki cries.  "Are you sure?  Are you sure?" Larry asks, "I think we should take it to the police."

"No!  Please!  Please!  Please donít make me take the money to the police!"  "All right," Larry agrees.  Balki continues to cry.  Larry walks to the couch and sits next to Balki, saying, "All right, we wonít take the money to the police."  "Thank you!" Balki sobs, "Thank you for saving me from myself!"  "Youíre welcome," Larry smiles.  Balki hands Larry the box and says, "Youíd better safeguard this."  "Weíll just do what the police would do," Larry explains, "Weíll keep the money in a safe deposit box for thirty days and if the rightful owner doesnít claim it . . . it will be ours.  We get it.  All of it.  Every cent."  "But if the rightful owner does show up then . . . then we give it to him . . . right?" Balki asks, taking a bundle of money from the box.  "Weíll cross that bridge when we come to it," Larry answers, snatching the money back from Balki.  "Wait, no, no . . . " Balki starts to protest.  "No, you donít . . . " Larry interrupts.  "Excuse me . . . excuse me, let me just . . . let me . . . "  "The important thing is we kept you out of prison," Larry reminds him.  "Oh God," Balki cries, burying his face in Larryís arm.

Three weeks later, Balki and Larry are in the apartment.  Balki is pacing behind the couch while Larry sits calmly on the couch looking at some brochures.  "Cousin, itís been twenty-nine days since I found the money and we still havenít found the rightful owner and Iím just sick thinking that we may never find the rightful owner," Balki worries, "I canít eat, I canít sleep and my hair has lost its luster."  "I know," Larry sighs, "Iím sick about it, too.  But what díya think?  A Ď62 Corvette or a Caribbean cruise?"  Balki looks at Larry with confusion when there is a knock at the door.  "Cousin, this could be the one," Balki says hopefully, "Keep your eyes crossed."  Balki opens the door and a little old man with a mustache, glasses, hat, and cane staggers into the apartment.  "Iíve come to claim the box," the man says.  "Oh, please . . . please come in," Balki invites him as he closes the door.  Balki takes the manís hand as he shuffles further into the room and then has to catch his breath.  "Uh, could you . . . could you identify it?" Balki asks.  "Yes, it was a green cardboard box about this size and it was filled with money.  Lots and lots of money.  My money," the old man explains.

Larry has been eyeing the man strangely, then smirks and walks over to him.  Larry pulls the hat and white wig off the man, as well as the moustache.  Itís Mr. Gorpley.  Larry finishes by kicking the cane out from under him, throwing him off balance.  "For the last time you are not getting the money!" Larry states, giving him back the hat and wig then walking to the door and opening it.  "Now, beat it!" Larry insists.  Mr. Gorpley starts to exit then stops at the doorway.  "Tell you what," Mr. Gorpley says, "Slip me a few hundred and Iím outta your hair forever."  "Goodbye," Larry says, and he slams the door shut.  Balki looks really confused and asks, "Cousin, am I alone here or is that man a dead ringer for Mr. Gorpley?"  "Youíre alone here," Larry answers curtly.  Balki looks around, even more confused.  "Balki, Iím afraid that we may not find the rightful owner of that money," Larry says, "Weíre going to have to accept the sad fact that in twenty-four hours . . . that money will be ours.  Iím sorry."  Balki suddenly remembers, "Cousin, we have one more person we have to see.  I really liked the sound of his voice on the phone.  I . . . I have a good feeling about him."

"Balki, all weíve seen so far have been fakes, phoneys and imposters," Larry points out, "I doubt this guyís gonna be any different."  There is a knock at the door.  "Go ahead, Balki," Larry sighs, "Let the next liar in."  Balki opens the door to reveal a kind-looking priest.  "Hello, Iím Father Killion," the priest introduces himself.  Balki steps forward and hugs him.  Larry rolls his eyes.  "Iíve come to talk about the box youíve found," Father Killion explains, "Iím hoping itís the box I lost."  "Well, please, come in and sit down," Balki offers.  "I know itís a longshot," Father Killion says as he walks to the couch, "But Iíve looked everywhere and by some miracle I came across your ad in a copy of Stockyard and Slaughterhouse Monthly."  "Cousin, I thought you were going to put the ad in a newspaper," Balki says.  "The Stockyard and Slaughterhouse Monthly is a newspaper," Larry defends himself, then he turns on the priest, saying, "All right, Padre . . . letís not waste each othersí time.  How do I know youíre a priest?"  Father Killion looks surprised.  "How many books in the Old Testament begin with ĎSí?" Larry asks, "You donít know, do you?  Do you?  You have no idea . . . !"  "Cousin!" Balki scolds, and he walks across the couch and places a hand on Larryís face, saying, "Please, stop it!  This is a man of the loin cloth!"

Balki sits next to Father Killion again and says, "Iím Balki Bartokomous.  Iím the one who found the box."  "Iím so happy that you did," Father Killion replies, "You see, our parish was having a festival to raise money for our orphanage and I lost the box."  Larry rolls his eyes again.  "Orphanage?" Larry asks skeptically as he walks around the couch, "You know, we have heard some pretty low, devious stories but yours takes the cake."  "If I could just see the box, I could tell you if itís mine or not," Father Killion suggests.  "Well, itís not gonna be that easy," Larry says, sitting on the arm of the couch, "Why donít you describe your lost box?"  "Well," Father Killion begins, "it was a small green cardboard box, about two feet by three feet, and it had fifty thousand, two hundred and thirty four dollars in cash that was wrapped with red rubber bands.  Oh, and two dollars and seventy-three cents in change in a small velvet bag in one corner of the box."  "What color was the velvet bag?" Larry asks.  "Blue," Father Killion answers.  "Thereís a million blues!" Larry carries on, "What kind of blue?  Light blue?  Dark blue?"  "Periwinkle," Father Killion answers.  "Heís guessing!" Larry insists.

Balki gets up and advances on Larry, saying, "Cousin, would you please?  Have you taken leave of your sinuses?  I think we found the rightful owner."  "Yeah, great," Larry sighs.  "I am so relieved," Father Killion says as he gets to his feet, "because weíll lose the orphanage if I donít get to the bank by five oíclock today with that final payment."  "Well, uh, Father Killion," Larry says, shaking the manís hand and then leading him to the door, "we have your money in a safe deposit box and weíll just, uh . . . get to the bank and get the money to you before five oíclock."  "Youíre fine, good young men and I canít thank you enough," Father Killion offers, "Iím sure you must be disappointed that you wonít be able to keep the money but I assure you . . . you will be richly rewarded.  Iíll be back later this afternoon."  Father Killion leaves and Larry closes the door.  No sooner is the door closed than Larry turns to Balki and asks, "Did you hear that, Balki?  We are going to be richly rewarded!"  "Cousin, we saved the orphanage!" Balki smiles.  "Yeah, that too," Larry says quickly, "So, how much do you think the reward will be?  Huh?  Figure a minimum of ten percent.  That means five thousand dollars!"  Larry hugs Balkiís arms.

"Iíll just get the key to the safety deposit box and weíll go to the bank," Larry says, and he runs to the hall closet and starts rummaging around inside.  "Oh boy, what a day, huh?" Balki asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, "I mean, we saved an orphanage!  Can you imagine?"  Larry is throwing clothes out of the closet wildly as Balki continues.  He becomes more frantic in his search as Balki keeps talking, unaware of whatís happening behind him.  "I can just see it, someday down the line they . . . they put up a plaque to us.  This orphanage saved by Balki and Cousin Larry.  Oh itís . . . I . . . it just . . . it just . . . "  Larry leans out of the closet and asks, "Balki?"  "Yeah?" Balki replies.  "I canít find the suit I put the key in," Larry says.  Balki looks worried and asks, "Suit?"  "Yes," Larry confirms.  "Not the blue pin-striped suit with the clam sauce on the lapel?" Balki asks.  "Yes.  Yes, thatís the one," Larry says, "Where is it?"  "I havenít seen it," Balki says, his deep voice giving away the fact that heís lying.

Balki gets up and makes a run for it with Larry in hot pursuit.  They run through the kitchen and then Balki races into his bedroom with Larry close behind.  A moment later Larry jumps out of the bedroom, then looks confused.  He turns and runs into the bathroom as Balki sneaks out of his bedroom carrying Dimitri.  Balki makes his way to the couch but Larry comes around the other side and rushes him.  "No!  No!  No!" Balki cries as Larry lunges at him, knocking him down on the couch and grabbing him by the sleeves.  "No, no, no!  You . . . you wouldnít hurt a man with a lamb would you?" Balki asks, holding up Dimitri and making him "lick" Larryís face.  Larry starts talking in a high-pitched sweet voice as he takes Dimitri, saying, "Oh . . . heís a sweet little lamb.  Just a sweetie . . . just a sweet little lamb, yes."  Larry sets Dimitri on the coffee table and then lunges at Balki again, grabbing him by the collar and demanding, "Where is it?!"  "I . . . I donated it to the Good Neighbor Thrift Shop," Balki explains.  "No!" Larry shouts.  "Yes," Balki replies.  The scene fades to black.

Act two begins a short time later.  Balki and Larry are at the kitchen counter and Balki is on the phone.  "Hello?  Is this the Good Neighbor Thrift Shop?" Balki asks, "Well, this is Balki Bartokomous and I . . .  Yes!  Yes!  Iím the one who hugged you.  Did you ever get rid of that cold?  Well, I told you, you got to bulk up on the C and the garlic tabs."  " . . . just ask . . . just ask them about . . . " Larry tries to interrupt.  "No, they make an odorless garlic . . .  Cousin, Iím just trying to be polite!"  "Ask him!" Larry snarls.  "Itís a her!" Balki corrects.  "Find the suit!  Find the suit!  Find the suit!" Larry screams.  Balki slowly raises the phone to his ear again.  "Hello?  No . . . no, itís nothing.  The cat had a hairball.  Anyway, eh . . . the . . . the suit was a blue pin-striped suit . . .  Yes!  Yes, the . . . the pants were a little on the short side."  Larry looks confused.  "Cousin, she remembers the suit!" Balki reports.  "Well, find out where it is!" Larry urges.  "Okay," Balki says, and he says into the receiver, "Hello?  Uh huh . . . uh huh . . . oh, uh huh . . . well, okay, thank you very much and . . . and take care of that cold."  Balki hangs up the phone.  "Cousin, good news.  I know where your suit is."  "Where?" Larry asks.  "Mr. Wilson is wearing it," Balki answers.  Larry grabs Balkiís head over the counter and hugs it to his, saying, "Oh, thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Where is he?"  "Beekmanís Funeral Home," Balki answers, "Heís being buried this afternoon."  Larry lunges for Balki over the counter but Balki ducks and makes a run for it.

At a church, Mr. Wilson is laying in an open casket as mourners walk past.  Other mourners have already taken their seats.  Balki and Larry are at the end of the line of mourners and reach the casket.  "Get the key," Larry whispers to Balki.  But Balki is crying. Larry pinches Balki to make him stop.  "Get the key," Larry repeats, "Itís in the inside breast pocket."  "Are you sure?" Balki asks.  "I donít think he moved it," Larry replies.  Balki turns to the casket as the minister announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, would you please take your seats?  We are about to begin."  "Did you get it?" Larry whispers to Balki.  "No," Balki whispers back.  They move to the side of the room.  "Cousin, why we donít just tell the family the truth and . . . and get the key?" Balki asks.  "Oh good idea, Balki," Larry scoffs, "Iíll just say ĎMy condolences.  Mind if I go through the deceasedís pockets?í"  The minister begins.  "Family . . . friends . . . we are here today to mourn the passing of . . . of . . . of, uh . . . "  He stops speaking when a large, blonde woman dressed in black enters, sniffing.

The woman gives the family a very unfriendly look and stops at the casket and sobs.  " . . . Fred Wilson," the minister finally says.  The woman walks over where Larry and Balki are standing and starts to cry in an unflattering and huffing way.  "Oh, oh, oh," Balki says sympathetically as he takes out a handkerchief to dab her tears, "No, no, no, donít cry.  Donít cry.  I . . . I . . . I know just what youíre going through.  On Mypos when weíre grieving we make a mud sculpture of the deceased and by the time the rains come weíve pretty much gotten it out of our systems."  The woman nods and says, "Look at them.  They donít care about him.  Thatís his ex-wife."  She indicates a woman in a nearby seat.  "She sold all his clothes!  Fred had style and class.  He wouldnít be caught dead in a suit like that."  Larry looks as if he is about to say, "Well . . . " but doesnít.  " . . . and we will all miss him in our own personal way," the minister continues.  "You were a friend of Mr. Wilsonís?" Larry asks the woman.  "Oh, I was more than a friend," the woman explains, "I was his paralegal, his financial advisor, his masseuse."  She starts to cry again.

Balki allows her to blow her nose in his handkerchief.  "It sounds like you were very close," Balki notes.  "Yeah," the woman sighs, "Uh, and you are . . . ?"  "Oh, Iím Balki," Balki says as he hugs her.  She reacts with a surprised, "Oh!"  "And this is my Cousin Larry."  Larry shakes hands with the woman, who says, "A pleasure.  Uh, were you friends of Fredís?"  "I never met him," Balki admits.  "W . . . friends?" Larry cuts in, "Iíd give him the clothes off my back."  "Aw," the woman sighs.  "Before we end the service, would anyone like to say a few kind words about Mr. Wilson?" the minister asks.  No one responds.  "Well, if no one has anything to say, that will conclude the service," the minister announces, and he moves to the casket and starts to close it.  "No!" Larry cries out, "Iíd like to say a few words about Ted."  "Fred," Balki corrects.  "Fred," Larry corrects.  The minister motions for Larry to come forward.  Balki starts to follow, but the woman grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him back.  "Oh, your muscles are so tense," she says, massaging Balkiís shoulders, "Uh, I could help you with that.  Does this tension come from the stress of a high-paying job?"  Larry is standing by the casket and begins.  "Fred was . . . a hard man to know.  Not many people knew Fred . . . like me.  I mean, not many people knew Fred like me knew Fred . . . Fred knew . . . well . . . who knew?"  The family and friends look confused by Larryís speech.

"All I know is Fred is gone and we will miss him."  Balki starts to cry again.  The woman turns him around to hug him and Balki finds his face pressed into breasts, to which he responds, "Oh!"  Larry moves closer to the casket and reaches over to pat where the left pocket is located, and then the right one.  "I think itís safe to say that many of you knew Fred longer than I did."  Larry moves around in front of the casket so he can reach behind and feel in the pockets yet block this from the mourners.  "But does that mean that you knew him better?" Larry reacts to finding the key by shouting, "Yes!  The key!"  He then covers by continuing, "The key to understanding Fred is in the pockets of his soul.  Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence in honor of Mr. Wilson."  The family and friends bow their heads and Larry runs to Balki, who is being massaged on the back by the woman.  "Balki, letís go!" Larry urges.  "Oh no, Cousin," Balki sighs, "I . . . I canít leave now.  This woman is giving new meaning to the phrase ĎAaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!í"  "We are leaving now!" Larry insists, grabbing Balki by the ear.  Balki cries, "Ah!" as Larry pulls him toward the door.  "Sorry, gotta run," Larry explains, "Weíre blocking the hearse."

Back at the apartment, Balki and Larry have given Father Killion his box of money.  "I have just enough time to get this to the bank and make that payment.  Youíve made many orphans very happy."  Father Killion turns to leave.  "Oh, Father Killion," Balki stops him and holds up a paper bag, "I . . . I baked some cookies for the orphans."  "Oh, thank you," Father Killion replies, taking the bag.  He again turns to leave.  "Father?" Larry says, "Uh . . . uh, arenít . . . arenít you forgetting something?  I . . . I believe you said we would be richly rewarded."  "Well, I was speaking in terms of spiritual reward," Father Killion explains and he leaves.  Balki closes the front door.  "Spirital reward?" Larry asks, "I robbed a dead man to get that money."  "Cousin, we saved an orphanage," Balki reminds him, "Donít you feel good?"  "Yeah, I guess," Larry sighs with disappointment.  There is a knock at the door and Balki reaches over to open it.  Mr. Gorpley is there, dressed not very convincingly as a woman.  "Iím here about the money," he says in a feminine voice, and smiles.  Larry reaches around Balki and slams the door shut.

Continue on to the next episode . . .