The Odd Couple

[Donalddeutsch]

Closed for Maid of Marvels and myself

I am Malcolm Unger, son of Felix Unger and total neat freak like my father. He had taught me well while I grew up, and now I have this nice apartment on the upper east side of Manhatten. I work as a Stock Broker, and am best friends with my fathers best friends child Frankie Madison. We have been friends since we were kids, and grew up together. I had just heard from Frankie that they had just left their spouse because of a mutual agreement, and they needed a place to stay. Now I told them that they could stay with me of course, they were my best mate, and well I didn't think that they were like their father, but boy was I wrong. I opened the door when the knock came and smiled. "Frankie, how's it going?"

Malcolm Unger
6'4"
200 Pounds of muscle
44
Well toned for his age, looks 20 years younger really from staying fit
Black Salt and Pepper Hair
Green Eyes

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Frankie

Surrounded by a veritable dumpster's worth of plastic Piggly Wiggly bags full of what wouldn't fit in the two oversized suitcases on either side of her, Frankie pulled a five dollar bill out of her purse and offered it to the cabbie who had helped to transport her belongings upstairs. He appeared displeased. "Fine," she muttered, offering another fiver. The man still wasn't smiling -- or walking away. "More?" He nodded. "They were heavy." Frankie swore. When this addition didn't seem to placate the man either, she rummaged deeper and pulled out yet a third. He frowned. "Got any more in there, lady?"

They settled on eighteen fifty seven because it was all she had left after paying the fare curbside. "Thief!" she abjured. "If you had been a foreigner I'd still have a dollar to my name." The cabbie waved at her in Italian as he reentered the elevator and the doors closed behind him.

Blowing an unruly wisp of hair out of her face, Frankie knocked on Malcolm's apartment door. "I hate New York," she grumbled when he greeted her, pushing past and leaving the chaotic remains of what was left of her life in the hallway.

"Well, hello to you, too," he said, eyeing the parcels suspiciously. "I don't supppose you've been... shopping." It was more a statement than a question and Frankie chose to ignore it. Looking up and down the hall before grabbing a handful, Malcolm was more than a little relieved not to see a pet carrier or ten filled with clowders of cats.

When he turned around, Frankie was just exhaling a malodorous cloud of blue gray smoke. "I don't see any ashtrays," she commented with a shrug. "Mind if I grab a saucer or something?"

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "When did you start smoking Frankie?" He looked at his best friend from like forever and wondered when she changed to her father. He walked over to where he kept such things, and handed her one. "Here you go, there's a place for everything, and everything has it's place. Here, let me show you to your room Frankie." He grabbed a bag carefully, and carried it to the perfectly clean and immaculate room near his own. "Here you go, a room for you. Sorry that there is only one bath, but it's only two bedroom."

 

[Maid of Marvels]

"I really appreciate this, Malcolm," Frankie said sincerely as she tossed her baseball cap across the room and lay back on the bed, the ashtray he had handed her now perched precariously on her stomach.

She'd been married for just under six years and it hadn't taken even one to figure out that Gerry was as quick with his hands outside the ring as he was to drain a can of beer. Several cans of beer. Even so, Frankie had tried to stick it out. People could change couldn't they? Well, all except for Gerard Martucci.

A middleweight contender when they met during an interview she'd been doing for the Tribune, Gerry, at 5'10 with a reach of 75", weighed in at 160 and had an impressive record of 67-18 and 2 with 45 KO's. It was lust at first boink and they'd eloped a few weeks later. He was a golden boy, to be sure, with a great future in boxing. At least till his fourth DUI and a year-long gig with the State that gave her a perfect excuse to move on.

"I stuck it out way longer than I should have."

Malcolm nodded solemnly but Frankie grinned, sliding the ashtray onto the bedside table before bounding to her feet. "I have an interview on Wednesday with Sam Martin from The Post. I don't know if I've still got it in me, but I'd like to think I do."

She started to light up another and paused. "Any chance we could get some burgers someplace? I'm starving."

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm smiled at his best friend since childhood. Hell they had grown up together, shared their first kisses with each other. He didn't know whether or not she had felt the same thing that he did, but he was hoping. "Ah hell Frankie, if you have anything like your old man did, you have it running in your veins." He grinned at her, as he absentmidedly was dusting unseen dust from things.