Hot Singles in My Area?

"Do you know any women who would take me in?" He asked, seeming much more pathetic than originally intended. Doreen was overcome with pity and guilt for this man she suddenly loved with all her being, and a twinge of jealousy at the prospect of him living with another woman. "Well, hold on," she interjected, trying to think of a solution as she spoke, "the avengers have safehouses! Well, not really safehouses, more just houses... you could stay in one of those places, is what I'm saying!" Mandrill's eyebrow quirked at the prospect of living in prime New York real estate on the Avengers' dime. He shifted towards her, looming as he asked, "and you have access to these? You could give me access and a roof over my head?" Doreen blushed, a combination of making promises she may not be able to keep and the feeling of her saliva sliding down her corset forcing her into shame as she suddenly became aware of how public this all has been. "It shouldn't be a problem I don't think, I just... I really don't think you're supposed to be in there, so I can't really tell people you're there, so other people might come in..." her eyes darted from side to side as she attempted to explain her predicament in a way that didn't make her seem uncool in front of the naked ape. "Oh don't worry, I promise you, nobody will notice my presence in the least," the Mandrill grinned, lying through his teeth, "I would never do anything to endanger or lessen your status, you know that." Doreen giggled, suddenly unaware of everything but the love of her master.

In a small apartment nestled deep in Astoria, Queens; leased in the name of Tony Stark, the Mandrill was clumsily eating a box of crackers. Doreen had gotten him situated, noting down the phone number of the landline installed in the unit and providing him with a small pile of groceries after seeing that the love of her life had the appetite of a 12 year old boy. Such is the nature of the Mandrill's power, that she found this glimpse of immaturity charming and earnest. Roughly 3 days have passed since, and the Mandrill has lived a life of leisure with a completely unearned sense of confidence. After yet another remark said to nobody and a meal made entirely of prepackaged and pre-made food, it began to occur to the Mandrill that he was not suited for living alone. Normally, a prison chef or one of the girls in his harem takes care of such trivial matters.

The next day, the Mandrill was woken up at 2 pm by the sound of the door unlocking. He jolted awake, collapsed in a heap on the couch, covered in crumbs and blankets and empty containers. He toppled over the back of the sofa, scampering into a nearby closet in a vain attempt to hide. The clicking of the tumblers in the door stopped for a moment, hesitating due to the clatter of sounds in the apartment. Finally, the door swung open, leaving the intended resident to see the chaos left by leaving an unattended monkey in an apartment.