Most major cities across America were veritable garbage dumps, and New York City was no exception to this rule. So filthy was this city, that it was not at all uncommon to witness all sorts of vermin run rampant in the streets, from rats that were the size of dogs, and cockroaches that were the size of footballs… including one such cockroach that scurried its way down the sidewalk of 74th Street late one evening. Upon reaching a large apartment building located at 1049 Park Avenue, the cockroach managed to slip underneath the main entrance, and past the night doorman, who appeared to have fallen into slumber while on the job. The cockroach then scurried its way down the lobby into the elevator, and just as before, went virtually unnoticed by a pair of tenants who stepped on board. From there, the elevator made the ascent to the eleventh floor, whereupon disembarking, the cockroach scurried directly across the corridor, and into apartment number 1102; once inside the apartment, the insect scurried through the living room, into the hallway, and under the door that lead into one of the two bedrooms. The apartment itself may not have been anything particularly spectacular, but this particular bedroom was possibly the cleanest room in all of New York City… perhaps, in all of the United States of America… perhaps, in all of the world… even most hospital rooms were nowhere near as spotless, immaculate, and antiseptic as this room was, and that was because the man who resided in this bedroom, commercial photographer, Felix Unger, was a neurotic, obsessive, compulsive neat freak. Doubling that with the fact that he was also a former serviceman who once served in the army, he even slept in his bed completely rigid and at attention on his back, with his arms firmly planted on either side.
The large, brown, six-legged vermin managed to reach one of the wheels underneath the frame, and from there, climbed its way up onto the bed, as it quickly crawled alongside the man slumbering within, and eventually reached his head, whereupon it began to crawl onto his cheek, which created something of a light tickling sensation that he could feel even in his sleep state.
"Mmm… Gloria… getting a little frisky tonight, are we?" Felix mumbled in his sleep; no doubt he dreamt the same dream that he had dreamed almost every single night of his life for the past year: getting back together with his ex-wife, Gloria.
From there, the cockroach left his cheek behind, and attempted to burrow its way into Felix's ear canal; something that caused the neurotic to giggle in his sleep.
"Gloria… please… I'm supposed to keep my middle ear dry…" he mumbled while he, presumably, fantasized that his former wife was playfully licking at his ear.
As it all persisted, out of reflex, Felix finally reached for his ear, but what he felt in his fingers made him realize that it was not his wife's tongue that was the source of this tickling sensation, and in fact, it did not even feel as though the source was any part of the human body at all. He felt rather tiny appendages that wriggled and squirmed within his grasp, as it brought him to his senses and out of his slumber. Finally, he sat up straight, and with his free hand, removed the sleep mask from his eyes, so that he could observe just what it was that he possessed within his grasp… and the sight that met his eyes was enough to have him leap right out of his bed with a tremendously loud shriek. As he shook from head to toe like a leaf in absolute disgust and horror, the cockroach wasted no time in making the now-emptied bed its own, as it quickly scurried underneath the covers, which only caused Felix to squirm all the more violently, as though he was succumbing to a full-bodied drive heaves.
On November 13th, Felix Unger was asked to remove himself from his place of residence.
That request came from his wife.
Deep down, he knew she was right; but, he also knew that someday he would return to her.
With nowhere else to go, he appeared at the home of his friend, Oscar Madison.
Several years earlier, Madison's wife had thrown him out, requesting that he never return.
Can two divorced men share an apartment without driving each other crazy?