Fiction: Match Maker, Match Maker, Make Me a Match

“You cannot underestimate the value of a perfect match.” Eddie said, clouds curling round his feet. “Get that right and this job is easy.”

It was Malcolms first day. Not with the company, he’d been with Cloud Solutions for five years, but this was a promotion, the big leagues, high profile matchmaking. He was nervous and it was clear that Eddie was looking for perfection, which wasn’t really helping. He’d been on top of Cumulus MMA for half an hour now and it just didn’t feel like he’d expected

“What happens if the match is wrong?” Malcolm asked, peering over his clipboard.
“Well at the very least you are looking at months of work. We don’t just randomly throw people together, my team have developed many algorithms that make sure every match we make is a hit.”

Malcolm was not a man who liked an “Algorithm”, he much preferred the personal touch. Especially when it came to matters of the heart. Eddie seemed cold and unemotional about it all but maybe it was the secret to remaining effective. Eddie was in his mid-fifties, chubby round the middle like he enjoyed more than the odd beer of a evening. He’s face was weather worn, and his features very defined, even though his mouth was almost hidden in-amongst thick stubble. He wore blue jeans topped off by an old leather jacket over a chunky knit black jumper.

Eddie caught Malcolm looking him over.

“What?” He asked.
“It’s just,” Replied Malcolm, hugging his clipboard for protection “you don’t exactly look like a typical match maker.”
“The clients don’t see us, we make the match and track how it unfolds. I could come to work in my boxers for all they care. They want us to do what is needed to fill the contract that’s it.”
“Oh. That’s not how it comes across in the magazines”
“What kinda magazines have you been reading? Jesus, look here.”
Eddie reached into the cloud and pulled out two files , opened them and began to talk through the contents of each in turn. “Look, this geezer here will be a great match for this girl. Really get the job done.”

Malcolm thought this to be a trifle blunt.

“He’s got a nice car, so that gives us options.” Eric continued. “He’s a big lad..”
“Oh please, do we have to..”
“Tall, gutter mind. He’s 6’7”
“Oh.” Malcolm replied tail firmly between his legs. “Does she have a say in this? I mean she might not like burly guys”
“Like him?” Eddie looked puzzled.
“Yes, have a general rapport, to begin with anyway.”
“You are twisted,” Eddie said, playfully punching Malcolms shoulder. “I like that.”
Malcolm rubbed his shoulder. He was, by now totally confused. Here he was starting a matchmaker job on Valentines Day, of all days. With a boss who didn’t seem to know anything about relationships or love.
“I have to ask,” he said. “Who have you put together? Anyone famous?”
“Well there was that south african guy. Oscar something.. with a beautiful girl. He did a really good job, excellent match. No-one expected that.”
“But he killed her. You think that was a good match.”
“Yes of course.” Eddie replied surprised. “Thats our purpose here.”
“What? But you are a matchmaker.. cupid, arrows everything.”
“Cupid?!” Eddie laughed. “The only arrow people get with us is right between the eyes. You got your paperwork?”

Malcolm fumbled in his pockets and handed the papers HR had given him to Eddie.
Looking at them he said. “Aha, I see. You want the lovey dovey crap on Cumulus MMC! I am a real matchmaker, I decide who dies and the best way for them to do it, to meet their match. Game over.”

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Fiction: Match Maker, Match Maker, Make Me a Match

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