Lucy Lovebug clung on for dear life to the windshield of the minivan. Larry Lovebug flailed in the wind, doing “the wave” with his arms. Lucy sighed and bore down harder into the windshield. She knew if she let go her and Larry would go spiraling to their deaths. She had been stuck to this guy for too long to give up now.
They were catching a ride to their therapist’s office so they could discuss their relationship problems. Upon arrival, the therapist locust gestured them to a tiny leaf shaped like a couch and asked them to please sit. Lucy yanked Larry forward to the leaf.
“So, I understand you’re here because you’re two lovebugs who haven’t figured out how to love,” the therapist said, sitting back on his hind legs.
“It’s only because Larry doesn’t pull his own weight in the relationship,” Lucy explained. “I am always the one holding on when we take rides on cars, or pulling us out of the way before we get stepped on. Larry expects me to handle everything and he just hangs there.”
“I see. Larry, would you like to respond to that?” The locust asked. Larry remained hunched over on the leaf, silent.
“You see! He never talks to me anymore. Ever since he got me pregnant he’s just totally checked out of the relationship,” Lucy complained. She reached around and nudged Larry on his shoulder.
“I hear you, Lucy. Before we continue, I’d like to confirm that you’ve paid the fee of 300,000 seeds to my receptionist?” the locust asked.
“Yes, yes I’ve paid it. Anyways, I can’t get him to say anything anymore. It was the first time we mated too, you know that? The first time we mated the bastard got me pregnant and now he’s quiet all the time,” said Lucy. The locust frowned at the couple and pretended to scribble something in his notepad.
“All those other lovebugs just seem so in love and we’re miserable,” Lucy says. “After flying us around all day, all I want is a foot rub and Larry won’t even do that! I’m about to have 200 of his babies, and if he thinks I’m gonna name a single one ‘Larry’, he’s got another thing coming for him,” Lucy told the therapist.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid your husband is dead,” the locust said pointedly.
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been sayin’, he’s a dead beat!” Lucy said back.
“No, I mean he’s clinically dead. I’m sorry our public school health system failed you so badly. You know, after lovebugs mate, the male dies instantly.”
“WHAT?? No one ever told me this! Larry? Are you dead Larry? Larry!!” Lucy shook all around, trying to get a response from Larry. She flew them both in the air and thrashed violently, trying to get Larry to wake up.
Just then, Larry detached and floated limply to the ground, a corpse. Lucy had startled herself into giving birth to the 200 lovebug eggs. She looked at the babies fondly and then immediately died herself.
The therapist stared indifferently at the eggs. He knew in just a days time, these babies will have grown up, formed their own couples, and will be back in his office for their own therapy. Lovebugs are his best clients. They’re so clingy and insecure, couples flock to his office in droves wondering why the men have “checked out” of the relationship.
“Trisha,we had another lovebug session! Get these out of my office please, I’m going to lunch,” the grasshopper called to his receptionist. He stepped over the piles of eggs, and left to count his earnings. Lovebug season is by far the most lucrative time for insect therapists.