Once there was a bug named Henry. He was a lady bug. All his bug friends thought he was gay, but he was not gay. He was attracted to the smell of shampoo, and often found himself hanging around people with freshly washed hair. Henry had a friend named Bruce, who was a grasshopper. Bruce was often tempted to eat Henry, because Henry was so small and tasty looking, but he never did eat him. Bruce was not gay. Bruce and Henry would often sit on a leaf together and think about the moon, and wonder how it got so high. Bruce liked many things. Like lettuce. And flies. And Kafka. Bruce really liked Kafka. He always wanted Kafka to write a special parable just for him. Bruce imagined that the parable would be called "Life is pointless" and would be about Bruce eating Henry, for no reason whatsoever. This would exemplify the point that life is pointless. Bruce fantasized about this everyday, but Kafka never wrote such a parable, because Kafka was dead.
THE END
P.S. Grasshoppers are pointless.
