"Survival and two crumbs of pizza"

Monica scans the area for any sign of Frank. Nothing 
in sight. She scurries across the floor, sniffs the
warm blob of rice recently fallen from the sky, and 
begins to eat. Her appetite a voracious void.
Suddenly she raises her head as if sniffing the wind. 
The footsteps of something approaching. Monica tries 
desperately to drag the pasty pile with her, but it is 
too heavy and sticking to the floor. She stands firm 
ready to fight. Food has been scarce, and her appetite 
gives her courage.
"Hey, babe. What ya got there?" Frank asks.
"Nothing for you, loser. You abandoned me and the kids 
a long time ago." Monica replies.
She tries again to wrestle the rice toward her nest. 
Thirteen-hundred hungry offspring squirm impatiently.
"I went foraging for my family and this is my 
welcome?" Frank sniffs the rice ball. "Can I have a 
little taste?" 
"This is for the kids," Monica answers, "besides if 
you went foraging, where's all the food? Probably in 
your lazy, good-for-nothing stomach."
"Cut a roach some slack," Frank tries, "I went up to 
the stove."
"The STOVE?" Monica queries.
"Yes, the stove. There wasn't a crumb." Frank says.
"Why didn't you say so? I'm sorry darling. Here have a 
nibble. It's fresh from a plate." Monica offers.
"I told you the table was the place to score. Stuff 
dropping on the ground at every meal. Just be careful 
around those big feet. They'll grind you into the 
carpet if they catch you."
"Oh, Frank. Stop scaring me like that. You know how I 
get. Especially after what happened to poor dear 
mother." They simultaneously make the cross over their 
chests with a half-dozen arms.
"Look, lover. How's about you and me going back to the 
nest and letting me ride you like the chocolate 
pleasure pony you are?" Frank snickers.
"You really went to the stove for me?" Monica asks.
"Damn straight. Thought I spotted a festering chunk of 
Spam under the left burner and made my way to the 
counter."
"You're so very brave. I find that attractive in a 
mate." Monica bats her antennae. "Tell me everything 
that happened." 
"It was just awful. I nearly got squashed by a 
newspaper, splattered by a shoe....."
"Wait-a-minute, wait-a-minute. Slow down. Give me the 
details in bite-size please."
"O.K. I got to the top of the counter and I'm hiding behind the cookbooks..."
"The first place we made love?" Monica coos.
"That's right, but stop interrupting. So I'm in the 
crack between Betty Crocker and Time Life Barbecueing 
when I hear footsteps in the other room."
"Someone's coming?" Monica asks.
"Yeah, the young boy's coming to the kitchen for a 
drink of orange juice. 'Shit' I think to myself, the 
little kid will try to put me in his mouth like he did 
that snail last week."
"That was disgusting." Monica remarks.
"Agreed. Quite barbaric. I'll take a roach motel 
anyday."
"You're making my mouth water."
"Not a real roach motel, darling. I was talking about
the insect trap."
"Remember poor Aunt Linda? She was so young. Only 
thirty hatchings. Terrible waste of a young life."
"I remember her dying words." Frank says.
"Let's try not to be sarcastic, please?" Monica asks.
"Well, for Christ's sake. Have you already forgotten 
how she invited us in. You almost went until I grabbed 
your legs. The bitch was stuck to the floor for eight 
days until she died, and not one was stupid enough to 
join her no matter how she pleaded."
"You make it sound so horrible, Frank."
"It was horrible, and I don't want you to forget that."
"I'm sure I won't." Monica answers.
"Back to my story. (he coughs) I no sooner get to the 
stove and guess what?" 
"Dinner time?" Monica guesses.
"Right, the whole works. I'm under the burners 
scurrying to and fro and it's getting hot under there."
"What did you do, Frank?"
"There wasn't much I could do. All four burners were 
balls of flame. I could feel my wings beginning to 
scorch."
"Oh, Frank. Let me see." She brushes his wings with
her feet inspecting the delicate material.
"Naw, I'm alright." He turns his head sideways in a 
mock blush. "You'll never guess what I brought us?"
"I give up. What is it?" Monica skitters closer.
"A big juicy fleck of rotten hamburger." 
"Stop. You're teasing me."
"Honest. I'll show you where it is." Frank motions
toward the rear of the stove.
"What is it going to cost me?"
"The usual." Frank responds.
"Well.....all right. Go ahead." Monica scuttles around 
until her ass faces Frank. He mounts her and begins 
thrusting his giant cockroach cock.
"Wait a minute!" Monica tries to move away. "Why are
you so hungry if you have all that food?" But it is 
too late for her to get away. Frank is already nearing 
climax and his swollen roachhood will not be removed.