No I am not a cockroach, screamed the kid much to the chagrin of the nurses. They had found him under a bed in an abandoned building. He had a thick exoskeleton of dirt and pretty much ate everything that came his way. No one knew he could talk until the doctor playfully referred to him as little cockroach. The word just snapped him out of his verbal stupor and he made sure that no one called him a cockroach ever after.
All the rants and raves from a brain that has endured decades of anthropological abuse.
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