Rollo was feeding his roaches when I approached.

"Aren't they beautiful?" he gushed.

Rollo, I should explain, is my neighbor, and I have never credited him with what you might call a first class intellect. But this seemed a bit much, even for him.

"Hi, Rollo," I greeted him. "Um, why are you feeding those roaches? Mine seem to get on all too well on their own. In fact, I spend a good deal of time trying to stop them from eating my food."

"Ah," smiled Rollo knowingly, "but these are the good roaches."

"Good roaches," I parroted idiotically.

"Exactly!" said Rollo. "The bad ones flout my will and disrespect me."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, already several fathoms out of my depth.

"Thanks," said Rollo, "but you needn't worry. These little guys take care of the bad ones for me."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again. "I mean, excuse me. I'm not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say the roaches disrespect you?"

"And flout my will," said Rollo. "But only the bad ones."

"By 'disrespect,' you mean they run all over your house?" I suggested.

"Insult me," Rollo corrected. "Call me names. Say sarcastic things about me."

"I didn't think roaches could do that," I said as diplomatically as possible. "But if they could, how would you know?"

"Oh, I know," said Rollo mysteriously. "They can't hide anything from me."

"Um, ok," I replied, not wanting to contradict him, in case he turned out to be dangerous. "But let's say they are dissing you. Why would you care? They're just roaches. Anyway, 'sticks and stones,' you know."

"Oh, yes, I've heard that. A saying for children. And a lot of children take comfort from that saying. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no self esteem," explained Rollo. "The slings and arrows of outrageous roaches wound me deeply."

"I can recommend some good roach spray," I offered. "Or roach pills. Boric acid, you know. Takes 'em out pretty good."

"No," replied Rollo with finality. "I couldn't do that. I have to rely on my good roaches to kill the bad ones for me because I'm powerless to defend myself."

"The ... good roaches kill the ... bad roaches," I repeated.

"Yes, that's what I just told you," said Rollo. "And I reward them for their loyalty."

I excused myself and hurried off. It's a good thing the roaches don't know what Rollo thinks. Even a roach is too smart to serve a pathetic lunatic like that.