And so the exciting adventure of your intrepid cockroach farming begins! Deciding to think globally, but act locally, you march down to your local pet shop and demand a garbage bag full of Earth Angels. As the store clerk frantically runs to the back room to grab a baseball bat, you realize the less enlightened among the bipedal virus herd might need to hear your request in the vernacular. "I want your cockroaches!" The look of sheer fear on the young clerk's face tips you off that perhaps he misheard you, focusing on only the first syllable of the noun in your bellowed sentence. Obviously this transaction is becoming belaboured in a way unfitting for a young philanthropic entrepreneur such as yourself. Exacerbated that instead of moving on with your Earth changing ideas, you now, already, one paragraph in, have another dastardly decision to make. You harrumph your voice and fold your arms aggressively towards the author of your fate as if to say, "Really buddy? How fucking lazy are you?"