GALAHAD SCHWARTZ AND THE COCKROACH ARMY
Then Slim twitched, because Grampa’s pipe shot past his ear and stuck to the wall. It was still smoking. Five hundred tiny legs held it up. It began to move forward at the head of the line of cockroaches. It looked like a locomotive towing a train of six-legged boxcars.
Suddenly a huge number of singing voices seemed to shake the room.
In the cracks behind the counter,
In the world below the light,
Lie towns where all go safely,
For the Roaches rule the night.
Now tell them, boys — Who are we?
WE ARE THE COCKROACH ARMY!