A Brief History of the Planet for Cockroaches
Once upon a time, when the surface was still crisp and not this slippery wetness it is now, the world belonged to us, cockroaches. Well, there were also lizards and a couple of other insignificant intelligent forms, like singing mosses or those who spoke through sneezes. But we were in charge.
Everything was calm. Well, how calm: squeaking, rustling, hissing, arguing, sometimes eating each other, sometimes getting married, then eating again. That is, the usual.
And then one day, as if someone dropped it from the pocket of the universe, it appeared – the truth machine. Small. Portable. It clinked pleasantly when it fell. You could hold it in your paw, pet it, press it to your chest, eat it (not recommended), and, most importantly, use it to detect lies.
Consent of the person being tested was required, yes. But... you know how it goes. First, they just ask you to agree. Then they get offended when you don't.
At first it was fun. Everyone was playing 'guess who lied about the egg temperature'. Then they started fighting. Then they started smashing dishes. Then they started smashing cities. Then they started launching nuclear salvos. Who launched the first one? Apparently the lizards. We cockroaches are too sensible for such nonsense.
When the storm died down and the ash settled, the planet became... well, boiled. There was almost no land left. Heat from above, acid rain, crazy jellyfish. We cockroaches looked at all this and said, 'Time to go down'. And so we went underwater. We built cities, grew antennae, and tamed algae.