John's face clouds a little, and he looks off to one side for a moment. "Yeah. Me neither." His world wasn't a ruin of thermonuclear fire, but it was its own special kind of Wasteland. And one he ultimately hadn't survived either.

The thing about cockroaches the size of the Dog though, gets a raised eyebrow. "Domesticating them never took off, huh?" He gives a small, somewhat lopsided smile. "Wasn't born in the US. Come from a place called Belarus, in Europe. Few decades back, there was an explosion at a reactor, cross the border south of us. It got contained, but a lot of radiation leaked out. Almost thirty years ago, still dealing with the aftermath. Entire stretch of countryside, gonna be abandoned for centuries." And that was just one explosion.

"So gotta figure people in your world must be pretty goddamn tough to still be around after all that."